WARNING: shit gets real in this chapter. Shit will get sad and uncomfortable. Specific warning tags; drug use, abuse, past trauma, mentions of suicide, retelling of childhood abuse, violence and mentions of death. If you can't handle this please do not read this chapter.
If you can, please enjoy!
MATTHEW'S POV
Gilbert left a while later after we had sorted out his problems and we parted ways with a hug.
Arthur did not return until very late. I glanced at the clock as I heard the door click open. 3:24 am.
I was sitting up with my phone in my hands, talking to Lars.
"Welcome back," I greeted the Brit. I received no response. The lamp was on so I could see the red of his eyes, the lost deadness that accompanied hours of pained crying.
"Arthur?" I called. He stopped his movements and collapsed to the floor in a fit of almost silent sobs. I dropped my phone onto my duvet and padded quietly to his side. I reached down to him, my fingers just barely brushing his shoulder.
He jerked violently, a shriek of "Don't touch me," torn from his throat. His eyes were wide in terror and his cheeks were wet.
"Arthur it's okay, it's just me. It's just Matthew. Are you okay what's wrong?"
I moved to take another step towards him but he scrambled onto his bed, away from me, "No! So stay away. Don't touch me."
I stepped back and held up my hands for him to watch, "Okay, I promise I won't touch you."
Arthur seemed taken aback by this. "What?"
"I said I won't touch you if you don't want me to. Why don't you sit down and tell me what's going on."
Arthur sat on the edge of the bed slowly. "I can't tell you," He whispered.
"Sure you can. I won't tell anyone."
"That's not the problem. It's just that... I don't want you to hate me."
"Arthur. I won't hate you. I swear."
He finally resigned and gave a shaky sigh. "Okay but... it's a really long story."
"May I sit with you?"
Arthur nodded and I sat next to him, ever so gently for fear of scaring him further.
He sucked in a deep breath and began,
"When I was a kid I lived with my mother. I have one picture of her that I burnt a long time ago. She was a drug addict. Heroin. She-uh- she used to bring a lot of guys home. Most of them beat her and she drank to forget. She drank so much that she forgot to protect us - my brother and I.
My brother was usually in school so he couldn't protect me either and I was alone. I was alone with each and every one of those men, every day for five years. And I never said a word.
One day she brought home Clark," he winced at the name, "He tried to kill us. The entire family. He tied up my brother and made him watch. That sick bastard made Alistair watch. I cant- I can't forget the look on his face. He looked so scared. He kept crying out my name, he sounded like he was in so much pain. I cried for the first time since it had started that day.
When he was done he left. He left for Calgary after beating my mother with a baseball bat. And she followed him."
Arthur paused to take a shaky breath and I smiled sadly at him. "May I touch you?" I asked.
He nodded and I placed a hand on his back and began to rub slow circles and implored him to continue.
"She left us. I was five. My brother was 8. We were put into foster care. For two years I stayed in Vernon. But it never stopped. I'd have visits with my biological dad, who wasn't Alistairs dad by the way, and he gave me the same treatment I'd grown used to over the years. I thought nothing of it. It was normal for me.
I was adopted at the age of six, and continued to see my father till the age of nine, when I finally told someone what was happening thanks to a sex education class where I had learned that what he was doing was not normal.
He was arrested, and I was free.
But I lived with crippling depression and anxiety for years. I hurt myself on purpose for a long time. And one day," Arthur paused and I scooched closers to him and continued to soothe him with gentle touches.
"He showed up again. Clyde-"
"Clyde?"
"Sorry, Clark."
"Ah. Sorry, go on."
"Right, well. Clark showed up on the street one day. He was with my mother but I didn't really care. He recognized me and grabbed me by the wrist and forced me into an alley. I felt his hands all over and I panicked. I don't remember what happened but when his hand slipped into my pants everything went black and when I came to I was covered in blood and Clark was dead a few feet from me.
There was blood everywhere and when the police came I told them what happened. I shook so violently that I couldn't stand.
The police told me everything would be okay. But it's not Matthew!"
I jumped at my name coming out of him so suddenly.
"Nothing is okay! I killed a person! I actually took the life of another living thing. I murdered him!" He said loudly.
"What? No, Arthur, it was self defence."
"That's shouldn't matter!" He shouted, "Am living thing is a living thing and taking that away for any reason is wrong."
"Well then what should you have done?" I regretted this question almost immediately. I could tell by Arthur's expression what the answer would be.
"I should have let him fuck me."
AN aaaand scene! Alright, how's that for drama? I wanted Arthur to have his own stuff going on.and as a little quirk I had him be more bothered by the fact that he killed someone than anything else.
I really hope you guys liked this, I know it took a sudden turn but I promise you won't be disappointed! Love you all.
