Catch Me (Synacky)

Chapter Twelve: Zacky

I was jerked awake in the morning by someone yanking on the collar of my shirt. “There you are, you little shit.” There was an aid, who held onto my shirt tightly. His voice wasn’t angry, but it made me feel bad inside, “This is where you’ve been all this time, eh?”

I screamed, struggling and kicking and trying to pull away from him. I screamed and screamed, and he laughed, and I reeled back with my fist and punched him in the nose as hard as I could.

I heard a sickening crunch and he backed up, letting go of my shirt, hand pressed over his face, “Fucker!” he shouted, “I’ll fucking kill you I-“

I bolted while I could, dashing past him and down the hall, legs churning, heart racing. I skidded around a corner, colliding head on with an aid that was running to where we were. He grabbed my arm, quickly, and I yanked and pulled, screaming and screaming.

“Hey, shh, calm down. What’s wrong?”

Then, the man I had hit came careening around the corner, and at the sight of him, the aid’s eyes widened.

Ten minutes later, I had been shoved into a tiny room. The door locked behind me with a ‘click.’

I did not move. I lay, crumpled on the floor, pulse crashing in my ears. My heart threatened to leap out of my chest.

I counted primes. I counted higher than I had ever gotten before. Whenever I wasn’t sure whether or not a number was prime, I did the math in my head to figure it out. I rocked and groaned, and counted.

3,918,353, 3,918,359, 3,918,377.

I was interrupted by a tray being slid through a mail-slot device on the bottom of the door.

Like hell.

I flushed the food down the toilet and slid the tray back from where it came. I missed my pet, I missed Dad, I missed Brian, I even missed the room I had grown accustomed to staying in.

My cheeks were wet. I had been crying? No, I still was crying. Tears were falling down my cheeks. I sobbed and shoved my hand in my mouth, biting down, trying to still myself. It didn’t work. I wailed and cried until every other breath was hitched, and I had no tears left to cry.

Crying was exhausting.

I didn’t even bother crawling up onto the tiny bed in the room. I just curled up where I was, and fell asleep.

~*~

There was not a clock in this room.

Upon that realization, I suddenly felt trapped. There wasn’t a window or a clock or anything, so I had no indication time was even passing. I could have been in here for two hours or two days, and I would not have been able to tell the difference.

Meals. I gauged time by meals. And from what was on the plate, I could tell if it was morning, noon, or evening. I did not eat it, though. I flushed it away. I was upset, and I never eat when I’m upset.

I did force myself to drink water, though. I read a book once about a man who died after only three days without being hydrated. I did not want to die.

On second thought, maybe I did.

I wasn’t sure how long I was going to be in here. There was nothing for me to do, no puzzles, no books, not even color to take up my time. It was like I was lost in space and time, separated from the world.

I could not sleep. There was nothing for me to do but sleep, and I couldn’t even manage that. I tossed and turned, and when I did sleep, it was restless. I had nightmares, and I’d wake up screaming, expecting Brian, expecting Dad, but I was always alone.

I was hungry, but still I refused the meals they brought. My body cried out for food, but I ignored it.

Then, at some point, the door opened. I was weak from my obstinacy, my stubbornness doing more to hinder than help me in this situation. The aid that came to let me out grabbed my arm, not harshly, but firmly, and pulled me to my feet. I used whatever energy I had left to shout, to fight against the contact, but it was halfhearted. This was the first person I had seen in a long time, I couldn’t be that angry.

I was given protein through an IV. It wasn’t pleasant, but I did start to feel better. I looked at a clock as we passed on the way to my room. The time was 7:02 PM. The date was January 23rd. I had been in that room for three days.

I still felt a little dizzy, and I went inside my room and lay down. My pet was sitting on the bedside table, and I snatched it up, nuzzling my face in the fabric of its coat. I had missed my pet so much.

Brian entered the room at 8:43 PM, to get ready for bed. “Zacky!” he grinned when he saw me, and I shrunk away from him. He said he was my friend, why hadn’t he helped me? I bet he had just laughed to Jimmy about me being gone. I bet he hadn’t even wondered where I was.

Maybe I really was just meat to him.

“Zacky, hell, I was so worried about you.” Brian stepped towards me, he had his arms out, but he didn’t touch me. “I-I tried to get Mr. Todd to let you out of that, I know you didn’t deserve that. You wouldn’t have hurt someone unless you had a reason to.”

His hand reached to touch me, and I flinched, taking rapid breaths.

He sighed, “Zee… I’m so sorry about your dad. You must be going through hell right now, and that isolation just adds to it, doesn’t it? I-I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but-but I want to help you feel better.”

I didn’t respond. He sighed, and went to put on his pajamas and brush his teeth.

Aids checked up on us at 9:30 to make sure we were in bed, and at 11:30 to make sure we were asleep. Then they mostly went to their own rooms to sleep, and one or two stayed in the halls to make sure nothing bad happened. At 11:38, Brian lifted the covers and looked at me, “Do you want to sleep with me?” he asked, voice barely audible in the still room.

I hesitated, then nodded, collecting my pet and sliding in between the sheets. Brian wrapped his arms around me, and I pressed myself close to him, inhaling his scent. I buried my face in his neck, and took a long, shaky breath.

Then I was trembling, and there was wet in between us, and Brian was petting my hair, his lips on my temple. “Shh, Zee, don’t cry. It’s okay, Zee, I’m here, I’m right here. I’m not going to let anything bad ever happen to you again, okay? I’m going to keep you safe. I’m sorry, Zee, about all of this. I’m so, so sorry.”

I reveled in his words, let them swirl inside of me, and my heart raced, in a good way. I looked up at him, and sniffled, and he smiled, his thumb wiping away the tears on my cheeks.

“I don’t have anyone left.” I whispered. “I’m all alone.”

“No, don’t you ever say that.” Brian stroked my cheek gently with his fingers, “As long as I’m alive, you have me.”

I didn’t respond outwardly, but inside my heart thudded with so many good feelings. I didn’t know how to deal with them, how to express them.

Then Brian whispered, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” I nodded.

And I suddenly learned how to express these feelings. His lips were on mine, and I had never kissed anyone before, but I enjoyed this, the feeling of warm, soft lips against mine, his hand cupping my cheek. I fell into a state of euphoria, and when he pulled away, I asked him to kiss me again.

He smiled, lips pressing to my mouth, then my forehead. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“I-I…” I closed my eyes, letting sensation flow through me. “I feel wonderful.” I told him. “I feel… amazing.”

Brian’s smile widened, and he returned his arms around me, kissing the top of my head. “Oh, Zee.” He murmured, “The feeling is mutual.”