Translucent (Solangelo AU)

11. Hopelessly Pulverized

Will POV (crazy, I know)

My entire body thrummed with unkempt energy, red blood voyaging throughout my body and spreading unwanted heat in its departure. It flowed through me, I could feel it. I could feel it because it rendered me completely numb, destroying me in the process. There was no way to explain it, no way at all, but I didn't want the feeling to go away. It's what kept my heart pumping, I thought, what kept my brain handy and able as it sent commands to work every limb that formed me. But how could I still function when I was so destroyed, when every element of my being was fighting against one another, searching for a tactic of domination, of which traitorous compartment would conquer me and send me into utter chaos.

My bones screamed at me, my mother's voice yelling at me just as I remembered it, reminding me of everything I was doing wrong, of everything I would end up doing wrong. I wasn't sure where it came from; usually her torment remained dormant when I was away from her and father, there where they wouldn't find me and would have, therefore, no power over me.

I don't know if the events of last night might have triggered a sense of warning inside of me, an admonition of where I came from, making sure I wasn't ignorant to the risks I was evoking or the family I was betraying, because of a simple boy. It was foolish to assume we would make it out unscathed, so I assumed the worst.

It was a lesson I had always been reluctant to learn; the one where I had to forcefully break my own heart time and time again so that no one else could. I would have the property to my heart and no one else. If it was at my own hand, I would be able to come back from it. At someone else's hand, I was vulnerable and nude; penetrable. So my father taught me to be impenetrable, untouchable. I didn't know whether his lessons had paid off or not; there was never a reason to assume either.

I couldn't help but wonder, however, as I sat at the edge of Nico's borrowed bed, watching his chest slowly rise and fall as his steadied breathing filled the room, whether he'd be able to tear down my walls or not, no matter how strong my father had made them out to be. No matter how impenetrable they were. Since I was a child, I was taught what was right and what was wrong, but I soon realized that the answers were completely biased. Just because they thought something was wrong didn't mean that it had to be.

That was the first time I had heard about Nico. I would never tell him this, but it had made itself out to be a prominent part of my memory. Especially when they had taken him, tortured and locked him up, I couldn't stop thinking about it. About how I must have been around twelve years old, I hadn't spoken to the mysterious, raven-haired boy in a long while and had nearly forgotten about him. Then one night I had been listening in on one of my father's meetings, as I had made a habit of mine, and he was brought into my life anew. It was one of the longest meetings I'd listened in on, and they finally talked about him. They had dissected him inside-out, lain out everything they could find about him. It went on for weeks, study after study, making up for all the years I had wished they would mention him but never did. I had so many questions that I could never ask. I wished I had asked them. The study ended abruptly a couple days after, but I didn't forget him that time.

I had my father switch me to the general school instead of my prestigious one (it took a lot of convincing) so that I could become closer to Nico, but I hardly ever had classes with him and always found it hard to approach him whenever I'd spot him slipping through the clash of people in the halls. What would I say? Yes, hi, I'm Will and I don't think you remember me but my dad is a Scientist and might be out to get you. Let's be friends!