Most of AJ’s break passed by in a haze. He never left the house, never bothered to do anything. The first month home he barely left his bedroom, and he spent each night in his bed drinking until he passed out. It was the only way that he could fall asleep. He didn’t answer phone calls, didn’t leave the house. His body healed, but his spirit was still shattered. A part of him knew that he was losing his mind, but there was nothing he could seem to do about it.
The doors on his house were kept locked, and the windows stayed shut. He barely ate anything, and was losing a little weight because of it. He didn’t notice. His friends were worrying about him, leaving messages on his machine, but he ignored it all. They had no idea what was going on with him.
More and more he became dependent on alcohol, until he couldn’t get through a day without it. One month bled in to two, then two in to four. Tour was due to start up in another month, and things still hadn’t changed for AJ. The only time he left the house was to run to the store for liquor and booze.
He had just got back from one of those store runs, and had put everything away in his kitchen. Leaving the house always left him feeling panicky, almost as if he couldn’t breathe. He stood in the middle of his kitchen, trying to control the trembling in his limbs, the shortness of his breath.
AJ covered his face with his hands. He couldn’t think straight, could barely manage to breathe. It felt as if bands were wrapped around his chest, cutting off the flow of air. God, would it ever stop? What had he done to deserve this? Why had they chosen him? Those questions plagued him, never leaving him alone! He dropped his hands to the countertop, staring at the window. Why had they picked him? Why the hell was he the one who had to live with this memory, this fear?
In the decorative mirror hanging above the counter he caught sight of his reflection. The eyes that stared back at him didn’t look like his own. They were bloodshot, with dark purple rings underneath. What had happened to him? For a moment in time he was frozen. The voices came again, echoing through his brain.
‘See that, boys? Aint she a purdy one!’
‘Come over here little girl!’
‘He’s a small little thing, isn’t he?’
‘Almost as skinny as a girl!’
‘Nice as a woman, this one!’
‘Who wants the first ride on our little lady here?’
‘God, just as good as any woman! Feel that skin!’
‘Skin as soft as a baby’s!’
With a wild roar, AJ raised his hand and smashed it into the mirror. Glass flew everywhere, shards of it landing on the counter It had cut open his knuckles. He grabbed a piece, not noticing the blood already dripping from his hand. All he could think of was their words taunting him. Those hands running over his body, caressing his skin. Touching him in ways that still left him feeling dirty.
AJ pulled his shirt off and stared down at his stomach. Was this why they had done this to him? His skin? Because he was small, and soft, and reminded them of a woman? Because he had skin as soft and pure as any woman’s skin was? No man had skin like that! No man would be that soft.
The self-hatred rose, gagging him. This was his fault. All his fault. Well, he wasn’t going to let it happen again! He wouldn’t! Without pausing to think about it, he dragged that jagged piece of glass across his chest, his stomach, making small shallow gashes. He’d show them soft skin. Not so soft anymore! Never again!
On a cry of pain more deep than any cut he had made, AJ dropped the glass to the counter and smashed the rest of the mirror. He grabbed the frame, yanking it off the wall, and threw it across the kitchen. Suddenly he was grabbing anything within reach, throwing them across the room. He didn’t notice the tears; never heard the hysterical sobbing. All he could think of was breaking it, breaking all of it. Everything and anything.
A noise came from somewhere within his house, but it didn’t register in his frenzied mind. Not until a pair of hands grabbed his arms. He didn’t have time to think, only react. He swung his hands around as panic devoured him. They were back! They had come back for him! He swung with everything he had, trying to hit whoever it was that had a hold of him. He connected with something, their arm or chest, but the person was still grabbing him, trying to get a grip on his wrists, his arms. That made the panic worse.
He was beyond reason, beyond any thought but that of survival. He would not become a victim again! With renewed strength he kicked his legs out, and felt satisfied when he heard a grunt of pain. He’d show them! The hands holding his arms kept slipping, though he didn’t realize that it was because of his blood.
“AJ! Dammit, Alex, stop! Stop it, it’s me!” The voice broke through some of his haze, disorienting him. He knew that voice. Didn’t he? “Alex, please, stop!” This time it clicked, and all fight drained out of AJ in one instant. Oh sweet Jesus. That was Brian’s voice. He had hit Brian. Oh God, what kind of monster was he turning in to?
In that moment of defeat, Brian took control of the situation. He wrapped his arms tight around AJ, holding him even as the younger man sank to the floor. AJ curled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and rocking. All the while Brian held him and rocked with him. “Oh, God, Alex. What’s going on? Talk to me, please. What on earth is going on with you? What happened?” Brian asked, his voice breaking.
“I can’t do it anymore. I can’t.” AJ sobbed out. He buried his face against his knees and let the tears flow. “I’m so tired of being scared. I can’t live like this.”
“Let me help you. Please, Alex, tell me what’s going on. Talk to me!”
“I can’t, Bri, please. I can’t. Don’t make me.”
Brian buried his face in AJ’s hair, his own body trembling with fear. He had never been more terrified in his entire life than when he had unlocked AJ’s door and come into the house. Since there’d been no answer to his knocks, Brian had used his key and let himself in, disabling the alarm with the same code that AJ had always used.
He’d heard crashing coming from the kitchen, and screams that had sounded beyond hysteria. Bursting in to the kitchen, he’d found things broken in every direction, glass on the counters and the floor, and AJ in the center of it all. There had been tears falling down his face, and this horrible screams coming from him. Blood had been spattered everywhere. All Brian had thought of was stopping AJ and getting to the source of all the blood. Never had he expected AJ to attack him. Something was wrong with his friend, this man that he was falling for. Something had been wrong for far too long.
“I won’t make you, Alex. But please, can’t you confide in me? I just want to help you.”
“No one can.” AJ sobbed. “No one can help me. I can’t help me.” His life stretched before him an endless cycle of pain and heartache. Fear and hysteria. His life would never be normal again. Never.
Brian climbed to his feet. He bent and scooped AJ up in his arms, trying to ignore the flinch that his friend gave. Very carefully Brian moved him to the kitchen where he set him in a chair. From years of visiting his friend, Brian knew where everything was. He went to the drawer that held the towels and grabbed two. He then turned to the sink and soaked one in water and took them both over to AJ. He squatted down, eyes focused on the bleeding gashes on AJ’s chest.
A ripple of fear ran through AJ, harshly forced down. He would not allow himself to be afraid of Brian. Not his Brian. So he forced himself to hold completely still as Brian picked small glass bits from his skin and then washed him up. When he was done, he used the dry towel to blot them, adding slight pressure until they stopped bleeding. AJ was left with four gashes at different angels and lengths across his chest and his torso.
Part of him was horrified at what he had done. But the larger part for the moment, the part that was slightly crazy, was so glad. Not so perfect anymore. Not so soft.
“What have you done to yourself?” Brian asked softly. He looked up from where he was still squatting, and his eyes were pools of sadness. “My sweet Alex, what did you do to your beautiful skin?”
Those were the wrong words. AJ pushed to his feet, knocking the chair over. “Who gives a shit what I did.” He snapped out, placing the table between them. Even with his temper suddenly running high, the fear inside ruled what he did. He would not fight with Brian without something between them, and access to an easy escape route. “Don’t act like you fucking care..”
Brian slowly rose to his feet. “I do care, Alex. You know I do.”
“Well fuck you and your bullshit caring. Did I ask for your help? I’m just fucking fine here!”
“You’re not fine.” Still Brian stayed calm. “Look what you did to yourself. How is that calm?”
“So I had a fucking temper tantrum. I don’t need your bull shit attitude here acting like you can fix it. You can’t fix everything!” AJ threw his hands up in the air, his eyes a little wild. “There are some things in life you will never understand from the bubble of purity you live inside of, Brian Thomas. Not everything is black and white. Not everyone lives in the fantasy you do. Some of us live in the real world, with real life problems!”
Internally, AJ was aghast at what he was saying. None of it was how he felt. But that self-defense mechanism had been triggered, and he couldn’t stop it. He gestured angrily for the door. “I want you to get the fuck out of my God damn house, do you hear me? Out, now!”
“Alex…”
“OUT!”
Brian stared at him, hurt reflected on his face. Without another word he turned and left the room. AJ managed to stay on his feet long enough to listen to Brian drive away. Then he collapsed into his chair. He was an idiot. A fool. The one person in the world who could help him, and he had just chased him away. He was right. This was all his fault.