Just The Beginning... (Solangelo)

Chapter 18

Third Person’s POV:

    Will spent the next couple days caring for the bedridden boy. Not that he minded, it gave him a reason to be near the human without coming off as some creep. What bothered Will was the fact that the boy was yet to say a word to him. He’d done his best to make him comfortable. He didn’t know what exactly he was doing wrong. But there wasn’t really anything he could do but wait. He suspected that it was because of something the rogues did to him, so he didn’t want to force anything.

  His job was mainly to feed the boy and make sure he took his medication on time. Even though he had obviously gained back enough of his motor skills to feed himself, the younger boy seemed to enjoy being fed.
   Baths, however, were a bit of a problem. The boy refused to let Will see him undressed, let alone bathe him. They made do somehow though. But Will was asked to leave the room once bathtime rolled around. He would wait for about a half hour then come back to check on him. And every time he came back, the boy was snuggled back under the covers.
 
He made sure the boy had the best of everything he could give. But the one thing he wanted to help with, that he would give anything to make better, he couldn't help with.

Every night, Will was woken up long before daylight, to the sound of screaming. Loud, painful, gut-wrenching screaming. The first time he'd heard it, he'd snapped awake  bolted out of the chair he'd fallen asleep in and rushed to the bed thinking someone was harming his angel. The boy was alone, plagued by nothing but his dreams. His nightmares. He was covered in sweat, his face lined with tears which trailed from the boy's still closed eyes. He was tossing and turning on the sheets, having already thrown the blanket that previously covered him to the ground.

   The sounds escaping his lips were blood curdling. Will grabbed his arms and tried to get the boy to wake up, but the moment his hands made contact with the boy's skin, he thrashed harder, trying to escape his grip. His screaming became louder, hurting Will's ears. He quickly stepped back from the boy, his movements reduced  slightly, but were still violent enough to bring tears to Will's eyes. He knew that it was a memory of what had been done to him and it hurt that he couldn't offer the slightest bit of comfort.

    He knelt by the bed, crying alongside his angel because he couldn't do anything. He felt useless. He didn't stop them from hurting him physically, and he couldn't stop them from hurting him mentally as well. He could only watch as his mate relived the things done to him. He stayed for every second of it, punishing himself as his heart clenched at every tremor that shook his mates body, every time he thrashed like he was fighting restraints, every scream that escaped him.

  And every night it was the same. Will had stopped watching after a week. He couldn't continue to watch his mate in agony knowing fully well there was nothing he could do. Every yell Will would let out trying to wake the younger made him flinch and curl up tighter, and even the lightest of touches seemed to amplify his pain. He took to staying outside the door, wanting to know the moment the nightmare stopped. It always ended without the boy waking, usually letting the boy sleep peacefully around dawn. The room itself was supposed to be soundproof, but it was like the sound was resonating inside his head, never letting him escape either. Every night, he stayed right outside the door, his hands over his ears in a futile attempt to block out the sound of his mate's pain. And every morning at dawn, when he could hear no more, he quietly returned into the room making sure his angel wasn't hurt, before collapsing on the adjacent chair in fatigue. The boy never seemed to remember the details of the night before once he was awake, which was quite fortunate for both of them. Will wasn't too sure he'd be able to stand seeing the haunted look that appeared on the boys face every time he thought his former captors, every morning.

  The next few weeks took a toll on the young prince and it showed. Even his charge was aware that something was wrong and sent a few worried glances at Will, who always replied with an "It's nothing, I'm fine."
  The boy obviously wasn't convinced but could do nothing more than worry. The bags under Will's eyes and the evident fatigue were a dead giveaway. His friends were worried, but you couldn't help a person who wouldn't admit that something was wrong.
It didn't help that the animal blood they had made Will choke down didn't seem to be doing its job. While it kept him alive, it did nothing more, and according to Will, it tasted horrible. His friends found it strange, as the Prince had never complained, and they had no complaints over the taste of animal blood either. And no matter how much of it he took, he seemed to remain in a constant state of tiredness.