MK Ultra (Chapter Twelve/?)
Matt crept into the room, his footsteps a gentle padding against the carpet. It was completely silent, save for Dominic’s breathing, as quiet as a whisper in the oppressive darkness. He fell to his knees before the sleeping blonde lying on the sofa, his chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath he took, his lean body covered by his blanket. Matthew’s eyes fell on the golden hair, curling softly on the sofa cushion. He resisted the urge to reach out and run his fingers through the soft strands, dyed silver by the moon that had just been released from behind the heavy grey clouds.
I shouldn’t be here, he thought, before shaking his head to clear it of all distractions and allowing his eyes to fall back onto Dominic’s hair, where they lingered for a moment longer before sliding down to caress the blonde’s face. He watched as emotions flickered across his face; the little movements told Matthew that Dominic was dreaming of something. It was a nightmare, if Matthew was reading his face correctly. Guilt washed over him again, threatening to take him in its claws and consume him complete. He beat it down, mentally dodging its savage paws; feeling could wait. He just wanted - needed - to take in Dominic like this. He needed to see him in a peaceful state, to convince himself that the damage to his boy was not permanent. He didn’t know what he was trying to achieve through it. He knew that it would be permanent damage. He only had to look at himself and all the nights that he had lain awake, curled in a ball on his bed, the emotional pain translating into physical agony; the nights that tears had streamed down his face, relentlessly, not allowing him to sleep; the nights that thoughts had haunted him, even when he had drifted off into sleep, the rest offering no escape. From his own experience, he knew that he had damaged Dom. He had maimed him badly. There was a part of the blonde that he would not see for a long time, if ever again. The part of Matthew that loved preferred to stay hidden; he was sure that it would be the same for Dominic.
The thought sickened him and, even though he had decided that feeling was for later, he could not stop the tears from pricking his eyes and creeping down his cheeks when he didn’t make any move to brush them off. Tears were weak; he was weak. He’d done this to Dominic, beaten him to the ground, because of his own problems. Normal people didn’t do that. Normal people didn’t injure the people they loved irreparably. They may lash out sometimes, but they didn’t… didn’t do this. In Matthew’s eyes, his crimes were unforgivable.
Shifting on his knees slightly, he bowed his head, as if he were praying. In a way, he was; he was pleading for Dominic to forgive him, to allow him back into his mind, to love him. His mouth moved silently, barely breathing the words; his splintered heart inside his chest pricked at him, stabbing more deeply as he repeated the words ‘I’m so sorry, I love you, I’m sorry…’
He didn’t know how long he stayed there by Dominic’s side, holding a silent vigil over the sleeping boy. His knees had numbed long ago, yet he could not bring himself to move. The very least he could do to begin to pay back his debt to Dominic was to stay by his side; ironically, that was probably the last place that Dominic wanted him. The thought crippled Matthew. Had he, through Dominic, hurt himself? Beyond the feeling of pain one experiences when the person you love is hurting, he knew he had destroyed Dominic, and now that notion was destroying him. Karma, perhaps; irony: he had stabbed himself with the very same knife he had used to stab Dominic. The thought made his mouth twitch in the beginnings of a vicious smile; he may have hurt Dominic, but at least he had hurt himself too.
Should he let Dominic go? It was difficult. He wanted to keep the boy - his boy - by his side. Matthew loved him; did he have the mental strength to lose yet another person he loved, but live with the daily reminder that he was the reason for his boy’s pain? It was for that reason that Matthew had fought to keep new people out of his life after his family had thrown him out. There was the constant threat that he would lose them; he was terrified of it. Now, he might lose Dominic twice. The thought of letting him go… how was he supposed to do that? He had refused to let Dominic see his family, now he was thinking of allowing him his freedom, and he would never see the blonde again. Who in their right mind would return to Matthew after all of this? He did not know that Dominic thought that Matthew was all that he had left.
His tears slid faster down his face; they fell onto the cushion next to Dominic’s head, the salty drops remarking the patch that Dominic’s own tears had claimed. He reached out a shaking hand, extending his index finger and running it over Dominic’s cheek, down the bone and to his chin. He placed his hand over Dominic’s, not realising that grey eyes were fixated on his face.
‘I… I… I’m so sorry, Dominic. I want you to stay, but-’
He froze when he noticed Dominic’s eyes open and on him. His mouth flopped open and he yanked his hand back from where it was resting on top of the blonde’s like his skin had suddenly been burnt by the contact. Gasping for breath, feeling light-headed and dizzy from lack of oxygen, he pushed himself up on shaking limbs and, taking one last glance at Dominic, he strode out of the room, reminiscent of how he had mere hours ago; however, this time, he turned away from his bedroom, pulled his shoes on, grabbed his door keys and let himself out of the flat. He took a minute to lock the door; whether it was to keep Dominic in or other people out he wasn’t sure. While he was jamming the keys into the lock, he was pushing the destructive thoughts spinning around inside his head back their closet.
You’re running away again. Coward. Can’t face him. Can’t talk to him. Can’t even listen to how he feels. Coward.
As he locked the door of his flat, he locked the door in his mind, shutting out all the things he didn’t want to think about. He turned and jogged down the stairs, regretting not taking a coat as soon as he got outside. Shivering in the cold night air, goosebumps rising on his arms, he started to walk, not planning where he was going. He rubbed his hands over his arms, trying to generate some heat. Looking up to the sky, he saw stars and the moon, partially covered by the rain-heavy clouds. Looking down to the ground, he saw grass, sprinkled with the early beginnings of dew drops. A shudder ran down his spine as a breath of wind tickled the back of his neck. He realised that he’d stop walking; he hadn’t even left the patch of grass outside his building. He decided to walk to the park and back. It was far enough for a think, but not far enough that he’d lose the will to walk back.
How much had Dominic heard? He’d probably heard everything. He knew now that Matthew wanted him to stay, but did he know why? Matthew sighed, running a hand through his hair and allowing his fingers to tug at the small knots they caught. Why had he made things so complicated? Why couldn’t he just say how much he loved Dominic? He could admit it to himself; that was a start. The blonde was now his life; even if he didn’t love him, he had to admit that much. He had bought the boy. When someone bought an object, it belonged to them. He’d bought Dominic as an object, so he owned him. But Dominic was more than an object to him now. What did that mean for him and Dominic, now that he didn’t consider him an object anymore? How was he supposed to treat him? He couldn’t keep the boy; his blonde had rights now, just as much as he had rights. Matthew couldn’t believe it had taken him that long to realise that Dominic was his equal. Even now, he was having trouble accepting it and did not know how to act on it. He needed to go to someone for advice, but who was there to turn to? No one. He couldn’t ask Chris or Kelly or Tom because they didn’t know; they were the only people he had who he could turn to. For the first time in his life, he was truly alone.
The dark night seemed to engulf him, its gloomy air settling over him like a blanket. It clung to him, as Dominic clung to his blanket. It was the only bit of stability the shattered blonde had. Matthew shuddered; he had reduced the boy to clinging to a bit of fleece cut in the shape of a rectangle. An inanimate object, but Dominic could use it to shield himself from his life with Matthew. It was his constant, the only thing he could rely on in his broken life.
As he reached the park, he looked around. The sharp breeze was still stinging his limbs as he shook from the cold. It was unsurprisingly empty, but Matthew found it eerie; the park was usually filled with playing children and their happy parents, seeing it empty at night was strange. Looking around, he turned on his heel and started to walk briskly back to his flat, fooling himself with the excuse that he was cold.
You can’t face it; it brings back memories, doesn’t it?
The bright stars seemed to mock him, twinkling cheerily and burning their light onto his retinas. He snapped his eyelids firmly shut, reopening them when the toe of his trainer caught on the edge of a raised pavement slab. He stumbled slightly, but picked up his pace. He needed speed; the night was working its spell on him, making him feel vulnerable and lonely. Speed was also essential if he was going to talk to Dominic. He remembered the last time he had needed to talk to Dominic, using a phone call to Chris to distract himself from the imminent prospect of talking to him. This time, he couldn’t call Chris, so he decided to get home as soon as possibly, to prevent his mind from over-thinking and forcing himself to back out of what he knew needed to be done.
The rest of his journey passed in a flash. By the time he got back to his flat, he was out of breath from the sprint he had broken out into. His chest was heaving and he felt dizzy again. His body was flying into panic mode. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins, rushing to take over every cell in his body. His shaking fingers reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He slid the cold metal into the lock, turning it and shutting his eyes as the small click signalling the unlocking of the door sounded in the almost silent corridor. Pushing it open, he slipped inside through the smallest gap possible, shutting it again and locking it mindlessly; the door held out the thoughts that were threatening to destroy him and his chances of talking to Dominic and rescuing the boy from the utter heartbreak that Matthew had inflicted on him. He chucked his keys into their bowl on the table near the door, wincing at the resulting clang and Dominic’s small gasp of surprise. He toed his shoes off and drifted slowly down his hallway, lingering to look at the pictures hanging on the wall. In complete contrast to how he was before, he was stalling as much as he could. He took a deep breath. It was now or never. He stepped into the room.
‘Matthew, I-’
Dominic’s voice broke. He swallowed and took a couple of deep breaths.
‘Matthew… I- I love you.’
The brunette was stunned; he stood rooted to the spot, his body and mind refusing to cooperate with him. The blonde spoke again.
‘You said you wanted me to stay, but…?’
I shouldn’t be here, he thought, before shaking his head to clear it of all distractions and allowing his eyes to fall back onto Dominic’s hair, where they lingered for a moment longer before sliding down to caress the blonde’s face. He watched as emotions flickered across his face; the little movements told Matthew that Dominic was dreaming of something. It was a nightmare, if Matthew was reading his face correctly. Guilt washed over him again, threatening to take him in its claws and consume him complete. He beat it down, mentally dodging its savage paws; feeling could wait. He just wanted - needed - to take in Dominic like this. He needed to see him in a peaceful state, to convince himself that the damage to his boy was not permanent. He didn’t know what he was trying to achieve through it. He knew that it would be permanent damage. He only had to look at himself and all the nights that he had lain awake, curled in a ball on his bed, the emotional pain translating into physical agony; the nights that tears had streamed down his face, relentlessly, not allowing him to sleep; the nights that thoughts had haunted him, even when he had drifted off into sleep, the rest offering no escape. From his own experience, he knew that he had damaged Dom. He had maimed him badly. There was a part of the blonde that he would not see for a long time, if ever again. The part of Matthew that loved preferred to stay hidden; he was sure that it would be the same for Dominic.
The thought sickened him and, even though he had decided that feeling was for later, he could not stop the tears from pricking his eyes and creeping down his cheeks when he didn’t make any move to brush them off. Tears were weak; he was weak. He’d done this to Dominic, beaten him to the ground, because of his own problems. Normal people didn’t do that. Normal people didn’t injure the people they loved irreparably. They may lash out sometimes, but they didn’t… didn’t do this. In Matthew’s eyes, his crimes were unforgivable.
Shifting on his knees slightly, he bowed his head, as if he were praying. In a way, he was; he was pleading for Dominic to forgive him, to allow him back into his mind, to love him. His mouth moved silently, barely breathing the words; his splintered heart inside his chest pricked at him, stabbing more deeply as he repeated the words ‘I’m so sorry, I love you, I’m sorry…’
He didn’t know how long he stayed there by Dominic’s side, holding a silent vigil over the sleeping boy. His knees had numbed long ago, yet he could not bring himself to move. The very least he could do to begin to pay back his debt to Dominic was to stay by his side; ironically, that was probably the last place that Dominic wanted him. The thought crippled Matthew. Had he, through Dominic, hurt himself? Beyond the feeling of pain one experiences when the person you love is hurting, he knew he had destroyed Dominic, and now that notion was destroying him. Karma, perhaps; irony: he had stabbed himself with the very same knife he had used to stab Dominic. The thought made his mouth twitch in the beginnings of a vicious smile; he may have hurt Dominic, but at least he had hurt himself too.
Should he let Dominic go? It was difficult. He wanted to keep the boy - his boy - by his side. Matthew loved him; did he have the mental strength to lose yet another person he loved, but live with the daily reminder that he was the reason for his boy’s pain? It was for that reason that Matthew had fought to keep new people out of his life after his family had thrown him out. There was the constant threat that he would lose them; he was terrified of it. Now, he might lose Dominic twice. The thought of letting him go… how was he supposed to do that? He had refused to let Dominic see his family, now he was thinking of allowing him his freedom, and he would never see the blonde again. Who in their right mind would return to Matthew after all of this? He did not know that Dominic thought that Matthew was all that he had left.
His tears slid faster down his face; they fell onto the cushion next to Dominic’s head, the salty drops remarking the patch that Dominic’s own tears had claimed. He reached out a shaking hand, extending his index finger and running it over Dominic’s cheek, down the bone and to his chin. He placed his hand over Dominic’s, not realising that grey eyes were fixated on his face.
‘I… I… I’m so sorry, Dominic. I want you to stay, but-’
He froze when he noticed Dominic’s eyes open and on him. His mouth flopped open and he yanked his hand back from where it was resting on top of the blonde’s like his skin had suddenly been burnt by the contact. Gasping for breath, feeling light-headed and dizzy from lack of oxygen, he pushed himself up on shaking limbs and, taking one last glance at Dominic, he strode out of the room, reminiscent of how he had mere hours ago; however, this time, he turned away from his bedroom, pulled his shoes on, grabbed his door keys and let himself out of the flat. He took a minute to lock the door; whether it was to keep Dominic in or other people out he wasn’t sure. While he was jamming the keys into the lock, he was pushing the destructive thoughts spinning around inside his head back their closet.
You’re running away again. Coward. Can’t face him. Can’t talk to him. Can’t even listen to how he feels. Coward.
As he locked the door of his flat, he locked the door in his mind, shutting out all the things he didn’t want to think about. He turned and jogged down the stairs, regretting not taking a coat as soon as he got outside. Shivering in the cold night air, goosebumps rising on his arms, he started to walk, not planning where he was going. He rubbed his hands over his arms, trying to generate some heat. Looking up to the sky, he saw stars and the moon, partially covered by the rain-heavy clouds. Looking down to the ground, he saw grass, sprinkled with the early beginnings of dew drops. A shudder ran down his spine as a breath of wind tickled the back of his neck. He realised that he’d stop walking; he hadn’t even left the patch of grass outside his building. He decided to walk to the park and back. It was far enough for a think, but not far enough that he’d lose the will to walk back.
How much had Dominic heard? He’d probably heard everything. He knew now that Matthew wanted him to stay, but did he know why? Matthew sighed, running a hand through his hair and allowing his fingers to tug at the small knots they caught. Why had he made things so complicated? Why couldn’t he just say how much he loved Dominic? He could admit it to himself; that was a start. The blonde was now his life; even if he didn’t love him, he had to admit that much. He had bought the boy. When someone bought an object, it belonged to them. He’d bought Dominic as an object, so he owned him. But Dominic was more than an object to him now. What did that mean for him and Dominic, now that he didn’t consider him an object anymore? How was he supposed to treat him? He couldn’t keep the boy; his blonde had rights now, just as much as he had rights. Matthew couldn’t believe it had taken him that long to realise that Dominic was his equal. Even now, he was having trouble accepting it and did not know how to act on it. He needed to go to someone for advice, but who was there to turn to? No one. He couldn’t ask Chris or Kelly or Tom because they didn’t know; they were the only people he had who he could turn to. For the first time in his life, he was truly alone.
The dark night seemed to engulf him, its gloomy air settling over him like a blanket. It clung to him, as Dominic clung to his blanket. It was the only bit of stability the shattered blonde had. Matthew shuddered; he had reduced the boy to clinging to a bit of fleece cut in the shape of a rectangle. An inanimate object, but Dominic could use it to shield himself from his life with Matthew. It was his constant, the only thing he could rely on in his broken life.
As he reached the park, he looked around. The sharp breeze was still stinging his limbs as he shook from the cold. It was unsurprisingly empty, but Matthew found it eerie; the park was usually filled with playing children and their happy parents, seeing it empty at night was strange. Looking around, he turned on his heel and started to walk briskly back to his flat, fooling himself with the excuse that he was cold.
You can’t face it; it brings back memories, doesn’t it?
The bright stars seemed to mock him, twinkling cheerily and burning their light onto his retinas. He snapped his eyelids firmly shut, reopening them when the toe of his trainer caught on the edge of a raised pavement slab. He stumbled slightly, but picked up his pace. He needed speed; the night was working its spell on him, making him feel vulnerable and lonely. Speed was also essential if he was going to talk to Dominic. He remembered the last time he had needed to talk to Dominic, using a phone call to Chris to distract himself from the imminent prospect of talking to him. This time, he couldn’t call Chris, so he decided to get home as soon as possibly, to prevent his mind from over-thinking and forcing himself to back out of what he knew needed to be done.
The rest of his journey passed in a flash. By the time he got back to his flat, he was out of breath from the sprint he had broken out into. His chest was heaving and he felt dizzy again. His body was flying into panic mode. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins, rushing to take over every cell in his body. His shaking fingers reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He slid the cold metal into the lock, turning it and shutting his eyes as the small click signalling the unlocking of the door sounded in the almost silent corridor. Pushing it open, he slipped inside through the smallest gap possible, shutting it again and locking it mindlessly; the door held out the thoughts that were threatening to destroy him and his chances of talking to Dominic and rescuing the boy from the utter heartbreak that Matthew had inflicted on him. He chucked his keys into their bowl on the table near the door, wincing at the resulting clang and Dominic’s small gasp of surprise. He toed his shoes off and drifted slowly down his hallway, lingering to look at the pictures hanging on the wall. In complete contrast to how he was before, he was stalling as much as he could. He took a deep breath. It was now or never. He stepped into the room.
‘Matthew, I-’
Dominic’s voice broke. He swallowed and took a couple of deep breaths.
‘Matthew… I- I love you.’
The brunette was stunned; he stood rooted to the spot, his body and mind refusing to cooperate with him. The blonde spoke again.
‘You said you wanted me to stay, but…?’