Regiphobia

The Session

Goda was closed up in his study the next day, too busy answering wedding questions to see Juan or spend all his time with Gabe. At least he wasn't alone, the bustling of people in and out may have been exhausting, but it kept the darkness and the hunger and the fear away.

Question after question was thrown at him, and most of the time he was just able to answer with whatever he knew would make Gabe the happiest. The day was normal, if a bit chaotic, until Gabe walked in.

"Hey," Goda said softly, smiling up at his fiancé.

However, the look on his face terrified him as he said, "Everyone out. I need to have a private word with Goda."

The smaller male watched as people walked out, the last one closing the door behind them. "U-Um... G-Gabe, what's-"

The other's voice was cold, completely devoid of any emotion other than the anger that threatened to bubble over.

"Against the wall. Now."

Goda knew what was happening now. He always knew when Gabe was like this. He knew what was going to happen. He didn't want to fight anymore. He walked to the wall, pressing his back against it as Gabe walked closer.

"You've become a good liar, you know," he said quietly, "but I can still see right through you."

"Wh-What do you mean?" Goda asked, voice a terrified whimper.

"You took so long because you 'dropped your food'?" he raised an eyebrow, "I didn't believe you for a moment, so I checked the cameras, and look who you ran off with again?"

His face paled as he listened, his body starting to tremble in fear.

"Do you know what that means, love?"

"I-I didn't- he j-just pulled me off- I d-didn't mean- Nothing hap-ppened-"

"Shirt off, love," Gabe smirked, pulling out a pocket knife, "Or I'll have to cut it off of you."

Goda stared at the knife, petrified for a few moments before starting to undress. As soon as his shirt had hit the floor, Gabe's hand was wrapped tightly around his wrists, pinning him to the wall. The hand with the knife in it moved closer.

Goda didn't remember what happened after that. All he knew was when he started fading in and out of consciousness in Gabe's arms, the cameras dead and the halls empty as they walked towards Goda's room. He heard a purr of "Such a good boy for me~" from Gabe. The next thing was his entire chest and stomach feeling like it was burning as water fell onto him, every droplet being stained red as it traveled towards the drain. The last thing he remembered was clothes being put over his new bandages before he passed out into Gabe's arms.

Someone remembered though. And it wasn't just Gabe. Neither of the two had heard, but someone had opened the door in the middle of their session.

Juan was in his room, face pale and eyes wide as he sat down on his bed. José looked over at him, blinking when he saw the state he was in. "What is it?" he asked.

His brother was silent for a long while before mumbling, "The king has been hurting him this whole time."

"What?" José said, "Hurting who?"

"Goda. I saw them, in his study- the king had a knife, I just- I should have stopped him-" he said, starting to panic. He stood up, "He's probably still up there, I could still-!"

"No, you couldn't. And you won't," José said firmly, grabbing his wrist, "We're going to stay in here."

"But hermangran he's-"

"He's going to kill you if you try anything if he's not above abusing his fiancé," José said, "Stay here."

"I'm not weak, I have my gun on me, I could-"

"If you even touched him, you'd be arrested."

"But I could at least-"

"No, you couldn't, and you won't," he narrowed his eyes, glaring at his brother.

Juan was completely silent. He sighed and lowered his head, just nodding. He wanted to go back, to pull out his gun and protect Goda but he couldn't. He knew that. He just...

What he'd seen had horrified him. Gabe had Goda pinned to the wall and was running a knife down his chest, a chest covered in blood. Goda had been crying, but he hadn't been fighting. He'd been saying what sounded like numbers every time Gabe made a new cut. He'd heard Goda's quiet pleas for mercy, for it to end. He'd seen the look in Gabe's eyes. It was hellish, sadistic, terrifying for a man in power.

Juan never wanted to see a look like that again. A look that sent shivers down your spine. A look that made you feel like you were prey, you were being hunted down and you would be destroyed if you weren't careful.

The look of a monster.

Juan sat back down. "Can I trust you to stay here, or do I have to babysit you?" José asked.

"I'll be here," he sighed.

José nodded, then left the room. They both knew what would happen if Juan ended up dead. The brothers always stayed together.

José walked down the hall and out the front door. There was a small group of guards waiting for him. "There you are, Cazado, what took you so long?" Officer Pastor asked.

"Sorry, sir, got caught up in a conversation," he said, lying seamlessly. Well, it hadn't exactly been a lie, but it was close.

"Just hurry it up next time, the plane's landing soon and we can't be late. Everyone in the car!"

Not five minutes later, they were at the airport. José was in the front of the group, as their visitor had requested. And just like the first time he saw her, and every time he saw her after, he was stunned to silence for a moment. He pushed those feelings down immediately after, even after the Queen met his eyes and smiled that beautiful smile that went perfectly with her ice-blue eyes and golden hair and-

He definitely didn't have feelings for Arial. That was completely impossible.

But however stunned José was, and however happy Arial was, and however scared Juan was, it all paled in comparison to the pain Goda felt. He was laying in Gabe's bed, slowly starting to wake up. It hurt. Everything hurt. He sat up with a groan, feeling lightheaded. Gabe was leaning against the wall.

"Get up, we're going to dinner. And change, you bled through the bandages," he said, then walked out of the room.

Goda forced himself to stand, grab a new shirt, and walk into the bathroom. He pulled off his shirt and started unwrapping the old bandages, putting on new ones. And just as it had been two months ago...

Goda stared at himself in the mirror, sighing. His torso was wrapped in bandages, a pure white only the rich could afford. Light dots of red slowly faded into existence. Bleeding. He was bleeding. Again.

But this time no footsteps interrupted. He just fell to his knees, starting to cry.