Book I: to cross oceans for [BxB] (trans) - completed

The Calm - Danny (Part I)

TW: There are some mentions of sexual assault in this chapter. Proceed with caution. 

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Sneaking into Matt's old room felt stupid. But there I was, doing exactly that. 

The window frame groaned softly as I heaved myself over it, the carpet muffling any sound. The sun wasn't fully out yet, it's first rays just cresting over the horizon.

Another morning, another day. And against all odds, I was still breathing.

Kicking off my sneakers, I padded barefoot to the still made bed and sat on its edge. The sheets were cool and crisp underneath my palms.

It was two weeks to the day since I'd been discharged from the hospital and I had yet to spend a single night in Matt's old bed.

Sean's mother did her best to make it as welcoming as possible. One glance around the room showed 80's band posters and high school trophies. Matt had been the captain of the swim team in high school, and won more than his fair share of medals during what he himself jokingly referred to as his 'glory days'.

I felt like an intruder. A placeholder, keeping a bed warm until its real owner came back.

The first night in this room had been the worst. Sean and Mrs. Lawton hovered and fussed over me, to the point that I had to bite down my tongue to keep from yelling at them to leave me alone and just give me some room to breathe.

But their overly concerned words were nothing compared to the vacuum permeating every nook and cranny of Matt's old room that made itself known the moment Sean closed the door behind him.

I wanted to scream. To hit something. To rage. To hide.

There was nothing to rage against. I had my first panic attack that night, and instead of calling for help, of turning to the people that had done nothing but help me, I ran. To the one place I never - not even in my wildest dreams - thought I would ever consider safer than Sean's home.

My house. My old room.

The ghosts and demons that haunted those halls and played tricks in the shadows were familiar. Those old creatures I knew by name. I chose them over the new ones.

I sighed and rested my elbows on my knees, refusing to wince as the movement pulled at the scabs on my back.

I stared down at the brown and blue carpet as the cold air drifting in from the window cooled the room. And I waited.

The clock on the nightstand showed it was almost time for school. Sean would wake up at any moment, and come knocking to call me for breakfast.

So, I let the stillness of the room settle around me. And I waited.

It was the same thing every morning; I snuck out every night since leaving the hospital, and snuck back in just before dawn.

If Sean came to check on me during the night, he'd never said anything about finding his brother's old room empty. Then again, we didn't say much to each other these days.

It was my fault. I couldn't find the right words to explain, to say that I'd been weak. That I should've tried... more. That I should've fought harder.

My body shivered, protesting the drop in temperature but I ignored it. I ignored most things about it these days.

A knock on the door startled me. It was followed by Sean's soft voice.

"Danny? Are you up?"

"Yes." My own voice was rough from disuse. I cleared my throat as the door creaked open slowly.

"Morning," Sean's tone was gentle and tentative, almost as if he was afraid to shatter the frigid air surrounding us into millions of tiny pieces.

I nodded, not lifting my head. He stood in the doorway for a few seconds before shifting uncertainly from foot to foot. I knew exactly what he was going to say. Because every morning was the same thing. Always the same concern. Always the same words. 

Are you hungry? "Are you hungry?"

Mom says breakfast will be ready soon. "Mom says breakfast will be ready soon."

A beat of silence. Then... the question.

Do you need anything? "Do you need anything?"

I didn't answer any of them. Not that he expected me too.

It was familiar, this quiet space enveloping us. More than any of the words we'd ever shared over the years. It was where we both retreated to whenever we found ourselves in each other's company.

What was there to say? What could he say that he hadn't already and what words could ever come close to describing the maelstrom of emotions churning my brain to mush?

"Are you ready for today?" he asked so quietly that I almost didn't hear him.

The new question made me look up. Green, concerned eyes stared back at me intensely. So much emotion swimed in them that it made my stomach clench uncomfortably. I looked away. 

"If you're not, you don't have to go. It's okay." He took a step into the room and I tensed. He stopped just inside the doorway.

I wanted to touch him. More than almost anything I wanted to hold him. To feel his skin underneath my palms instead of the cold sheets.

How could I? How could I ever touch him with the same hands scrapped almost raw by asphalt?

"I'm fine." I lied, picking at one of the scabs on my right palm and pulling it back until a bead of blood welled up in its place.

Warm softness touched my hand I flinched back from it, scrambbling onto the bed.

"I'm sorry. I-I... sorry. Just, don't hurt yourself. Please." Sean stood at the foot of the bed, his hands held up in a placating gesture.

I swallowed the dryness and bile clawing up my throat and closed my eyes.

I'm here, in Matt's room. Sean touched me. It was Sean. My Sean, no one else. It wasn't them. Sean is safe.

Sean is safe.

I opened my eyes and saw that he'd retreated back to the doorway. Shame and disgust washed over me at my reaction.

Having to tell myself again and again that Sean was safe made me feel like a fraud.

"When you're ready, come downstairs. Okay?" he smiled, but it was a brittle and broken thing that didn't reach his eyes.

He closed the door and left, not even waiting for me to acknowledge his statement with a silent nod.

He deserved more. So, so much more. More than I could give him and certainly more than I was.

I grabbed the sheets in my hands, the spot I'd picked the scab sending a twinge up my hand that I didn't pay attention to.

I'm here, in Matt's room. I'm here, and they're not.

Faint echoes of laughter teased my ears and I shook my head, forcing myself to stand from the bed. I crossed the room and stood in front of the window, gaze scanning and taking in the still empty street, drinking in the sunlight.

I'm here.

I'm here.

I. Am. Here.

Maybe if I repeated the words over and over, I'd eventually believe them.

***

The drive to school was filled with nervous chatter as Mrs. Lawton did her best to fill their old green '95 Ford Fiesta with as many words as she could. I thought maybe she was trying to break some kind of record.

Sean answered whenever she asked a question or there was a pause in the incessant flow of words.

I stayed silent, staring out the window and grasping onto what Mrs. Lawton said so that the blood pounding in my ears wouldn't deafen me.

It was my first day back since being discharged. I didn't really know what to expect.

Did everyone know? Where they all talking behind my back? Were they snickering and whispering to themselves about the weak, little gay boy?