Children of The Fallen

Chapter 37: truth

Victoria Brooks

I put myself in solely in charge of Pierce. I didn't want anyone else touching him or around him, I didn't want to risk making him feel at all uncomfortable. He's in a fragile state and is already skittish I didn't want to make that worse in any way.

I bathed him, went out and bought him clothes, I even trimmed his beard and cut his hair. I'm not a barber by any means but I watched a tutorial and it doesn't look that bad. I gave him a sort of buzzcut and it's a little longer on the top, I'm actually kind of impressed with myself.

I've been running myself rampant these past three weeks. Between helping Pierce and training Morgan I haven't had a moment to breathe. Any moment I do have to myself I spend with tears streaming down my face while my mind actively tries to tear me apart with flashes of Morgans eyes as she looks at me with disgust and hatred, fitting for the role of a traitorous bitch. Worse, the look in her eyes after doing anything that goes against her morals- human morals. I'm breaking her.

I'm going hard on her, I have to with Jacob wandering around or staring at her. I've let up with the forced killing, going from only killing one person in the heat of a fight to a serial killer is too big of a jump. So I've been focusing on other stuff with her as of late- ins and outs of ruling over a territory, fighting, general responsibilities, etc.

Every day without fail once we finish, she goes back to her room she cries as quietly as she can but as if I'm trying to torture myself I focus in and listen to her low sobs. I've never felt like a worse person when I see her the next day and have to break her some more. She keeps asking me why and not having the ability to explain myself at the moment is killing me. I can't. Not with Jacob around, not yet.

Pierce has been having these intense nightmares he wakes up screaming from. He has these instances of visible dissociation, he'll look down at his hands or in the mirror with a glimmer of confusion and I don't know what to do. I think part of him is still waiting to wake up back in that dark coffin underground so I keep doing everything in my power to try and convince him that this is all real.

Tonight, Pierce storms down the hall entering an extra guest bedroom. "Pierce!" I call out rushing after him. I open the door to the bedroom he walked into. "Pierce. Come back to bed."

"No." He says adjusting the pillows in this rooms bed. With his back turned to me I see the line of sweat down his back.

"I can't be killed it's fine." I assure him. He turns around to me with glassy eyes and sweat drenched hair. I brushed my hair out of the way allowing my neck to be on full display for him. "Look. No bruises, no nothing. It's not a big deal."

"It is. I never want to be responsible for harming you."

"I'm fine and it's not your fault." I walk over to him.

"Were my hands not around your throat?" He lifts his trembling hands to me.

I intertwine my fingers with his, holding his hands. "You didn't mean it."

"I'm either waking up screaming or waking up and now hurting you." His voice cracks. "You should not have to deal with that."

"I want to. I want to be here for you, with you. You shouldn't have to wake up alone, not anymore."

"You have no idea how much I appreciate that but I don't want to hurt you in any way. Until I'm... fixed- at least with sleeping. I'm going to sleep in here." He sits down on the bed. "Alone."

The word alone felt like a blow to my stomach but I nod. Understanding where he's coming from and not wanting to push him. "Okay. I'm right down the hall if you need anything."