Chapter Two

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Trigger Warnings: Abuse

The burning feeling in Thomas' long legs grew as the large building got closer. The closer it got, the faster Thomas' pace was as he ran. His breathing was uneven and choppy, his eyes glued to the dorm building.

More and more people turned their attention to him, wondering why the hell the curly-haired boy was running at about 70 miles per hour.

"Yo, TJeff, where the hell are you going?" Someone screamed, only to be completely ignored.

As he reached the big wooden doors of the dorm building he ripped them open, barely avoiding getting it by them as he dashed in, almost knocking a girl down who was in his way. The little bit of conscience Thomas had in that moment made him turn back, only for a second to see if the girl was still on her feet.

Thomas weighed his options, the stairs would be a lot more work, James was on the third floor. The elevator however, would take time, something Thomas wasn't willing to waste.

One.

Two.

Three.

He counted every single step, trying his best to avoid tripping as he vaulted himself up the flights of stairs.

A door with the number 3 came into view and Thomas felt the weight in his chest get lighter and lighter. He navigated the hallways, crashing into the door he knew very well to be James, forgetting to actually open the door.

"James!" Thomas screamed, seeing the mass of blankets on James' bed, James himself probably hiding under them. "Jemmy?" Thomas walked over, sitting on the edge of James' bed.

"What?" The question was muffled by all of the blankets.

"Will you talk to me?" Thomas slightly tugged at the blankets, only to have them pulled away from his hand.

"Nope."

"Well, that's to bad," Thomas yanked the blanket off, revealing James curled up, his head buried in a pillow. He groaned, pulling his legs closer to his small frame. "James," Thomas' tone was serious. "Look at me."

"No," James said blatantly, his voice still muffled by the pillow.

"Why not?" Seeing James like this made Thomas upset, and James got his heart broken quite frequently.

"Just leave me alone Thomas."

Thomas definitely wasn't going to take that for an answer. He grabbed James by both of his arms, pulling him up to get a good look at his face.

Thomas' hand immediately shot up to cover his mouth, his eyes widening at what he saw.

"James!" Thomas shrieked, grabbing the sides of James' face, trying to get a clear view of the purple bruises that covered the boy's dark skin.

"It's not a big deal Thomas," James pulled his face away, pulling his knees to his chest. "He only hit me like once. And besides, it's over anyways," James fiddled with the cuffs of his sweater, trying his hardest to ignore the lump in his throat.

"Once?! James your face is covered in bruises," Thomas was furious, and hell, that was an understatement. "Did he hit you anywhere else?"

"No," James mumbled, though Thomas knew there was no way he was telling the truth. Thomas pulled James' sweater over his head, after much protest.

Thomas almost wanted to cry seeing James' small frame littered with bruises, big ones too. Some even looked as if they were the result of James being kicked.

"What's his name?" Thomas growled, refusing to give the sweater back to James.

"J-James Reynolds..." James looked down, avoiding Thomas' eyes.

"Fucking James Reynolds?! That douchebag Maria dated before she started dating Eliza?!" Thomas knit his eyebrows, trying not to scream at James, who knew that Reynolds had a history of violence.

James nodded, sitting on the floor, feeling himself start to cry.

"I'm going to kill him," Thomas said, his hands involuntarily curling into fists, only making Thomas flinch. He had forgotten about his bloodied hand. "Shit."

"Thomas oh my god what did you do to your hand?!" James shot up, grabbing Thomas' arm.

"I may have punched a door. It's not important," Thomas shrugged it off.

"Come on," James wiped his tears and yanked his sweater away from Thomas, pulling it over himself, before dragging Thomas out of the room. "Now we have to go to the hospital to get your broken hand fixed."

"But Reynolds-"

"Not important right now," Thomas sighed, letting James pull him along. "We need to get your hand fixed."

"Fine, but I'm still going to kill him." James rolled his eyes.

"Okay Thomas."

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