something they can never take away ≠ lams

-John opens up-

Alex's POV

I wake up, still in the uncomfortable plastic chair beside John's bed. I glance up at the clock. It's 3am. Well, I'm not surprised I woke up at this time in this chair.

I look up at John. He's still sleeping. His hands are placed underneath his pillow, and the blanket is partially off, only covering his waist and his hair is an unruly mess, that sticks out of every direction.

Only after a couple of minutes later, I hear rustling and muffled groans coming from John. I look at him once more. He wakes up and stares at me with his wide eyes.

"A-Alex? Alexander? W-what are you doing here?"

"Shh, it's alright John. Just sleep"

"I'm sorry Alex, I really am. For the things I said"

"No John. I'm the one who should be apologizing. After all, I did get you in car incident"

"Alexander, the only way you could have gotten me in a car incident, is by being the driver that hit me. It was my fault, I shouldn't have ran away. And I'm sorry for that"

"Friends?" He asks me, smiling.

I smile back and nod.

"Friends" I say to him. Although I wish we were more than just friends.

I stand up and sit on his bed as we both pull each other into an embrace and stay like that for a while. Then we pull away and I sit back in my seat.

"Sit next to me, you dork" He chuckles, quietly.

"Fine" I simply respond and go and sit close to him.

"What do you want to talk about?" I ask him.

"Well I don't know. Do you have any ideas?"

"Could you tell me about your past? I've told you about mine" I suggest and see him tense up a little.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked"

"No no, it's alright" He says and takes a deep breath.

"I have two sisters and two brothers. Martha, who is 16 right now, Mary, 5, James, 10 and Henry who turned 13 a couple of days ago. My mother, sh-she died after Mary was born. It was so hard for us to cope. She was the ray of sunshine that always brightened up everyone's day. She loved drawing, like me and always encouraged me to pay more interest towards art. Once she died, my father had gotten very depressed. He was always a dick with his racist remarks and homophobic opinions. But it got worse and he started drinking. My siblings and I soon became his punching bags. I would always defend them, especially Mary. She was only just a baby at the time. I couldn't do anything. I was a stupid teenager at the time. I had no one to tell. I had no one, Alexander" He stops for a moment to let his tears trickle down.

"So we just kind of learned to cope with it. Coming back home from school, just to be slapped, punched or whipped. Whenever he got pissed off, he took it out on me. The teachers at my siblings' school didn't think much of the bruises and red marks on their skin. But after a couple of weeks, there were more of them. They got suspicious. My brothers and sisters had to get taken away. Into foster care. I was alone, again. I had to stay. I was forced to stay. My father, he would monitor my every move. No matter how many times I tried to run away, he'd always find me. He literally had to walk me to and from school. It was so hard. No one gave a flying fuck if I had a black eye one day and a massive graze on my face the next day. When I came out to him...He-he beat me up. So hard. I still have all of the scars. I only met Herc and Laf 6 months before I moved out. I told them a few brief memories of my life. About my mom and dad. But I never opened up to someone like this. Ever. And it feels good to do that because it's finally off of my chest. This is what I needed. A good listener like you, Alexander" He finishes up.

A couple of tears manage to glide down my face as I wrap my arms around him.

"John-"

"Thank you, Alex"

"I don't know what I'd do without you" He says, softly, still hugging me.

"Try to get some sleep. Okay?" I say to him and he nods. I smile to myself and see him fall into a deep slumber.