Angel [BoyXBoy]

Chapter 7: Alone

       

Chapter 7: Alone

Two weeks- it had been two weeks since the party. Two weeks of Cole pretending nothing had happened and laughing along with the jokes. Two weeks of Angel being exactly the same. Two weeks of Laura asking him if he was okay. Two weeks of dreams he didn't want. Two weeks of hell.

After feeling sick at lunch time and going home- Cole laid on the couch- listening to rain pour down. Violet laid on his stomach and slept. He stared at the ceiling reliving every second of that party. He wished he'd left earlier- not agreed to play- hadn't drunk so much. Spun harder- or softer. He went through thousands of different ways the situation could have gone. But it went the way it went.

Cole had held Angels jaw- they locked eyes. Cole had closed the small distance- tasting the alcohol on the punk's breath. They locked lips, Cole asked for entrance- Angel provided it. Cole cupped the back of Angels neck. Cole put his hand against the wall. Cole was out of breath when he pulled away. Cole chose to drown out the cheering as he slunk back to his seat. Cole chose to drink more. Cole chose to crash on the couch. Cole chose not to look for Angel the next morning.

Now he hadn't seen Angel in a few days- he was growing worried but when he was feeling sick he was unable to do anything. He wanted to send Angel a text- ask if he was okay. But he couldn't find the confidence. He laid his hand on his stomach- feeling the rise and fall of his abdomen. Recently he left like he was suffocating so this moment of deep breaths felt like heaven to him.

There was a rapid knock at the front door. Cole ignored it- probably just somebody trying to sell him magazines or Jesus. He didn't think he needed either. He turned over on his side and shoved one arm under his chin. The knocking continued- getting louder and faster until Cole huffed and swung his legs over the side of the couch and stood.

"Coming!" he yelled, and the knocking stopped. He didn't; look through the peephole. He should have. He wrapped his hand around the knob and angrily ripped the door open, he was ready to yell at whomever was standing outside. He didn't yell.

His eyes fell on a soaking wet Angel with the bruise on his neck newly disturbed and bleeding from a spot above his eyes brow. He was crying- it was hard to tell since it was pouring but his eyes were red and he whimpered.

"R-Rudy is in California" He shivered, "please"

"Come in" Cole rushed the boy in and ran up the stairs- grabbing a blanket towel and darting back to Angel. The punk stood in the entry way- shivering and trying to wrap his arms around himself. Cole draped the towel around the punk's shoulders and just watched as Angel brought a corner of the towel up to his lips and cried.

"Hey- take a hot shower okay? I'll...I'll get the first aid kit and some clothes- alright?" Cole found himself speaking softly- a hand touching the one covering Angels mouth. Angel nodded, and Cole helped him up the stairs and left him in the bathroom. Cole went into his room- grabbing warm PJ pants and a long-sleeved crew neck with school colors on it. He went to his mom and dad's room- stealing the first aid box out of their closet and walking back into his room- sitting on his bed and looking out the window.

This was a big mess- he always managed to make a mess. He could hear the lasting sobs from the punk. He felt himself tear up- how could someone tear a child like this. How could a mother, a father who chose a child- treat him so poorly? Did they fall out of love? Did they get him just trying to repair the damage? They should cherish him- a child they chose. Cole felt sick. His stomach turned and knotted, he was still just a kid- him and Angel shouldn't be dealing with this.

He knew it was going on- he'd told Angel to lean on him- yet when faced with this- with what he was asking for- he felt frozen. He was unable to swallow this situation. Now his mind was stuck with that image- the view of the poor boy out in the cold rain- so desperate he came to someone he didn't even trust to admit there was abuse.

How fucked up did it get for Angel to come here? Cole was drowning suddenly- suffocating with the thick depression hat settled over the house. He heard the water shut off and stood up- clutching the clothes he'd picked for Angel in his arms. Angel opened the bathroom door and walked into Coles room- the large towel wrapped around his hips. There were new burns on his chest- little circles- like someone had crushed the butt of a cig into his chest. Cole wanted to vomit.

There were areas of his chest and stomach that were turning purple and black- the cut on his eyebrow was no longer bleeding but was a deep gash. Cole swore he could see a sliver of Angel's skull. He silent pushed the clothes on Angel and darted to the bathroom- collapsing on his knees and vomiting violently in the toilet. He held the sides of his face in his hands. Why did he get himself wrapped in this? Why didn't he just leave it alone?

He should have listened to his father- he should have taken Vinny's advice. He should have turned away- left the punk be. He should have gone home the day eh fist saw the bruise. He should have never skipped practice. He should have stayed. He should have kept his routine.

Finally- when his stomach settled- he stood up- quickly brushed his teeth and washed his mouth. he took a deep breath and walked back into his room. Angel sat with just the PJ pants on on Coles bed. His lower lip quivered for a moment but other than that, he looked blankly out the window. Cole grabbed the first aid kit and sat in front of Angel.

"do you need to go to the hospital?" Cole asked- his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat.

"Please don't make me" Angel pleaded.

"I won't make you" Cole soothed, "This just looks...bad"

"It's fine" Angel reached for the shirt Cole gave him and Cole stopped his hand.

"it's not, let me help" Cole insisted, "I just...don't really know what to do"

"Do you have burn cream and Band-Aids?" Angel asked- retracting his hand from under Coles.

Cole rummaged through the red box until he found an unopened tube of burn cream and several little spot Band-Aids. He found Q-tips and squeezed some of the burn cream on the tip of it and dabbed small amounts on each of the 4 new burns on Angels right pectoral. Angel didn't flinch. How used to this pain was he? He pressed the Band-Aids on and his flattened hand hovered on Angels skin- he was still cold.

"Who did this?" Cole asked- his voice just above a whisper.

"My parents and their dealer" Angel responded, "they couldn't pay up for what they wanted- their dealer thought going after me would make them cough up whatever money they did have. It didn't – he didn't give them their drugs- they took it out on me"

"I'm sorry" Cole said- opening a chill pack and taping it to Angels forming rib bruise.

"Don't be- it's my fault" Angel looked down.

"You think this is your fault?" Cole looked up.

"You're right, I never told anyone. I've let this happen to me. Pitiful, isn't it?" Angel croaked, "I'm a useless son"

Cole's anger grew, Angel was so wrong, "No" Cole said, "you aren't"

"I can't even help myself" Angel mumbled.

"Stop Angel" Cole said- placing a Band-Aid over Angels brow, "go to sleep okay? I'll wake you up for dinner"

"You don't have to do this" Angel said.

"Yeah" Cole chuckled, "but I want to- you're interesting"