Your Innocence ( Brallon )

Chapter 11; Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner

    Brendon could feel him scraping and tearing at his flesh. He could feel him. And all he can do is scream and attempt to push the heavy man away from him. "Please don't!" He would yell as he felt his heavy hands on him.

"Brendon." A soothing voice called out and it sounded like it was miles away, so the voice called him out to the struggling, terror filled boy.

"Brendon, it's okay. I'm here, it's me, Dallon."

The boy's eyes fly open and he's having a hard time catching his breath because the dream had felt so surreal. He realized he was in Dallon's apartment and he remembered that he was safe. Tears glissade down Brendon's face and he buries his face in the taller man's cotton shirt. Dallon asks the boy what the night terror was about, and the boy replied shakily, almost incoherently, though the older man heard it clearly and he kind of wish he didn't.

"M-M-Mister H-Harrison was h-hurting m-me."

Dallon hums and holds the angsty adolescent a bit tighter, rocking him in his lap. He had wanted to hold the boy for the whole entire morning but it would only remind Brendon of the haunting memory, so he would make it his mission for today to get the adolescent's mind off of his abuser.

"Brendon?" He calls out in a hushed voice. The boy responds with a quiet hum.

"Would you like to go get new clothes today? We could also get some dessert after if you feel up to it." Dallon asks rubbing the boy's back as he talks. Brendon removes his head from the man's shirt and stares straight into the latter's eyes. He nods then speaks in a hushed tone.

"Since you are taking me, could I possibly make breakfast? I'm used to making breakfast for-" His breathing picks up as he thinks about him. Dallon takes note of this and places his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Of course you can make breakfast, but you're gonna have to let me help you out." Dallon states with a smile and Brendon couldn't help but smile because holy hell, Dallon had such a nice smile and the man who shall not be named due to Brendon's sanity never helped out with breakfast. He just sat at the table expecting a meal to be done in such a rushed duration. It would end up that the meal that Brendon prepared would be cold or a bit raw. And that wouldn't end to well for the adolescent sometimes, seeing as the last time Brendon made dinner ended in pain.

Brendon jumped up and ran to the kitchen, Dallon hot on his trail. He wanted to make Dallon a nice meal consisting of pancakes, eggs and bacon, he wanted to make the man that had so willingly offered to help him make breakfast a nice meal. The older man had been so compassionate towards him and he felt the need to make it up to him in the only way he knew how.

He went to the fridge and grabbed the eggs before Dallon could even reach the fridge. He then saw looked up above him hanging down from the kitchen island were pans, so he reached up to grab the bottom and wiggle it off of the hook but to his avail, he couldn't. Damn his height. The nice six foot tall man- and as of yesterday his friend- saw the smaller boy's struggle so he grabs the pan, taking it off the hook with ease. Brendon blushes and thanks him and grabs the pan from his hand and places it onto the stove. He turns it on and turns back to the kitchen island where Dallon is staring at him, a weary look on his face.

"What's wrong?" Brendon asks innocently not aware that he was wearing the clothes from yesterday. The clothes with Ryan's blood on it. Dallon looks down at the boy's sleeves and the owner of the sleeves looks down as well. He feels his stomach drop and he nods and looks back up to the slightly traumatized man.

"Do you have clothes that I can borrow?" Brendon asks hastily, wanting to dispose of the shirt as soon as he possibly could. The older man nods and clears his throat, trying his best to stay altogether.