CHAPTER SIX - PAMPERING
Tyke was barking again as Brian shoved the door roughly open and carried the precious bundle into their home, careful not to jerk him or knock him against the door. His knees were buckling and threatening to give way in shock. He had been right, it had been him Nick had seen…
He was gulping and almost choking on the lump within his throat. He couldn’t believe it… His wet hands were trembling as they held B
“Quiet Tyke!” Brian snapped as the brown eyes gazed up at him curiously and he bounced up to try and see what he was carrying.
It was almost too much to take in and his entire body shook as he pushed the hood back from B’s face to reveal his light, messy hair. He almost didn’t dare to believe it as the green eyes opened to gaze at him, darting about in fear at Tyke’s growls.
“Tyke!” Brian said again. “Basket, now!”
Tyke whined slightly, hurt at the tone of his master’s voice. His tail drooped and he slunk away to his basket, staring back in case he was called again, but Brian had something more important to worry about than the dog.
He cradled B lovingly in his arms. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “You’re safe with me now.”
A small smile curled B’s lips, until it was replaced with a sneeze. He sniffed and pulled out a black, grubby sleeve from beneath the leather jacket he wore before wiping his wet face with it.
He carried B into the lounge and gently placed him down on the couch. He wasn’t heavy. If anything he seemed to be even lighter than Brian remembered him being. The lost weight was not a good sign, weren’t things supposed to be better in his time now that the Gerai had been defeated… what had led B to become like this?
B’s eyes attempted to flicker open but he winced at the bright light overhead and turned his face away in discomfort. Brian pressed a hand against his forehead and wiped away the new layer of dampness that had gathered there, frowning in concern as he realised that it was more sweat than rainwater.
“B, are you all right?” he asked.
“Still alive,” B murmured in reply. His eyes finally seemed to adjust to the dazzling brightness and he slowly focused upon Brian. He smiled and weakly reached his hands out to entwine them with Brian’s, as if he had to cling onto him to stop the dream from fading and leaving him out on the dark streets here. “So glad you’re here…” His eyes closed and slowly a tear began to trickle down his face. “I missed you…” The tears began to come faster and then he sobbed.
Brian rubbed his hand reassuringly and sniffed back the tears in his own eyes. The last time he had seen B, he had been saying goodbye to him forever, but now he was here. “I missed you too.” He smiled and wiped his eyes for a moment. “I can’t believe it’s you. I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”
“Dad…” B started to sob again, heart wrenching and deep emotional cries of some inner pain that tormented his heart.
His hands gripped Brian’s as tightly as his weakened state would allow him to, but they were rapidly slipping as his muscles relaxed to let out the sobs. Brian carefully clambered upon to the couch with him and wrapped his arms about the thin body. B crawled into the embrace, sobbing desperately as he held the one he thought he would never see again.
“B, what’s wrong?” Brian asked, his son’s distress beginning to affect him as his own sobs rose in his throat. “What happened?”
It had to be something bad to leave him in this state… This was caused by something more than just being lost and alone on the streets…
Or wasn’t he alone? What if Sammy was with him? No, he would have said immediately if Sammy needed help… but then what was B doing here alone? Sammy would never have let this happened to him…
There was a sickening feeling in Brian’s stomach as he tried to think through that and he found himself unable to process the thoughts… Something very bad had happened to leave B out alone like this in a time he knew nothing about and there was definitely something that had upset him. Nothing else could have made him leave Sammy and there was a distinct melancholy light in his eyes. Something had happened… something so terrible that it made B run away like this. He had run away before, but to come to the past had to mean there was something big to run away from.
What if something had happened to Sammy?
“B,” he whispered faintly. “Did something happen to Sammy?”
He had to know…
B sobbed again and for a moment Brian felt his heart almost destroying itself within his chest before B finally nodded. “He’s fine,” he said softly, so softly that Brian could barely hear him. “Sammy’s fine.” He wiped his face on the jacket. “He’s fine.”
“Then what’s happened?”
B gave another sob and then coughed for a moment, his chokes sounding violent and painful. He stared up at Brian, his green eyes pleading. “Please dad, can I stay with you?” he sobbed.
Brian could feel tears in his eyes. How many times had he dreamt of seeing B again? How many times had the boy walked right up to him in the street or watched him from the crowd of a concert? Each time he would awake to find it was a dream and sometimes he would keep his eyes firmly closed to prolonge the dream and try to make himself believe that it was real.
“Of course you can,” he whispered, hardly even daring to breathe anymore in case he somehow shattered everything before him. He pressed his hand back against B’s face and felt the cold skin beneath his fingers, showing him how real he was.
He wiped the fringe away from his son’s forehead and watched his laboured breathing as his chest slowly rose and fell. There was a rasping noise every time he breathed and his face was pale… too pale. Suddenly B began to cough. He spluttered and whimpered slightly as he jerked in Brian’s arms before covering his mouth with his hands.
He wasn’t well and he didn’t look it either. The eyes were ringed with red and dark shadows that suggested exhaustion and his cheeks were pale after the long exposure to the cold. His eyes lingered upon the blood on the black cloth which draped down his legs from the bottom of the leather jacket. Presumably he was wearing a cloak of some kind beneath the jacket.
“Are you hurt?” he asked anxiously. There was a lot of blood… and Brian did not like that one little bit.
B bit his lip and nodded. He clutched one arm protectively to his chest. “It’s not bad,” he murmured.
“Let me see.”
B slowly slipped the dripping leather jacket from his shoulders, which fell to the floor with a distinctively wet splat, and Brian watched on in concern as B still shivered. It was easy to see why as well. He wore a long but thin shabby, black cloak that ended in rags just below the knees and as that fell beside the jacket, he was left in thin, muddy brown pants and a grey t-shirt. Brian’s eyes soon found the blood that covered the right bicep and that had dried and stained the t-shirt, both of which were dripping with water. Gently he gripped the arm to examine the wound, still bleeding but only slightly and the cut was thin and deep which immediately put Brian in mind of a knife. He pressed a hand against B’s face as the boy winced at the fingers touching the sore, red skin. He had been lucky. A knife wound like this to his other arm with the scar could have been fatal. Brian’s hands were trembling at the thought. B could have been dead in that alley when Nick found him…
“B, who did this to you?”
B shook and wrapped his arms about his chest for warmth in his wet garments. “I – I…” He sneezed suddenly and then followed it up by a cough.
There wasn’t time for explanations, even though Brian was dying to know how this was all possible. B needed seeing to immediately. The pleasure at seeing him again was quickly pushed aside by fierce parental concern.
“All right, don’t talk now,” Brian whispered as he wrapped his arms about his soaking son and cradling him close. “We need to get you cleaned up and out of those wet clothes.”
“I’m tired,” B said as he pressed his head against Brian’s shoulder like a pillow.
“And you’re wet through. Come on.”
Carefully he helped B to stand, steadying him as he swayed from exhaustion and held onto Brian tightly. He slowly led him out of the lounge and towards the staircase.
“Where are we going?” B asked, looking about his new surroundings.
“You’re going in the shower.”
“No… I don’t like water,” B complained.
“But this will be warm water and you need it. You’re still shivering and cold.”
“Can I go to bed after?”
“No, you’re eating something hot after,” Brian said, going through the things that B needed in his head. Dressing for the wound, shower, clean clothes, thick blanket, bowl of hot soup, hot water bottle and a warm bed.
“I’ve only been here five minutes and you’re already bossing me around…” B said sniffing as he smiled faintly, the sobs finally dissolving away as he melted into the blissful love and safety that Brian offered him.
Brian smiled at him, relieved that he seemed to be recovering some of his humour after his frightening experience outside and alone, but he was still crying faintly. Some terrible tragedy had brought this on; there was nothing else that could make him this weak. He clung onto Brian so tightly that it physically hurt as his fingers gripped him harshly.
Brian could not help but feel uneasy at the behaviour. B said Sammy was fine, but surely there was no one else could get him in a state like this. B loved Sammy. They were family and B would cry himself to death if anything happened to him, much like he was doing now.
But perhaps Brian was reading too much into it. B had obviously been through a horrible experience on the streets of America, not to mention his view of certain parts of Nick’s anatomy (God, he felt like hitting Nick for being so irresponsible. He had been sympathetic at first but now he found out that it was his son his friend had flashed at… )
B could barely walk as Brian led him to the stairs and it definitely seemed to cause him pain when weight was placed on the left foot.
“What’s wrong with your foot?”
“Fell over and banged my ankle. I’ve got a few cuts down there as well, but they’re only grazes,” B muttered. “It doesn’t hurt… much.”
Brian looked up at the many stairs that lie before them and then down at his frail son. Without another word he scooped him into his arms before beginning to carry him up. He didn’t want B to damage his ankle even more.
“I’m fine. I can walk,” B said, but he made no move to struggle or wriggle out of the arms.
“It’s easier this way,” Brian said.
He used his elbow to smack the light switch on the landing and then crossed over to the bathroom. Gently he placed B down upon the carpet outside of the bathroom door and his son sighed at the fluffiness beneath him and rubbed his cheek against it, savouring the softness.
“I’ll get some bandages for your arm and be right back,” Brian promised as he rubbed B’s shoulder comfortingly. “Hang on in there.”
“I’m not dying,” B said weakly, before he began coughing again.
Brian did not need any further encouragement as he began to leap down the stairs two at time. B was bad. Very bad. Brian had no idea how long he’d been on the streets for and that cough sounded nasty. Coupled with the bleeding and the shock of the cold, it wasn’t good.
He dashed into the kitchen and quickly fumbled about the cupboard until he found the plastic box which contained the first aid kit. He had never bothered with one before he had Sammy. While his mother was staying with them Sammy had fallen and grazed his knees and she had given Brian a harsh telling off when she realised that there was no first aid kit. She had fumed at his lack of cautiousness and refused to speak to him the entire morning before she disappeared out, later returning with the best first aid kit the local shop had and a huge bag of sweets for Brian and Sammy to share.
He seized the box and opened it to check that all the contents were there that he needed. Perfect. It even had the antiseptic. He clambered back up the stairs, almost tripping over and falling onto his face in his haste to return to B’s side.
B was still lying motionless outside of the bathroom his face pale and sickly. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell as he breathed, with a rasping noise emitting from his lips.
“B?” he asked wondering if he had fallen asleep. “BB?”
“Hmmm?” B replied sleepily.
“Don’t fall asleep just yet. I need to see to your arm.” He bowed his head and gently placed a kiss upon his cheek.
He left the first aid kit on the floor and then crossed to the airing cupboard, cursing the size of the house which meant that precious time was wasted merely in walking to the separate rooms. He yanked open the squeaky door and then pulled out the two biggest, fluffiest red towels. He hesitated a moment and then found out a smaller, older blue one. He didn’t even bother to shut the door before he was entering his own room and yanking open his wardrobe. He pulled out several jerseys and pants and threw them onto the bed in an untidy heap. He bit his lip as he tried to decide which ones would fit B better, before deciding upon an old, whit sweater and some khaki pants. He grabbed a t-shirt and then he was flying back down the corridor to B, who was still determined to go to sleep it seemed. He was still lying upon the carpet, his eyes peacefully closed.
“B, come on, sit up,” he coaxed covering him up with one of the big, warm towels.
B’s hands immediately came to take the towel, but he covered it over himself like a blanket before lying back down again.
“B, I mean it. You’re getting cleaned up before you go to sleep.”
“Mmmm,” B replied.
Brian sighed as he stood up and pulled the cord to illuminate the bathroom. He turned the faucet and ran his fingers under the clear, cold water, anxiously waiting for it to heat up. Eventually the warmth was reaching his fingers and he shoved the blue towel beneath the stream before returning to B.
B was lying on his left, scarred arm, exposing the bloody wound on his right. Brian pulled the towel away from him elicitation a feeble moan of complaint from B.
“All right, I’ll clean you up lying down,” Brian said, refused to be beaten.
Gently he began to dab at the blood on his shoulder, careful not to rob roughly on the wound and cause it to bleed even more. He scrubbed away at the brown, dried blood that had stuck to his skin and dabbed about the wound. B winced slightly at the pain it caused, but he remained still.
Brian unscrewed the cap of the antiseptic and tipped a few drops out onto the towel, rubbing the corners together to mingle it with the water.
“This might sting a little, but keep still,” Brian warned.
B mumbled something unintelligible in response and Brian dabbed at the wound with the towel again. Immediately B’s eyes snapped open and he jerked his arm away.
“Ow! You’re supposed to help me, not torture me!” he croaked in complaint, as he cradled his arm to him.
“It’s to stop infection,” Brian said. “Keep still.”
B tentatively held his arm back out and Brian cleaned the wound as quickly as possible but making sure that every piece of grit and dirt was removed. He dropped the towel and then grabbed the roll of bandages and began to wrap it about his arm tightly to stop the bleeding.
“There you go, all done. I’ll change it again when you get out of the shower.”
“What was the point in doing it now?”
“Because you were bleeding! I can’t just let you bleed all over me!”
“Mmm, point taken,” B said, his eyes closing again.
Brian watched him. B looked so sweet when he was asleep but Brian couldn’t allow him to have his own way about this. He’d catch pneumonia if he stayed like that for much longer, if he hadn’t caught it already…
But B seemed anything but willing to do what he was told. He was only too happy to sleep on something other than concrete slabs.
“B, get up. I swear I’ll undress you myself if I have to get you out of those damn wet clothes!” he tried.
B groaned slightly and very slowly he clambered to his feet, grabbing his big, warm towel on the way up as he sneezed. “You’re mean.”
“It’s for your own good,” Brian said simply, parent mood having now completely taken over.
B smiled. “You’re a nice dad though.” He leaned against Brian’s shoulder slightly for support.
Brian gave him a quick, loving embrace treasuring every moment as he knew it wouldn’t last forever. Unlike Sammy, B was not with him every day to cuddle and love and spoil. His body suddenly registered the wet clothes again and the puddle that was forming on the carpet. He broke away and led B into the bathroom.
“Do you know how to work this?” he asked, gesturing to the shower.
B frowned slightly at all the unusual buttons and knobs. “No.”
Brian pressed the red button and a jet of water spurted out of the showerhead, spraying him neatly in the face. B giggled slightly as Brian turned it away from him and then wiped his wet cheeks.
“Now who’s being mean?” he teased. “Look B, this dial controls temperature. If you want it hotter then move it to the red section, colder to the blue. All right?”
“Okay.”
“Push the white button when you’re done. You don’t need to be long. You just need to get clean. You can put these on when you’re done.” He placed the spare clothes on top of the wash basket beside the shower.
“All right,” B said placing his towel on the rail. “What about you? You’re wet as well.”
Brian looked down at his won soaking clothes, but dismissed them immediately. B was more important at the moment. “I’ll get changed in a moment.” He handed B the other towel and then turned to the door to leave B for his shower. He closed it behind him and then stood with his back to it, his heart beating hard inside of him.
He was still trembling as well. It was all too perfect and it seemed as if B had felt Brian’s misery across time and come to him…
But that wasn’t true. There was a much darker reason as to why B was here now; it showed in his soulful, green eyes. Brian had a heavy, ominous stone squatting inside of his stomach and he felt sick as he thought of Sammy. Why wasn’t Sammy looking after B? Why had B run away from Sammy? Surely he wouldn’t do that! He drummed his fingers against the door as he thought. He was missing something. B had said that Sammy was all right and Brian believe him, knowing that B wouldn’t lie about something like that and that he would be beyond distraught if something had happened to his brother.
He wouldn’t get any answers until morning. As much as he wanted them, he couldn’t force B into talking tonight in his state. He was too upset and he needed to rest.
Brian crossed back to his own room, taking an extra towel from the airing cupboard and shutting the door on his way. He wiped his damp face with his hands and then yawned slightly, the emotions having drained what little strength remained at this time of the night. He shivered slightly and finally decided to do something about his own wet clothes. He threw off the soaking jeans and sweater before drying himself off with the towel. He sighed as he pulled on a dry jersey, the warm fabric soft against his cold skin and then tugged on the navy jeans.
What did he do now?
Hot food for B, that was it. He didn’t look as if he had been eating well recently and Brian would be happier if he knew that his son had at least eaten something before going to bed. It wouldn’t help him if he didn’t.
He stretched his arms and then made his way downstairs, the sound of splashing water from the bathroom indicating that B was having his shower.
Tyke was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes staring about curiously for any sign of their guest. Brian leant down and patted him softly on his bony head. “You be nice to B okay? He’s gonna be staying for a while.”
Tyke’s ears flattened against his head as he enjoyed the petting, but it was cut short as his master set off in the direction of the kitchen.
Brian opened the nearest cupboard and pulled out a tin of tomato soup. He wasn’t sure what B liked to eat, but everyone liked tomato soup and the heat would warm him up and do him some good. He poured the gooey contents into the bowl and bunged it in the microwave so it would be ready for when B was finished.
He sat down at the table and then leaned back in the chair, his back hurting after the long day… not that it hadn’t been good. B arriving was one of the best things that had happened since he returned from the future.
He remembered that last goodbye he had said to him and the pain that had hunted him for days after. It had been a constant, ripping sensation that pulled at his heart and made him cry almost every night for a month. It was so hard to let go and to believe that he would never see him again…
But now he was back. Brian just wished that the circumstance could have been better. There was definitely something not right in the way B acted and the tears that had covered the boy’s face had showed that.
“Dad?” B called from upstairs suddenly jerking Brian out of his thoughts.
“Down here,” Brian replied. “In the kitchen.”
A few moments later and B entered wearing his new clothes and looking a little healthier. His eyes were still red from tears and his face was a little pale, but he didn’t have the same walking dead look that had haunted him before.
“Hey, you look better now.”
B smiled faintly but said nothing as he sat down at the wooden table, his eyes staring into nothingness. He placed his hands on the smooth surface and ran his fingers lightly over the wood. “I don’t feel much better.”
Brian frowned. “Are you in pain? How’s the ankle?”
B shook his head and refused to look up, his eyes remaining fixed upon the table. “Ankle’s better,” he whispered finally.
Brian slid his chair across the floor to sit closer to B. He placed an arm around him and the boy leaned into his embrace, his head falling against his shoulder. “Do you wanna tell me what happened?”
“The Gerai,” B whispered softly.
“I thought we defeated them?”
“We all did, until they attacked us again.” He looked up at Brian. “It’s a real long story, but they’re after me again. Why won’t they leave me alone?”
Brian wrapped his arms tightly about B. “Don’t worry. You rest and tell me everything when you’re ready. I had a feeling there would be a long story behind this.”
“I had to get away, it was horrible. People were getting hurt because they kept coming after me and – and…”
“Sshhh,” Brian soothed. “Come on, it’s all right.”
“No it’s not!” B sobbed. “I ran away and I can’t get home!” He pulled away from Brian and then pulled a small, metal band from his wrist and placed it upon the table top.
Brian reached out and took the strange bracelet. There were several buttons upon it and a tiny, cracked screen. He recognised it, he’d worn one himself when he travelled to 2023. It was a time bracelet that one could use to remotely travel back and forth through time… but his had been illuminated with tiny glowing lights where as this one was dull and smashed.
“I broke it!” B wailed. “I fell over and broke it! How am I going to get home? Sammy doesn’t even know where I am!”
“Didn’t you tell him?”
B’s eyes were tearful again. “No. Him and the others are being so protective, but they don’t understand! Everyone got hurt and it was my fault! If I’m not there then the Gerai won’t come. I knew Sammy would try to stop me and then - ”
He was getting upset again and he was beginning to tremble. Brian wouldn’t get the full story while he was like this, but the broken time bracelet was a problem. How was B going to get home? As much as Brian loved him, B didn’t belong here.
“Don’t worry,” Brian whispered as he pulled B into his arms again. “I’m sure Sammy will work out where you are.”
B nodded slowly. “I think they can find out through the time machine.”
“Why didn’t you tell Sammy? B, he’ll be worried sick.”
“I left him a note to tell him not to worry.”
A note… that wouldn’t do much for Sammy. He would be going out of his mind… But he was smart and surely he could work it out? If the resistance had a time machine now then he should be able to guess that B might use it to come and see Brian. He sighed as he rocked B in his arms, wondering what to say to him. A part of him was angry at him worrying Sammy, and Sammy would certainly be worried, but how could he be angry when B was like this?
“I was going - ”
“B, don’t talk now hey? You can tell me tomorrow. You’re tired and I want you to eat something and then go to bed. Don’t worry, Sammy will find you.”
“Dad, I think - ”
“B, leave it for now,” Brian said. He gave him one last cuddle before he stood up and pressed a few buttons upon the microwave to finish heating the soup up. “I’ve got some soup for you here.”
“I’m not hungry,” B said miserably.
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You said yourself, Sammy can use the time machine to find you and then he’ll come and pick you up. Right now, you need to concentrate on getting better. Tell me everything you want in the morning, okay?”
B nodded slowly. “Okay… there’s a lot to tell.” He paused slightly as he rubbed his eyes. “I’m so glad I can see you again,” he whispered.
Brian reached out and pressed a hand against B’s face for a moment. “Me too. I missed you.”
There was a sudden beep from the microwave and Brian broke away from the embrace to retrieve the hot food from its mouth. He placed the steaming hot bowl in front of B and then handed him a spoon. “Eat up.”
B spooned up some of the soup and then tipped it back into the bowl. “I’m really not hungry. Can I just go to bed?” he asked weakly.
“There’s no compromise here. Just eat what you can.”
“It’s a funny colour,” B whispered as he spooned some more up.
“It’s tomato.”
B uncertainly swallowed as spoonful of the thick soup and savoured the taste for a moment. Brian knew from his time in 2023 that B wasn’t used to food like these. In his time they scavenged what they could and they didn’t have luxury foods or even much variety.
“Not bad,” he commented as he took a few more spoonfuls, obviously more impressed with this then he was with any of the foods he normally ate.
“I need to re - do your bandage when you’re done,” Brian said. “It’ll be wet after your shower.”
“It’s fine,” B replied, patting his shoulder. “The bruises on my legs don’t hurt anymore either.”
“What bruises?” Brian asked, immediately staring down at B’s legs even though they were covered in khaki pants.
“I told you, I fell over,” B said as he took another gulp of soup. “It’s not bad, my arm was the worst.”
“I think you better take it easy for a while. The ankle’s probably sprained. Maybe I could take you to a doctor.”
B shook his head. “Better not, I don’t want any questions raised.”
Brian sighed. B was right. Too many questions might be asked if he took B to the hospital or to the doctors. B had no idea or anything and Brian did not want any trouble to emerge. B could do without that.
He watched B as he gulped down more of the hot soup until the boy finally placed the spoon down and didn’t pick it up again. He stared down at the half full bowl of soup as if debating whether he could eat anymore, but he didn’t make a move to pick the spoon up again.
“You done?” Brian asked.
B nodded and yawned, his eyes drooping dangerously. Brian smiled slightly. “I think you really are ready for bed now.”
B nodded as his wish was finally granted. Slowly he stood up and Brian helped him to limp over towards the door. The stairs were a little harder for B to manage with his damaged ankle, but he refused to be carried up again wanting to show that there was some strength still left within him.
Eventually B was yawning as they reached the top of the stairs. Brian hesitated a moment before deciding to place B in his own room and in his own bed. He could an eye on him all night then in case anything happened.
B practically fell onto the bed as Brian led him into his room. He sighed at the softness and burrowed his head in one of the big, fat pillows.
“I’m just going to change your damp bandage while you lay here,” Brian said as B lay on his left arm.
“Can I go sleep while you’re doing it?” B murmured, already dozing off.
“Sure you can. Let me get the first aid kit and you get yourself warm under the covers.”
Brian retrieved the first aid kit from the landing and pulled out the bandages. When he returned to B, he had already snuggled down under the thick duvet. Brian gently pulled the duvet down a little and then pulled up B’s sleeve to remove the wet bandage, already a little red from the blood.
“Dad?” B whispered softly as he unrolled the bandages and began to bind his arm.
“Yeah?”
“You won’t ever hate me will you?”
What kind of a question was that? B was as dear to him as Sammy was! It didn’t matter what Sammy did, Brian still loved him… even when he had accidentally broken a window he had loved him. B was the same. “How could I ever do that?”
“Just promise.”
“I promise.” Brian kissed him on the head to emphasise the fact.
“I wish I knew what to do…” B said, so faint that Brian almost didn’t hear it.
Brian titled his head. “What do you mean? Do you do something wrong in your time?”
“I don’t think so,” B replied. For a moment he didn’t say anything. “I’m happy with you here.”
“Good night, B,” Brian said, giving him another kiss. “Get some sleep.” He patted his newly bandaged arm and then pulled the covers back over him.
“Night.”
Brian waited for a moment, content just to watch B as he drifted to sleep. This was one of the last moments he had seen B before, sleeping. He had gone to say goodbye and B had been asleep in blissful unawareness of the fact that Brian was going to leave him. He had been in tears when he found out, crying like a little boy. He was still a little boy, even though he was almost an adult. He’d been through so much… so much that he shouldn’t have been through and Brian hadn’t even been there to help him through it.
He returned to the bathroom and ran the hot water to prepare one last thing for B. He didn’t bother to undress himself for bed, but merely stayed in his pants and t-shirt. He slowly crawled into bed, careful not to disturb B who seemed to have already fallen asleep. Sighing he placed the hot water bottle between B’s arms for him to cuddle up to and kissed him on the head.
“I’m going to look after you now,” he promised.
* * * * *
B stayed perfectly still as he felt Brian slip into bed beside him. It was easy to see where Sammy’s sweet nature had come from; he was so similar to Brian in so many ways.
Sammy… B prayed that he wasn’t too worried. He had tried to explain his reasons for leaving in the note but he wasn’t sure if Sammy would understand. Of course, when he wrote that note he hadn’t been in the state he was in now… He hadn’t expected the attack…
“I’m going to look after you now,” he heard Brian whisper, followed by the light goodnight kiss on the head. He felt the warmth of the hot water bottle and he felt his arms already pulling it to his chest, desperate for any warmth after the coldness outside.
If only he could… Why had so many things changed? Why was everything so different and hard in his time? It was all easy here… and Brian was so caring. He didn’t want to go back home, even if they did come for him.
He shuddered as he cuddled down with the duvet on the fluffy pillows. He wasn’t sure if the hunter had followed him here. He had attacked him just before he used the time machine to escape and he would easily be able to track him. He wasn’t sure if he was safe even now with Brian lying beside him…