Praying Under Pressure

17 - Pain In The Ass Past

He had run out of tears.

He had bathed more in the liquid than water itself behind the glass panel. At first, it was a battle, between cold running down his face and hot beams beating on his neck. He wasn't even standing at that point. He had curled up on the porcelain floor, knees pulled to chest, ass resting on heels, balancing on mere tippy toes. 

He stayed in the position for an extraordinary amount of time. It was probably the distraction of distress that covered his body's aches and pain. Head over heels, per say. 

He began his process of mourning by treating to get his emotions under check. It didn't work well, seeing the way his chest hurt and lip quivered. He had tried to control it so no one could hear him. He wasn't sure how well Andy's bathroom covered heavy sobs. 

When thoughts began to reenter his mind, he slowly stood with achy muscles, wiping under his eyes like the shower head wouldn't just reapply. But his mind didn't mind on those matters, it was already suffocating in distress, betrayal, and defeat. And his head was beyond painful, the headache from earlier in the day ten times worse.

First, he thought about how fucking angry he was Elliot had brought Ryan into one of his homes -a safe spot. Men like Ryan ruined safe spaces. They ruined the bathroom, the library, the cafeteria, and all other public spaces. He was so fucking angry that Elliot didn't think of what had happened -or if he did, why he didn't care?

Elliot had to have known what the team did; He was part of them. But there was something about him that plead innocent in the tortures of Warren. That lead his mind to think about how he had greeted Elliot. In all honesty, it was a fucking overkill compared to Ryan. 

Because Elliot had never been a threat in the past. He was always quiet and polite. If Ward hadn't spent so much time with the team he wouldn't have known who Elliot even was. It was just so terrifying seeing someone who knew who Ward used to be. 

Ryan was ten times Elliot Fernandez. Ryan was wicked yelling and shouting on his way home from school. Ryan was stealing food and leaving death threats in his locker for a good morning call.

Ryan was a reassurance that he should have died; every single time. 

He should have died from the long scars down his forearms when he was 13. He should have died with his brother when he was 15. He should have died in the water when he was 15. He should have died from the drugs when he was 17. He should have died before he ever found out his life was shortened from the positive testing. Those are counting the real attempts.

He should have died before he ever became happy. Before he ever became Ward. 

When he was cursed with being unsinkable.

And now there's a man in the livingroom reliving what Ward left out. He's telling an unfortunate tale while the water got cold and the tears dried up. He was out there leading them to believe the lies Ward had planted, not even knowingly.

"What was he like when he was young?" Sheri was hesitant, a bit worried to be getting the information from someone else other than Ward. But they had all waited so long their patience was through. 

Ryan scoffed, "A creepy little asshole."

Something Ryan couldn't read anymore showed just how much Elliot had changed in nearly two months. Elliot had moved to grow and grow he had done. Grown bolder, grown more impulsive, and grown possessive of the people who didn't deserve what they had been given.

He sat straight up like the fire in his belly actually burned, "Ryan!" His tone was curt, aggressive. Not anything in the room was familiar with when it came to Elliot, "You didn't even know him! Where the fuck are you getting what you're saying. All this shit like you've written his biography?"