Simple//Tradley:Jonnor

A sleepless night

Tristan couldn't sleep; his thoughts were haunting him. Usually he had no problem sleeping, as it was one of his favourite things to do in the whole wide world, but that night he just couldn't seem to fall into its clutches. He looked to the side and squinted into the darkness at Brad, who was sound asleep, lying on his back with his arms down by his sides like he was every night. The blonde guessed that the other boy wasn't awake and sighed, looking back up to the ceiling and letting his mind wonder.

There was just so much to think about, and yet he couldn't seem to be able to let himself think about everything. It's like his brain was a computer, and all the thoughts were programs, and he made the computer freeze by trying to load too many programs at once. Unfortunately, Tristan didn't have the luxury of being able to sort his thoughts through one at a time.

He wanted to think about Brad, or drumming, or maybe even what his family were doing now he wasn't home, but instead his thoughts wondered to James. Of course, the blonde had no problem with the other boy - they were good friends and he could mostly always go to James for help. No, his problem was with himself, and what he'd done to the boy almost four months before. He wasn't proud of what he did, hell, he couldn't even remember doing it, all he could remember was that he was shouting and someone was shouting back at him. The thought of not being able to control himself when he got angry scared him, and although he still liked to believe that he was getting better, he worried that he would do it again. After all, there wasn't much to stop him. The thought consumed him like the plague.

Meanwhile, James was awake and staring at the ceiling, too. He was also thinking about what had happened that day, but James could remember it as if it happened five minutes before.
The shouting. The pain. The fear.
He hated the fact that he flinched around Tristan whenever he came close, but James simply couldn't help it; deep down, he was still terrified of Tristan, and the memory of that day flowed through his brain every time he saw the tall blonde. He loved Tristan like a brother; he was the first person who actually bothered to talk to James when he arrived, and Tristan was such a nice person when he wasn't angry. But he was angry more often than not as of late, at least before he got so wrapped up in forcing Brad to get emotional. Maybe Tristan should beat Brad up too, force him to feel the emotions James felt that day, force him to scream a lamentable prayer of 'STOP TRISTAN! PLEASE STOP!' Then Brad would know how it felt, and he'd share James' fear.
The boy smiled slightly, then gasped in horror and let out a sob as he realised what he was thinking. How could he be so sadistic? He would never wish pain on anyone, nobody should go through what he'd gone through.
But he'd just been wishing that pain on Brad, and the brunette had done nothing to deserve it. It wasn't his fault that he couldn't feel any emotions, something bad had clearly happened to him to make him the way he was. More tears came to James' eyes and he let out a few more sobs, wondering how he'd managed to think something so monstrous. What was wrong with him?

James curled into a ball as he sobbed, tucking his head into his chest. He was tired as it was really late, and he was fairly delirious from the lack of sleep, but he couldn't help but worry that he was turning into a horrible person, the person Tristan became that day when he was angry.

He could remember going to find the boy to ask why he wasn't at dinner, and finding Tristan in his room, sat on his bed with his back to the door. He gave no reaction when the older boy had walked into the room, as if he didn't even hear him. James had walked up to the younger boy and asked what was wrong, prompting the blonde to stand and face him.
Fear engulfed James as he took in Tristan's clenched fists, his shaking arms and his tight jaw. His eyes held hatred and anger, his expression cold and disgusted, almost as if James had just killed the person he loved the most in the world right in front of his eyes. "Tristan?" James had whispered, too scared to use his voice properly. The taller boy didn't reply, but advanced towards him. The sandy-haired boy started backing towards the door, but Tristan stepped forward again, following him.
James knew he had to get out, or the blonde would unleash hell onto him, but he tripped and fell onto the ground. "I'm sorry" he'd whimpered, apologising for no reason other than he felt the need to do so "I'm sorry Tris, I'm sorry, please don't-" he had begged, but James didn't have time to finish his sentence before the first punch had landed on his pale skin.