44 - Warm Arms

  He woke to familiar sensations - sting, ache, pain. But there were also some unfamiliar ones, like warmth and the lack of weight on his wrists. He shifted, grunting as the sting in his feet burned brighter. A whimper escaped his mouth, but he gritted his teeth and wrapped himself in the blanket that Stern Man left behind. A shudder ran through his body as he clung to it.

  Warm. So warm. But not like that warmth. It wasn’t the same. He wrapped himself even tighter, trying to make it the same. That warmth had been scary but also good. He remembered the thumping of his heart. His hand patted the cot.

  Duh-dum, duh-dum.

  Not the same.

  Not the same…

  He slipped quietly from the cot and immediately fell to his knees. Feet. The sting. Too much! Too sharp! But he didn’t want to stay there. It didn’t feel safe. He crawled quickly to the corner and pressed his back against the stone, drawing his knees to his chest. Another shudder. He buried his face in his knees, hugging himself tightly and trying to hide.

  Confusing. All so confusing.

  He did bad. He broke the Deal. Behave. Behave. That meant be good. That meant no attacking. That meant no breaking or hurting. But he had. The vial broke. He wasn’t careful. But then he became afraid and hurt others. He remembered the metal taste of blood in his mouth. He remembered kicking and scratching and even biting. He remembered hurting Stern Man, too, and the way his face twisted in pain when the cot flew at him.

  He broke the Deal.

  So why were there no chains?

  The lack of them did not comfort him. No rattling. No weight. No ache. But it felt too light. Too strange. Not good. He should be hurting. Why was he not? He should be punished. Why was he not? Angry Man knew. Why did they stop him? He hurt Stern Garrick. Why hadn’t Garrick…why had he held him like that? Why give him warmth?

  So, so confusing.

  He heard footsteps and murmured voices. A tremble set in his shoulders. Maybe this was it. Maybe they were just waiting until they could get him small. Get him weak. He was too tired. Not ready, not good.

  Pressing his hands to his ears, he squeezed his eye shut and made himself small in the corner. His skin tugged uncomfortably where it twisted. The door creaked open. Metal scraped against stone. The footsteps came nearer. He smelled steel and earth.

  Garrick.

  “Luka?”

  That sound again. He didn’t know what it meant, but it couldn’t be good right now. He didn’t look up.

  “Luka.”

  He didn’t want to look. He didn’t want to see. Would he look angry?

  Hands. Large, rough hands brushed against his. No! He lashed out, striking flesh. A grunt. His eye flew open. Garrick gritted his teeth and lowered his arm, rubbing it absently. Pain. Hurt. He had caused it. Again.

  The trembling worsened and he cringed, covering his head with his hands as he waited for the blow, waited for the angry shouting and yelling. His breath grew shallow. His heart pounded. A broken deal meant punishment.

  Wump!

  Something warm and heavy settled over his head and shoulders, folding him into warmth. Before he could push it away, Garrick’s arms wrapped around him again and pulled him close. He yelped and whimpered, hands pressed firmly against the man’s chest trying to get away, but the man was strong.

  Duh-dum, duh-dum.

  That sound again. The one from last night.

  Duh-dum, duh-dum.

  That warmth too.

  Tears sprang to his eyes. Despite his fear he buried his face in it, seeking that warmth.

  “It’s okay,” Garrick said.

  His voice rumbled in his chest. Okay. Was it really? Garrick seemed to think so. The man rocked him from side to side, holding him close as he whispered more sounds.

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  Eventually, the trembling stopped. Eventually, so did the sniffles and whimpers. He just lay there, clinging to that warmth, those sounds.

  Duh-dum, duh-dum.

  “There you go,” Garrick said.

  The man’s arms loosened just enough to let him peer down. He ducked his head, afraid of what he would see in Garrick’s face. But Garrick brushed his hair and tapped his forehead until he realized the man wouldn’t take no for an answer. Slowly, he turned his face to look up, eye flickering up and down in uncertainty. Garrick smiled.

  Smile? How could he smile? He frowned in return and looked down. He reached out a hand and tapped Garrick’s leg. Understanding dawned in the man’s eyes and his smile only widened while his eyes got crinkly at the corners. Garrick turned his hand into a fist and rapped his knuckles against his leg.

  “It’s good. See? I’m not hurt.”

  Not hurt. He hummed softly and pressed his head against the man’s chest, listening for the Duh-dum, duh-dum of his heart while staring at the leg. He didn’t know what to do, what to think. Why was he being like this?

  Garrick stirred a little and pulled him back again, searching for his eyes. He didn’t give them easily.

  “Will you come with me? Behave? Like last time, remember?” Garrick asked.

  He felt Garrick’s finger tap his shoulder. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Panic surged. His heart raced once more. He shook his head and growled, withdrawing. No! Not there! Not back there, where the angry man would be! Garrick arms tightened around him. The man felt tense but with a feeling he couldn’t place. It was new. It was strange. It was not anger, but it wasn’t sad, either. It lived somewhere in between, like a frown that didn’t hurt. A heavy, sad frown. But…it didn’t feel bad. Just different.

  And different wasn’t always good.

  Garrick wouldn’t let go. He grunted and whined, pushing against the man’s chest with his hands. But Garrick was strong. Much stronger than he was now. He had grown weak without his power.

  Not good.

  “Shhh, sh, sh. It’s okay, it’s okay. Not there. I promise. Not there. It’s someplace new. New, Luka. New.” Garrick murmured.

  He grunted. New. New. Always new. Never good.

  “It’s safe. You’ll have plenty to eat,” Garrick coaxed.

  Eat? That was…no, he couldn’t be sure of anything. He could go hungry. He had before.

  But then, his stomach betrayed him. A rumbling noise gurgled from deep inside his stomach. He winced and felt his face burn. Garrick’s lips pulled back and turned downward. He growled and yanked the blanket further over his eyes, huffing through his nose.

  “Hey,” Garrick said. “Sorry. I’m sorry, Luka. You’re right. It’s not funny.”

  He only huffed again, not understanding. Sighing, Garrick reached out and pulled back the blanket a little. The man tapped his nose twice, startling him, but when he opened his palm, two sugar fruits sat in his palm waiting. He glared at them even as his stomach rumbled once more. Garrick’s brows raised in surprise.

  “Well, if you don’t want them,” he said.

  Then, the man lifted his palm to his mouth smelling the sugar fruits.

  He snatched them and stuffed them into his mouth, glaring daggers. Garrick chuckled.

  “Is that a deal then?” he asked.

  He blinked in surprise before looking down at his hands. The sweet sugar already spread over his tongue. Deal? He supposed it was. His shoulders slumped. He nodded.

  He held up his hands, wrists presented loosely. Ready.

  But to his surprise, the chains never came. Garrick looked…sad. He stared nervously. Did he do something wrong? But Garrick only shook his head.

  “No more,” he said. “Remember? I made a deal. No more.”

  He dropped his hands, confused. He remembered, but he didn’t think it was a real deal. After all, he didn’t do anything. But Garrick seemed to think it was. Maybe…maybe that was good enough.

  Garrick’s grip loosened and he stood to leave. He supposed it was time to leave with him. He pushed himself up, placing one foot beneath him to stand.

  A sharp pain flared across the sole of his foot. He hissed sharply and gritted his teeth.

  “Luka, wait,” Garrick said.

  But he was already rising. He took an unsteady step forward. Sharp! Hurt! He stumbled and nearly fell.

  But then, strong arms - warm arms - scooped him up from underneath and held him. He yelped in surprise and fear as Garrick cradled him in his arms. His fingers curled into the fabric of Garrick’s shirt. His heart beat fast. He tensed, eye closed and bracing for hurt.

  Instead, it felt warm.

  As Garrick held him close and began walking towards the door, Luka felt it.

  Duh-dum, duh-dum.

  Steady. Warm. So warm.

  He buried his face there, grumbling softly. As Garrick carried him out, a new scent drifted in the air. Sharp, not sweet, but light. Fresh. Not familiar. He couldn’t help himself. He peered upwards, ready to fight, ready to run. But instead a soft round face smiled at him.

  “Hello, Luka,” she said, voice soft.

  Like Soft Hands. He blinked.

  “Luka, this is my wife. This is Amelia.”

  What was an Uh-melia? He withdrew, eyes drifting downwards as he clutched Garrick’s shirt tighter. But his nose twitched. He smelled the air. That new scent. It was coming from her. He glanced again. She was still there, still standing. Her bright eyes smiled like her mouth. Strange.

  A strange breath of air escaped Garrick’s lungs.

  “He’s not reacting. That’s good,” Garrick whispered.

  Good. He knew that word. Good. Garrick thought this was good. He relaxed a little, breathing in Garrick’s scent. If Garrick thought this was Good, then he would trust.

  “Then, perhaps it’s time to go home,” the woman said. “Home with us, Luka.”

  Home? What was home? But her smile. It was soft. Could he trust it?

  Garrick's hands tightened reassuringly before he began walking again. He trembled and pressed against Garrick again, trying not to panic. He didn’t know where he was going, but these arms had held him once before and they never hurt. They felt safe. He would trust them once more.