The World Turned Upside Down ||.lams.||

2

He's coming.  He's coming.  He's coming.  He's coming.  He's coming.  He's coming.

He's coming was the only though John could think.  He wasn't aware of his squirming or his screaming.  He wasn't aware if he was awake or asleep.  All he heard were those words.  All he felt are those words.  All he was were those words.

He's coming.

And the words were excitement and terror and a warmth all in one.  The words were planted there long ago by him. 

He's coming.

Thomas Jefferson's coming home.  John was sure about that.  Sir was coming home.  Master was coming home.  John wouldn't be alone anymore.

He's coming.

But John felt he would be alone as well.  Thomas Jefferson's coming.  He's coming.  John would spend hours rubbing himself raw in the shower again.  John would spend hours crying on a cold floor with nothing covering his body.

H E ' S   C O M I N G.

Alexander watched his companion cry and squirm and scream with a sick curiosity.  His brain was latching onto the squirms, his brain forming them into his own story.  The part of his brain that caused him to be here was taking someone's pain and fear and twisting it into something he could enjoy.

Sitting down, he watched the boy he had been told was called John, wondering if he was in pain, wondering if he could induce pain, what was causing him to act like that.  He watched him simply,  not nervous about having another attack.  Those were few and far between.

John squirmed and cried and screamed for hours before he woke up, and he was even more exhausted than before.  He sat up, blushing hard when he felt something odd in his pants.  Shame and fear rose in him when he realised what he had done in his sleep.  Immediately he looked around for Thomas, pausing when he didn't see his past abuser, but the new person in the 'padded room.'

"Who are you?"  He managed, wincing at the sound of his own voice.  His own ragged, raw voice.

The newcomer looked at him, then blinked as if coming out of being lost deep in thought.  "I'm Alexander.  I'm new here.  We met.. whenever we met."  He smiled at John, dipping his head politely.

Something that Alexander noticed was that John's outfit was extremely standoffish.  You were allowed to choose your own clothes, with exceptions of course.  Bold, bright colors were prohibited.  Buttons were prohibited, and strings were prohibited.  John had on a plain pastel green shirt that hung past his thighs and his hands, and a plain pair of sweatpants.

John, on the other hand, noticed how much Alexander's outfit was almost pushing rules.  A black and red striped tee-shirt with jeans.  The tee-shirt hugged the man's body tightly, but not too tightly.  And the jeans, or at least the jean patterned pants hung loosely off Alex's hips and ended almost touching the floor.

John thought about how much Thomas would have loved that outfit.  Without thinking, he walked up to Alexander and kneeled down by his side, looking at the shirt with amazement.  "You wear clothes like Thomas."  He whispered.

Alex frowned, not understanding.  "Was Thomas your boyfriend?"

John froze, then shrugged.