The Runaway Boy

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER NINE

CHRISTIAN LET TOMMY come back to the shop after three days of staying home in recovery. He was thankful for being out of his house for a change, though the time he was there wasn't too bad either. Mason continued to stay with him, he didn't show any signs of leaving anytime soon either. Tommy didn't lie when he told him that he slept easier knowing he was in the nearby, it confused him, but he'd rather not think of the weird compatibility the two of them had. After the dinner on Sunday night Tommy had a nightmare that he didn't remember whatsoever but after that Mason slept on the other couch which he had moved close to the window, creating an L shape with the one Tommy slept on.

Tommy noticed how light of a sleeper Mason was that night, and how the smallest of movements woke him violently. He didn't ask, but he didn't have too either, he didn't know what happened to Mason, but he did know that Jonathan was the cause - and Tommy knew him well enough to know that he was the root of Mason's issues as well. Tommy could tell that sleeping near him meant that he was getting a broken sleep since Tommy frequently flinched and jostled around in his own sleep, Mason had the bags under his eyes to prove it and the coffee intake that could kill a horse.

By Friday, the white of Tommy's eye started to clear of blood, and the swelling went down, his bruises were still bright and bold but were now surrounded in the yellow of aged bruising. Tommy didn't stay long to look at his reflection in the mornings, just enough to check the healing process of his eye. He had a bad relationship with his appearance, and it wasn't because he thought he was ugly, he knew that when he wasn't pale and skinny with malnutrition and sleep-deprivation, bruised or bloodied, he could be a quite attractive young man. It was the fact that staring back at him in the mirror, more often than not was his brother, they were almost a spitting image of each other. They were 7 years apart, and yet Jonathan heralded only a scar down the right side of his face to show their differences.

Tommy wished he looked more like Christian, he thought that he'd be able to stomach that even after Christian had left. As he looked at him now, grumbling to himself in annoyance as he tinkered with a car engine, grease stricken hands and grease smudged against cheek - he thought he'd be able to stomach it. They weren't anywhere close to being the way they used to be, Tommy didn't know if they could ever be like that again, but he was trying. As he watched Christian struggle to fix the engine, he smiled softly, biting back a laugh at the frustration that pinched his face.

"Get out of the way old man," Tommy sighed which earned him a sour look from his uncle and a loud cackle from Harry who somehow heard it over the rock music that blasted through the shop.

"I'm only 32 years old, who the hell are you calling old?" Christian bit back, there was no hostility in his voice though, but he still stood up straight and took a step away from the engine.

"I don't know, sounds pretty old to me," Tommy continued to tease as he took out the flashlight to get a better look.

"You are going to have a rude awakening when you hit 32, and I remind you of this moment."

"If I make it," Tommy was going to say, but he bit it back and glanced over his shoulder only briefly to see Christian's eyes still on the engine instead of him, unaware of what he just said.

"Look, it's just the wiring in here," Tommy exclaimed and handed him the torch. Christian leaned over the engine to look down where the flashlight was pointed and let out a sigh, squinting as if his vision was failing him.

"I think it's time you get some glasses," Tommy suggested which only elicited a not so confident grunt from Christian as he leaned further into the engine, muddling around with the wiring that Tommy had just pointed out to him

"Alright I'm going on lunch," Tommy added, patting him on the shoulder and wiping his hands off on the cloth in his back pocket.

"Aye, remember to take Mason with you if you're heading out," Christian called back to him from the hood of the car as Tommy made his way to the open garage entrance. Tommy hung his head back and groaned in mock annoyance before turning back towards the office's where he knew Mason was currently working with Nicky on the new computer system that was sure to piss Christian right off, mainly because he just got used to the old one.

He pushed open the door which was already open ajar to see them both on the other side of the desk, Mason was standing behind the chair Nicky was seated in, leaning over him as he pointed at something on the screen that made Nicky chuckle at. Tommy shoved his hands in his pants pockets and rolled around on the balls of his feet awkwardly until he was noticed. That, of course, didn't take long because Mason seemed to always see him the moment he walks into a room, his hazel eyes honing in on him like a lion to prey.

"Hungry?" Mason asked bluntly, and it took Nicky a moment to realize he wasn't the one being talked to since he started saying "oh, not really actually I-" but he caught on quick enough when he too, noticed Tommy in the doorway.

"Mmm," Was all Tommy replied along with a short nod. Mason clapped Nicky on the shoulder and stood up straight, leaving him to finish the program himself. Tommy expected Nicky to complain or tease but instead, he did that little hidden smile that he sometimes did.

Mason and Tommy both headed out onto the street where they walked down towards the Diner where both Lucy and Sasha would be working today. The midday sun bore down on them, and Tommy shifted uncomfortably in the layers of clothes he wore. Even though it was Autumn, the sun still packed a little bit of warmth, and also though Tommy was used to wearing hoodies in Summer, it still was a nuisance when his scars rubbed against the fabric as he started to sweat.

The old man named Stuart who worked in the old antique furniture shop waved enthusiastically as the two of them walked past, his round, metal-framed glasses sliding down his nose slightly. Both Tommy and Mason waved politely back as they had for the last couple days since he'd asked what happened to Tommy's face. Tommy told him that he fell from a ladder when clearing the roof guttering of leaves. It was a believable story since it was Autumn, and all the bruising was mostly on the left side of his face. Stuart had replied saying that 'Howard' aka - Christian, should've let him stay at home longer to recover.

They made it to the Diner named "Lucy's" - obviously makes after the owner. Her name was in neon linked lettering above the door as they walked through the bell jingled. A lot of the town workers were sitting in their usual booths on their lunch breaks, inhaling either the breakfast or lunch menu. Tommy had always loved retro diners, he'd spent enough time in them on the run, yet even without bias Lucy's Diner was his favourite. Fairy lights hung from the ceiling and one wall was covered in old records. His mom used to have an old record player and every time he stepped foot inside, Lucy would have something playing on the old machine in the corner.

Mason and Tommy sat in their now usually place by the window as they waited. Sasha, of course, spotted them instantly and held up two fingers signalling that she would be just a moment. Tommy gazed out to the Main Street of Winchester. The trees that lined the roads were a mixture of soft pinks, browns, and oranges. It was relaxing to watch the leaves drop from their branches and sway slowly through the air to the ground. He liked it here, he'd be sad when he'd have to leave. He made the decision Sunday night after seeing the Hartford's and Christian over the dinner table laughing over their usual playful banter. He made the decision that he wouldn't let Jonathan get them, that he'd be gone at the first sign that he'd caught up.

He wondered if it'd hurt. Leaving them. He'd stopped caring about the people he used for cover two years ago, but in just two short weeks, he'd let these people in. He'd thought that maybe he could blame it on the influence Christian still had over him. In reality, he thought that it really was the fact that he was just tired of running, tired of feeling nothing... of being nothing. He felt a pang of guilt strike him hard in the chest, and he was even more surprised when he flinched, the thoughts of leaving them was already making him hurt and dread it. Something sharp jabbed his hand, and when he glanced down, he saw that Mason was prodding his knuckles with a fork.

"Tommy, what do you want?" Mason said, a sceptical look on his face. Tommy glanced around, still feeling slightly dazed by his jumbled thoughts and found Sasha standing there with a wary smile and a notepad in her hands.

"Oh, sorry," Tommy muttered and didn't miss the look that she flicked Mason. Tommy pretended to not see it by gazing over the menu, not really reading any of it.

"Just the pancakes and coffee please," he added and set the menu down. She nodded, and Mason must've already ordered his food because she walked back towards the kitchen without another word.

"Don't even think about it," Mason exclaimed, his voice bored and apathetic as he raised his glass of water to his lips. Tommy flicked his eyes bad at him in question, waiting for elaboration.

"What has you so spooked? You have been looking around at all of the exits as if you are going to make a break for it," Mason said, his finger tapping against the silver stem of his fork as he rested his cheek in his other hand. Tommy didn't want to tell him that it was what Christian said back at the shop that had him on edge or the fact that he was still dead-set on running the moment things got tough so he opted for silence.

Mason didn't push it; instead, he just lifted his glass of water to his lips and took a sip, his eyes on something outside the window. Tommy thought that Mason was used to his zoning out now since he had been staying at his place for the past week. Tommy got lost in thought often, though it was very rare that it made him physically react as he had just before. He thought it must've been because it was very rarely that he felt guilty, it was new to him. He didn't like it, so he swallowed it back and chewed the inside of his lip.

"I'm just going to the bathroom, wait here," Mason said, tapping his hand on the table in front of Tommy's face to grab his attention.

"I'm not going to run off, I'm fine," Tommy bit back, resting his cheek into his hand, mirroring how Mason had just moments ago had been sitting. Tommy flicked him a mischievous smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and Mason just hummed in response, obviously not believing him before disappearing behind the wall and into the hallway that led to the bathrooms.

Tommy looked for any sign of Lucy or Sasha, but they were both out of sight. Sasha had been begging Lucy to teach her how to cook recently, so Tommy just assumed that Lucy had given in to her daughter and was letting her help for once. Maybe Lucy though that just because it was Mason and Tommy's food she could get away with it being a little burnt at the edges. He smiled at the thought and hadn't realized he had let his eyes close until he felt the weight of someone sit down on the booth next to him, boxing him in with the window at his back.

Tommy was about to curse out Mason for getting so close, but his eyes landed on someone else entirely, and his blood ran cold. Samuel Morgan sat in the booth next to him, his skin where he had curved his own initial is burnt wildly, and Tommy had to fight every bit of his fear to not kick away from him and run. Sam had his arm resting on the table, closing the space between them, he was still wearing his overalls, but they hug around his waist with only a white t-shirt on the top to fight the winter chill.

Tommy clenched his hands into fists on his laps, feeling his nails dig deep into the palms of his hands, undoubtedly breaking the skin and lining it with half crescent moon shaped cuts. Tommy's teeth sunk into the inside of his cheek and he tasted blood, it was oddly comforting, wrenching his from a whirlwind of fear and emotions and bringing him back to the man who sat in front of him.

"Long time no see Tommy," Samuel grinned, his chalky blond hair was stained slightly black from his work in the mines, and he still smelt of coal, though his teeth that broke through his smile were bright white and clean through the layer of muck that clung to his skin.

"Oh, it's just you," Tommy muttered back and turned his attention, nonchalantly to his glass of water in front of him. He rested his fingertips to it, grasping it lightly but didn't dare on picking it up, doing so, would show the tremble wracking his body.

"You forgot me so easily? I'm offended, I distinctly remember marking you," Samuel moved lightning quick, too fast for Tommy to even register what he was doing until it was too late.

Samuel had his hand up and under his work shirt and hoodie before Tommy even had the chance to grab his wrist and pry his filthy hand away. Samuel smiled almost softly as he brushed his fingers along the scars, his thumb caressing each jagged line as if he had the right to touch. He seemed to find what he was looking for and instantly dug his fingertips into the almost healed wound he originally carved in, tearing the raw flesh back open. Tommy stifled a gasp, his gaze flicked violently up to Samuel as he instead dug his fingers into his own thigh to redirect the pain. He couldn't retaliate, not here in the Diner, not without following through with whatever plan that Mason was figuring out.

"Get your filthy hand off of me before I break it," Tommy spat furiously under his breath. He didn't dare look away from Samuel to see if anybody had noticed the tension or if Mason was finished up in the bathroom yet. He kept his eyes narrowed on the grin of the man in front of him.

"Oh, so snappy, but I highly doubt I am the first man to lay a hand on you am I?" Samuel brushed off the threat and instead dragged his open hand around the side of Tommy's hip to his lower back, causing him to shiver in disgust. Samuel's smile widened at how his body reacted and leaned further in until his lips were pressing against Tommy's ear, his warm breath lolling down Tommy's neck.

"I wonder if the beautiful scars on that chest of yours are the only scars you bear. I bet they a rooted deeper inside you, huh? I'm quite curious you see, I wonder just how deep those scars go, I -" Samuel couldn't say anymore because as he started to move his hand further down, panic rolled through Tommy instantly and that was the last mistake Samuel was able to make. Tommy had managed to wedge his legs up between them, and with all the force he could muster, threw his feet into his chest.

Samuel landed with a loud thud on the wooden floor of the Diner, the sound echoing through the room which had everyone's eyes gravitating towards them in curiosity. Tommy used the momentum to boost himself from his cornered position in the booth, and soon enough he was running, he ignored how his ribs screamed in protest, he ignored Sasha calling his name, he ignored Samuel's threat to get back here. He ran instead.

He found comfort in the feeling of it, of fleeing. He hated himself for it. He hated that no matter how far he ran or how far he managed to get away from his past - it was still brought up, still sought out by the people he encountered along the way. He hated how it was used against him, he hated how his body took the torture, and his mind was stuck with it. There were so many layers of his pain and torment that he couldn't even access until it was triggered and then he couldn't stop it.

His chest tightened, and his throat was thick with a raspy scratch, his lungs were as tight as a rubber band being pulled to its limit. He couldn't help but be afraid, Samuel Morgan had managed to dredge up that part of his memories that he'd bury far down within himself. He didn't like to be touched, he loathed it actually, and Samuel stepped over an unforgivable line when he lay his hand on him like that. Tommy wished he'd just have the beating again instead of that, he wished for anything else but that.

Tommy didn't realize it until his name was being shouted out over the pulsating rock music and the clatter of tools being dropped against the concrete ground, that he had made a beeline for the shop. He stumbled over a toolbox on the way but made it just in time to the bathroom, upending the rest of his stomach contents into the toilet. Nausea clawed at his throat, and he tried to force down the bile, but it was too late. His morning cups of coffee spewed out of his coughing and choking mouth. His stomach kept on contracting violently, forcing everything up and out. His face was white and dripping bile, sweat, and tears. Tommy lurched forward and sunk to his knees, grasping at the toilet bowl. The pungent stench invaded his nostrils, and he heaved even though there was nothing left to go.

"Tommy!?" Nicky called out, crashing his way into the bathroom, with the other two falling behind. Tommy kept an iron grip on the toilet and was incredibly thankful that Christian had forced Harry to clean it this morning. He instinctively made a full-body flinch when Nicky crouched down next to him, his hand extending out to rub his back in support.

"Don't, please," Tommy said through rigid breaths, glancing only briefly to see the look on Nicky's face. His eyebrows were pulled together in confusion and worry, but he nodded and seemed to notice the way Tommy's gaze followed the movement of his hands up until they were resting on his knees.

He could hear Harry shouting for Christian who must've been on a smoke break behind the shop and hadn't seen Tommy's frantic dash into the shop. Tommy didn't care; instead, he closed his eyes and pressed his head against his arm, he had to control himself because if he didn't, he'd fall into the memories of his past that were already starting to tear him apart. He could feel Vincent and Maura's heavy hands on him, Jonathan's two most trusted guard dogs. He could feel her manicured fingernails and his teeth digging into Tommy's raw and open flesh as they continued the torture long after Jonathan was done with him.

He could feel that one man from the list of 'trusted' contacts that Jules left him with, the list was more like 'people who would most probably help him due to their hatred of the Sinclair family' some of those people took it out on him instead. He could feel that man's body over him, his fingers scraping down the scars, he could feel his warm breath along his neck as he called the scars a work of art just as Samuel had. Panic choked him, and he tried to vomit again, but all that came out was a hysterical laugh.

"Tommy, what happened?" Nicky didn't have time to get his full warning out before Christian laid his hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly. That squeeze was all that was needed for Tommy to jerk his body away just in time to heave into the toilet bowl again. All that came up was the acidic bile.

"Don't touch me," Tommy choked out, unable to hide his own grimace at the way his words came out broken.

This is why he avoided people's touch unless he instigated it, he wanted to prevent this type of reaction, the violently physical response to touch that had him rejecting it as best his body knew how. Throwing it back up. He was cracking down the middle without anything but the toilet bowl to hold onto. Christian took post up at the other side of him, and Tommy made sure to glance over to find his hands mirroring that of Nicky's - rested on his knees and in his sight as if they had already clicked on what was going on without him having to confirm it.

"Harry, go find Mason," Christian ordered to Harry who was still in the doorway looking in.

"Too late, he's found us," Harry exclaimed, and Nicky moved out of the way as Mason took his spot next to the toilet. Tommy's heart pounded so hard in his chest that he grabbed hold of his hoodie, knotting it tightly into a fist in front of him as if preparing to catch it when it burst it's way out.

"Stop it," Mason said in his usual apathetic tone which grounded Tommy to the bones. Tommy knew that he wasn't telling Tommy to stop his panic but rather stop running. He sensed movement next to him and instantly flinched, but moments later when he opened his eyes again as if expecting to see a hand coming for him, all he saw was Mason staring back at him.

Mason knew better than to touch him. He'd known from that first car ride to the shop almost two weeks ago after he tried to shake Tommy awake. From then on Mason hadn't touched him first and the look in his eyes told Tommy that he completely understood that this was definitely not the time to bend the rules, that he understood completely what was happening. Tommy glanced down at Mason's hands anyway and what he saw made him chuckle slightly. He wasn't sure if it was because he genuinely found it funny or found it annoying. Mason's knuckles were red and would eventually turn purple, small splits wheeled with blood meaning he got a few good hits in.

"Don't go protecting my honour, I won't thank you for it," Tommy exclaimed, wiping the spit off of his chin with the back of his hand. Mason just narrowed his eyes on him, pressing his lips together in vague irritation.

"What did he say to you?" Mason said, his voice unchanging, it was his eyes that broke through the apathy and revealed the burning anger that ravaged through him, enough to cause a slight tremor in his hands.

"Nothing important," Tommy muttered back and stood, flushing the toilet and mockingly brushing his hands down the front of his hoodie as if to straighten himself out.

"Now if you don't mind, it seems I have come down with a stomachache, so I'll be going home early," Tommy forced his words into ease, pushing down the rest of his emotions until he could deal with them at home and without an audience.

"Tommy, wait for a-" Christian said as he stood, obviously forgetting his warning because he started to reach out and all Tommy saw were the heavy hands that had dragged over his scarred skin and called it beautiful... Tommy jerked his body viciously out of the way and grabbed hold of Christian's wrist firmly, twisting it uncomfortably. Christian bit down on his bottom lip but didn't speak even when Nicky stepped forward to intervene.

"I don't care who you are, Uncle or not, I told you not to touch me," Tommy spat cruelly, tears stung his eyes, and he knew that his uncle saw them too because his confusion settled for a saddened look of understanding. Tommy released his wrist and shoved his trembling hands into his pockets. He didn't look back as he walked out of the shop.

Nobody knew just how deep Tommy's scars ran, he didn't even know. He only got a fair idea of it when something happened that seemed to trigger an onslaught of past memories that were etched into his skin. He never knew how to control it when things got like this, and it was made increasingly harder by the Hartford's support of him. When he had stayed with previous people they had always left him to his own grief and depression, they let him hide on the sofa, he pushed to the window. Mason had dragged him out of it and was pushing him day by day to get away from the window.

Mason fell into step with him as they walked towards his car and Mason didn't say anything as Tommy stared over the car roof at him, hand on the passenger door handle waiting to be let into the car. It looked like he wanted to ask something but must've decided that it could wait because moments later he unlocked the door and got in. Tommy grimaced as he lowered himself into the seat and pulled his hoodie and shirt up to see the blood. Samuel had popped his stitches.

"I don't like being touched because it feels as though all the times I have been - always turned malicious. People, especially men, thought that because I was already broken, they could do what they want and get away with it, that I wouldn't fight back... I'm done living like that, but still, every time it happens and I'm not expecting it, I feel so disgusted that I can't even hold myself together, it's like my body rejects it," Tommy explained. It was some of the truth that he didn't expect to say, so he kept his eyes down on the leaking and oozing SM carved into the skin above his hip.

"You are not broken," Mason murmured.

"What?" Tommy asked, shocked by that response. He didn't think he heard right, nor did he want to believe it. Mason of all people, a man who had gone through his share of trauma, a man who too, keeps it buried and locked away, should know what this brokenness feels like. Instead, he just sat there in the driver's seat, his eyes gazing back at Tommy like he didn't understand the confusion at all.

"You are not broken, if you were so broken by touch you wouldn't even ask for it, yet you've asked me to touch you and trusted me to watch your back," Mason began to explain, and Tommy raised his eyebrows feigning confusion.

"After you were beaten, you asked me for help with getting your jersey off and you let me help stitch you up. That night when you panicked, after figuring out it was me holding you - you gave in. You held my hand the whole night. You fell asleep on my shoulder at the beach. You've trusted me to sleep not even three meters away from you for the last week. If these men had broken you, Tommy, you wouldn't trust me."