The Science of Starting Again//Book Five

Chapter 5~Darkness, Be My Friend

Author Note: Trigger warning, this is quite a descriptive violent chapter. To skip this, just don't read the italic writing.

Teddy's P.O.V

It was dark by the time I arrived back to Mycrofts. He wasn't home yet, obviously still at the office working after hours. I didn't really care too much though. Because he wasn't home it meant that he couldn't pester me about the two bottles of vodka I had brought. Without a sound I walked upstairs, not bothering to find a glass to pour my vodka into.

When I entered my bedroom I found Dmitri sound asleep on the dirty towel I had used this morning. Although I knew I should chuck it in the wash I didn't want to disturb the cat. Anyway, there were more pressing issues to attend. Kicking off my boots I uncapped one of the bottles before downing a quarter of the liquid. The burning in my throat was uncomfortable but frankly I didn't care. It distracted me from the thoughts in my head. Giving myself a moment to breathe I lay down on my bed, pulling out my phone to check through any messages I had gotten. There were four: One from Sherlock informing me that Mrs Hudson wanted me to pop by tomorrow so she could talk me into moving back into 221C (as if she had to ask), one from Mary saying it was nice to finally meet me (where did she get my number from?), another from Molly confirming that she was free for coffee tomorrow morning, and the last from an old friend in America. I replied to all of them, although I did have to pause for the last one. Little did he know he was a part of my issues even though he had no reason to be. It wasn't his fault I left before anything could happen between us.

With a groan I plugged my phone in to charge, hands shaking, causing the charger to scratch the side of my phone up like it always did these days. I grabbed my vodka, drinking until my throat felt like it was on fire. When I placed the bottle on my bedside draw I could feel the effects of all the alcohol I had consumed today kicking in. Soon the thoughts in my head faded into nothingness and everything felt light and heavy at the same time. With a small smile I closed my eyes, focusing on my tired heartbeat and the alcohol coarsing through my veins...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It always started with this: The calm. I stood in my childhood backyard, my old treehouse to my right, the lake a few metres ahead. Behind me was the mansion in which I had grown up in. I never moved, not during the calm. I just stood there in silence, waiting for the next part, making the most of this peacefulness.

Next came the storm. That's when everything collapses and I realize that the peacefulness I had felt beforehand was a lie. Behind me the mansion was burning and there were dogs and men with masks and guns chasing me. I ran forward, past the treehouse that was rotting away in a dead tree, and into the murky lake. The sound of dogs barking and gunshots filled the air, the sky becoming darker the deeper I went into the water. When I was waist-deep in the water the ground beneath me gave way and suddenly I was sucked underwater. Sounds became muffled as I sank further and further beneath the surface, lungs screaming for air.

Suddenly there was a sharp crack followed by a force punching through my left shoulder. Unable to do anything about the new bullet wound I had to let it bleed into the lake, changing it from murky blue to crimson red. Just when I thought that I was going to pass out from the lack of oxygen and blood loss I'm dragged upwards, up towards the burning sky, up towards an even worse Hell.

And they say Hell is beneath us.

When I surfaced I gasped for air, only for it to be forced out of my lungs by a powerful punch to the gut and a shove against a metal chair. My eyesight clearing up I found myself sitting in a dimly lit room, a tub of water in front of me and cattle prods on a table next to it, as well as other electrical torture devices. I was dripping from head to toe, my hands shaking as they were clamped down against the arms of my chair. A shadowy figure picked up a cattle prod, turning it on so that it sparked and sizzled menacingly. Instantly I started pushing backwards, heartbeat racing as fast as light, my wide eyes fixed on the prod. I could hear Sherly somewhere, his voice distorted, but whatever he was saying was cut off by a scream that churned my stomach and made me feel sick. Due to his scream I forgot about the cattle prod, but only a second later it came back into my mind just as the shadow shoves it forward against my torso, making me scream. The powerful shocks sent spasms through my body and I swear I could smell melting flesh. The pain caused me to black out suddenly and for a moment there was a break in the storm and I could breathe.