Speak Up | Lams DISCONTINUED

six

⚠ TW: Abuse ⚠

"And then he just ran out." Alex said, recapping the afternoon to Eliza.
"That's weird..." She paused, thinking. "It kinda seems like he's in an abusive relationship."
"Ya think?" Alex asked, annoyed.
"Calm down. It's not my fault you're in a shit mood."
Alex sighed, resting his head in his hands, elbows perched on his knees as he leaned forward on Eliza's couch. "Sorry."
She nodded. "Why exactly are you in a shit mood?"
Alex sighed again. "I just... A sweet guy like John shouldn't be in that kind of relationship... No one should."
"That still doesn't really explain it..."
"I... I want to, y'know, be like the hero in Disney movies and rescue him from that Francis guy, but I can't."
They were both quiet.

"What can I do?" Alex asked, barely above a whisper.
"Be a supportive friend and help him through this. Maybe you can't be the hero, but maybe you can help him realize that what his boyfriend is doing isn't okay." Eliza answered softly, wrapping her arm around Alex's shoulders. He leaned into her, resting his head on her shoulder as he thought about what she said.
"But what if he... Y'know, can't see how it's bad. People in those relationships don't see how it's wrong. I'm scared I won't be able to help him."
"Alex... I hate to say it, but you hardly know him. Why do you care so much?"
Alex shrugged. "I just do."
Eliza nodded and was quiet, as was Alex. The two sat in comfortable silence, each worrying about a friend.

Eliza worried Alex didn't know what he was getting himself into and that he would just end up getting hurt in the end.
Alex worried about John and his relationship and that he wouldn't be able to help him.

Both stayed quiet as their thoughts consumed them.

~~~

John

As he reached the dirty apartment building, John began to panic. He was terrified of what laid beyond the beaten up wood door that stood between him and his angry boyfriend.
John could hear the TV through the door but tried to ignore it as he unlocked the it. He quietly closed the door behind him and slowly took off his shoes, trying to remain unnoticed.
This worked until he stepped on the creaky floorboard he always forgot was there. It only seemed to make noise when he wanted to be quiet.
John silently cursed himself and waited for Francis to yell at him.

Weirdly, this never came. John straightened his back, no longer prepared to take a hit and walked cautiously into the living room where he saw Francis passed out on the couch.
John prayed he wouldn't wake up and made his way to their shared bedroom, locking the door behind him even though he knew he would get in trouble for it.
He sat on the end of the bed, thinking about the time he'd spent with Alex earlier that day. It was the most fun he'd had in so long; he couldn't remember the last time he laughed that hard.
He smiled to himself as he pulled out his phone, setting it beside him, waiting for Alex to text.
Before he could even glance at the screen he knew had lit up, he heard the springs of the couch creak, meaning Francis was awake and would be looking for John any second.
Quickly, John jumped up and unlocked the door, cleared his lockscreen after setting it on the nightstand and dove into the bed, trying to make it look like he was asleep.

Just like everyday, John could hear footsteps walking towards the bedroom. It was basically routine at this point.
He held his breath, waiting for the door to fling open and the screaming match to begin.
He clutched the pillow tighter as the door swung open, hitting the wall behind it just as it had many times before. He was surprised there wasn't a hole in the wall yet.

"Don't pretend to be asleep, I know you're not." Francis said, sounding utterly disgusted with John.
He sat up and signed sorry.
"You know I don't understand that bullshit. Use your words."
John was surprised by how calm Francis was being. Usually he was yelling and hitting him by this point.
He nodded before opening his mouth and quietly saying, "S... Sorry."
"Speak up, you sound like a fucking mouse."
He closed his eyes, trying to blink away tears. "S-s-sorry." He said a little louder.
"Better." He said, turning to leave, but stopping in the doorway. "You should make some supper. I'm starving."
"C-c..." John paused, taking a deep breath. "Can you d-do it tonight?"
Francis was quiet for a moment. "Why the fuck would I do that when I've got you?"
John winced as he spoke. "S-sorry, I'll be r... Right out."
He nodded and left the room.

John took a deep, shaky breath. He hardly ever spoke so when he did, it was usually quiet and broken up because he was so out of practice.
He'd only started speaking again, after eleven years, when he started dating Francis which was four months ago. He was still rusty and tried to use ASL whenever he could, even though he knew his boyfriend hated it.
He forced himself off the bed and sulked to the kitchen. He had no clue what to make, so he just cracked open a can of beans and threw them into a pot.
John heard footsteps behind him and flinched when he felt Francis rest his hand on his shoulder. He looked over John and into the pot.
When he took his hand back, John braced himself, ready to take a hit.
"Did I say I wanted beans?" He asked calmly.
John shook his head, still not facing him and ready to take a hit.
"Then why the fuck would you make them?"
John started to apologize, but was slapped in the back of the head before he could say anything.
"S-s-s-"
"God, that's so annoying! Why do you stutter so much? You're such a fuck up!" Francis yelled, hitting him again and kicking the back of his knees, making John fall forward. Luckily, he caught himself before he hit his head on the stove.
Francis continued to wail on John who just sat there and took it. In his mind, he deserved this.

By the end of it, John was sitting in the corner of the kitchen, softly crying. He had new bruises, a bloody nose, black eye, and busted lip.
Francis looked down at him in disgust before spitting on him and walking away.