Even When I Made You Bleed

Not to Mention: Handcuffs

It was horrifying. Every time he woke up, it was like he was still down there in those mines. And every time, Chris was there for him, and he would cry and clutch Chris' chest and hair until he made the other boy bleed.

This was one of those nights -the ones where he only sleeps for a few hours, when he needs so many more- that it was particularly bad, and Chris slept on the floor, with Josh handcuffed to the bed. And while it was terrifying for Josh to wake up and lose control of himself, to become a completely different person from who he really was, for him to become a monster; it was equally as horrifying for Chris. When it happened, Chris had to sit in wait, and hope that it wouldn't be the night. The one that Josh would break the handcuffs he had to be bound in. He had to sit and watch as his best friend writhed uncomfortably, and screeched violently on their shared bed, until the worst had past, and he was quiet and stopped moving. That was when Chris had to wait for Josh to wake up independently and begin to cry, to watch him helplessly as he sat with his head in his hands and weeped for his sisters, weeped for his friends, and weeped for Chris. But never for himself. He couldn't cry for what had happened to him. He believed that it was his fault. That all of it was his fault.

All of this flashed through the young man's mind as the Wendigo took over and brought upon him the tremors and the screams.

~~~~--~~--~~~~

The heat of the night was sticking to Chris and was burning Josh. He could see it now, as he came back to his senses and realized that Chris looked miserable. Josh saw him huddled into the seemingly smallest corner of the room, shrouded in his black hoodie and sweatpants, shaking and visibly crying. Josh hated it. Hated himself. It infuriated him, to wake up and see Chris so upset and vulnerable because of something Josh had no control over. Not anymore.

Josh cleared his throat quietly and spoke out against the deafening silence.

"Hey, Chris...I'm awake. I'm up. I'm...me." His voice was hoarse, from what, he didn't know, but Josh assumed it was screaming. He saw Chris' head perk up a bit, his eyes red and puffy from crying, which was obvious even in the darkness of the room.

"Jo-Josh? Do you need anything? Water, or-or you know, anything else?" He could tell that Chris was still scared, and he understood why, but he had to at least act happy. For Chris' sake. So he just rolled his eyes, although Chris couldn't see and smiled.

"You know, Cochise...as much as I love the fact that you're into kinky shit like handcuffs, unless you're gonna do something to me while I've got'em on, I'd love to have them off." But his sadness broke though his statement, and he sounded more like he was on the verge of crying than laughing. He closed his eyes and mentally cursed to himself, as tears started to prickle at the corners of his eyes. Stupid fucking emotions.

"Josh?"

"Hmmm? What? Did you say something...? Ask me something...?" He opened his eyes and Chris was standing beside the bed, unlocking the handcuffs, and gently removing them from his wrists.

"Yeah, I did." Chris still looked sad, and sighed as he turned on the lamp placed upon the nightstand next to their bed; much to Josh's dismay.

Squinting, Josh pulled his arms down and rubbed his wrists, before wiping the tears from his eyes and snifling softly.

"Like, what?"

"What?" Chris looked down at him like he didn't know what he was talking about.

"Come on, Chris. You know what I meant. What did you ask me?" For a moment, he was hopeful that Chris had been worrying about him. But he realized that's all anyone ever did, and he wanted them to stop. He wasn't a baby and he didn't need to be coddled.