Banned Pt. 03

Hello! I hope you enjoy Part 3 of Banned. Part 4 will be the end and is almost finished.

The characters of this story feel very real to me, and as such the story almost writes itself.

Please be warned, this chapter is quite dark. I considered changing it, but then I felt lost as the story didnt seem real to me anymore.

Trigger warnings for homophobia, and physical abuse.

***

Daniel

Daniel felt tears streaming down his face as he ran. Luke. Luke. Luke.

He had left him. He had been taken, had sacrificed himself so that Daniel could escape. He had told him he loved him.

He ran, like he had run so many times before. He had run when Luke had first confronted him. He had run when he felt abandoned at school. He had even ran when leading Luke to the meadow. His whole life, he had felt like he was running from this moment. He was discovered, his secret was finally out.

He glanced behind him as he ran, but Luke was no longer in sight. His heart felt like it was ripping into pieces, as tears were ripped from his eyes as he ran, his breaths gasping sobs. He weaved off the paths, aiming for the woods. Not that he knew what he would do once he got there, with no food, no water, nothing to help him survive in the wilderness.

He reached a road, glancing around before running across, the tips of the woodland trees peeking over houses in the distance. He had to get away, he had to make Luke's sacrifice count. He had to-

"He's there! Stop!"

"No," he groaned, running as fast as he could at the sound of shouts. He thought he might just make it, he thought that maybe he could out run them. That was until he saw the police car turn the corner, and drive towards him.

He skidded to a stop, officers behind him, the car rapidly closing in ahead.

He searched around frantically, but there was no escape. People emerged from their houses around him, whispering and watching with wide eyes. But of course no one helped, they were mere observers to his crimes.

It was truly useless. He was caught. All Luke's sacrifice had given him were a few more minutes of freedom. He raised his hands in surrender, feeling the tears rolling freely down his face.

As the officers approached him from behind, they yanked his hands roughly into cuffs behind his back, forcing him to the ground. He looked up to see more people gathering, some faces he knew from church or from school. He hung his head, letting his hair form a curtain in front on his face, a shield from their glares.

An officer was reading his rights, but he couldn't hear them. It was like being underwater, his hearing muffled, likely by shock. He could feel wet tears on his face, and his whole body seemed to shake violently but couldn't remember when exactly he had started.

As he was guided into the back of a police car, he found himself wishing he could see his father in the crowd, wished he could say he was sorry, say goodbye. He wished he could hold Luke, just one more time.

He imagined his face, the way his eyes would sparkle, his hair lit by the sun in the meadow, his mouth lifting into a smile as he held his face, gazing at him with what he now knew for certain was love.

Then the car door slammed and the illusion was shattered.

***

Luke

He awoke slowly, his head pounding so loudly that it took him a few moments to recall what had happened before he blacked out.

Slowly his memories returned, and he sat up, blinking rapidly, looking around the unfamiliar room.

It was sort of like a hospital, but more private and luxurious. There were very little items, only a plastic cup of what looked like water by his bed, and a small paperback bible.

Other than the bed, there was a small desk and chair, and a window with metal grating in front of it. The rest of the room was painted a bare blank white, with an open door that seemed to lead to a small bathroom.

He wondered if this was prison, and yet, it seemed too nice to be prison. And he felt like he should have woken up at some point earlier than just being thrown in prison. Something about the place felt... wrong.

He got out of bed slowly, looked down at the grey tracksuit he was wearing. He felt weak, really weak. He looked down at his trembling fingers and wondered how long it had been since he'd last eaten.

He moved to the door, turning the handle, but as expected it was locked. Turning, he looked back at the room, catching sight of a camera in the top right corner. He got chills just looking at it.

He sat back down on the bed, and hugged his knees to his chest. He thought about Danny, his anguished face in those last moments. He hoped he had got away, perhaps even now he was in the meadow. Safe.

He wondered if people knew yet, had the whispers and gossip spread around the town? He thought of how his father would feel about that. An angry pleasure rose at that.

As if sensing his thoughts, there was a rattle in the door and it opened slowly. In walked a man he did not recognise. He was wearing a shirt and tie, and gave him an overly warm smile. Behind him, there came a scowling guard, and finally...

"You," he spat, glaring at his father. "What have you done? Where am I?"

"Once again my boy, your ungratefulness astounds me," he said lazily as he strolled into the room, his arms crossed in a bored manner.

Luke stood, fists clenched, ready to punch that smug smile right off his face. The guard stepped forward.

"Easy now, kid. Why don't we sit back down," he said in a low voice, his hand resting on what looked like a taser at his belt. Luke swallowed, looking from the guard to his father. He sat.

The man in the tie moved to the desk chair, flipping it around and sitting down in a friendly demeanour. He had wide black framed glasses, and his eyes behind them seemed to be kind. Or at least he wanted him to think that.

"Luke, my name is Dr Rowan. I understand that you must be quite confused. You are at a special clinic that is going to help you, you're not in danger here."

He frowned, "what do you mean you'll help me?"

He looked from the doctor, to his father and began to cotton on, laughing bitterly.

"So that's your plan?" He said sarcastically, "pray the gay away?"

"Praying is only one part of the treatment, there are plenty more... physical methods if we chose to go that route," his father smiled darkly.

"Yes well, I don't personally partake in those treatments," the doctor said giving his father an irritated look. "We're going to focus on therapy, and cleansing first. Then if you are still unhappy with your treatment then my colleague will.. handle things further. Our first session is this afternoon, I just wanted to introduce myself before hand. If you need anything, please feel free to call a nurse using this."

He placed a small plastic device on the table with a large orange button.

"I'm looking forward to working with you Luke," he smiled and Luke found himself feeling sorry for this doctor despite everything. He genuinely seemed like he wanted to help. Pity it wouldn't work.

A few minutes later, the doctor said a polite farewell and left, and leaving him with his father. His father sat on the vacant chair, watching him with his cruel dark eyes.

"You may stand outside," he said to the guard, who nodded and stood by the open door.

"Is that wise? I might attack you," Luke said with ill disguised disgust.

His father laughed, "You could try, but it'll only worsen your punishment."

"I thought this was meant to be treatment," Luke scoffed and his father smiled cruelly.

"Of course," he said with a nod. "Let's hope you come to your senses swiftly."

"Where's Danny? Did he escape?" He asked and his father's smile fell, forming a sneer.

"Like I'd tell you. I intend to make sure you never see that boy again."

Luke's hands curled into fists and his father laughed, "tut tut Luke, do we have to skip to the more... creative punishments so soon? You know I've been reading about the way they used to treat homosexuals throughout history, there really were some wonderfully delightful treatments I can't wait to see in practice."

"You love this don't you?" Luke hissed, "you've always wanted to find a way to make me obey you. You've found a way to officially sanction torture!"

"I must admit, I hadn't planned it this way, but I can't deny there are some benefits. You will be staying here until you are ready to be the loyal and grateful son I deserve."

"Never," he spat and his father smiled darkly.

"Then enjoy your... long and fruitful stay here," he stood walking from the door, his face that happiest Luke had ever seen it. It made him feel sick to know the pleasure he was getting from this.

He looked up at the cross above the door, touching his forehead softly as he began signing the cross.

"God bless our new world."

***

Daniel

It had been a long week since his arrest. He had been taken first to the nearest police station. There they had questioned him for what must have been hours. They went round and round in circles, trying to pin point exactly what had happened between himself and Luke. After a while, he lost the energy to lie anymore and confessed. He repeatedly disclosed their kisses, but did not tell them about having sex. He knew that would only make things worse and hoped that at the very least, it would keep Luke safe. Or safer anyway.

"Did anyone know about your actions?" The officer asked sternly, barely hiding the revulsion in his expression. He thought about his father, his face when he had told him he loved him, the despair and fear. His stomach clenched, and he wondered if he had yet been told. Did he know that his son was under arrest? How would he react? He had a fierce temper, would throw and shout and break things, Daniel knew that first hand. But sometimes, when he at his angriest, that's when he did nothing but stand in blistering silence. The rage turned inwards.

"No," he said shaking his head. "No, we kept it secret."

Once the questioning was done he was stripped, and given prison clothes that he pulled on with shaky hands.

He was informed that he was to go to prison and await his trial. There was bail, but the sum was so high that Daniel's eyes watered. He knew with a heavy heart it was not ever going to be an option. Tens of thousands. Where would he ever get that money? Where would anyone he knew get that sort of money?

He was handcuffed and transferred to a prison. Thankfully, it was fairly small and he had his own cell.

He spent most of his time those first few days asking around for Luke. There had been some desperate hope in him that he might be here, but when he got met by stones faces and shrugs, he eventually gave up.

Luke wasn't here.

After that, he kept himself to himself, only mixing with others at mealtimes. One lunchtime, he was awoken from his silent thoughts by the loud clatter of a tray.

A young man, maybe five or six years older than himself, had sat across from him with his lunch. He was short and muscular, with dark hair and tanned skin. Tattoos rippled up his arms and neck and he eyed him curiously with intimidating grey eyes.

"I'm Mac, what's your name?" He asked gruffly and Daniel swallowed nervously.

"Daniel," he replied.

Mac nodded, taking a bite of his apple and crunching it noisily, "what you in for Dan?"

"Err," he stuttered, looking down at his tray of food awkwardly.

"It's cool, we've all made mistakes here. I'm in for petty theft," he shrugged before chuckling, "as long as you're not a fag."

Daniel froze for a second too long and Mac instantly sat up, "you are, aren't you? You a gay boy?"

"No, I- it's complicated-" he protested but Mac just laughed cruelly, getting to his feet and drawing attention from nearby tables.

"Yo!" He said, looking at Daniel with an amused disgust, "this kids a fucking gay!"

Other men turned to look at him, expressions a mixture of surprise, disgust, anger and most alarmingly, interest. Daniel wanted to crawl under the table from all the staring, his face burning red as he tried to eat his food, ignoring the attention.

"Why don't they put all the gays in together, I don't want them looking at me and getting a hard on," a nearby man sneered.

"What like some big orgy?! They'd fucking love that! Hardly a punishment," his neighbour scoffed.

Mac joined their table, continuing to talk with fervent disgust. Daniel let the words blur, shrinking into himself so that the words just washed over him.

Suddenly his food was whipped from in front of him and scattered across the floor. Jeers and laughter sounded.

Silently, with shaking fingers Daniel crouched down, picking up the remnants of his food, ignoring the continued guffawing from the table closest to him.

With burning eyes, he took what had been his lunch to a bin, before walking slowly from the canteen.

He felt cut off from his body as he returned to his cell, as if watching from afar, somewhere deep down buried in his own grief and pain.

He lay down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling all the emotions wash over him. He felt like he could drown in them. Fear for his present, fear for his future. But worst of all, he didn't know how he knew, but he had a terrible feeling in his gut that Luke was in trouble, that he was out there hurting. Equally alone. The fear of it was like a knife inside himself, twisting with each aching breath.

After the encounter with Mac, he made sure to keep a wide berth from everyone. He had had many years practicing at being a loner, so it wasn't hard to slip into old routines.

But it felt different than it had before. Before, he had been keeping a secret from the world, isolating himself to ensure his secret was kept safe. Now his secret was out for the world to see, and he was shunned for it. And of course there was the ache of missing Luke, the constant worry plaguing his mind every second he spent in silent thought.

At the end of the second week in the prison, he was told he had a visitor. His heart skipped a beat as he desperately hoped it was Luke, even though he knew that was impossible.

He was lead down corridor after corridor, and eventually into a room with a metal table and chairs. In one of the chairs sat his Dad. His black wild hair, so like Daniel's own, was particularly discheved, and his eyes looked tired as he gazed at his interlocked fingers.

As Daniel entered the room, his eyes lifted and he gave him a sad smile.

"Hey kid," he said, lifting his arms like he wanted to give him a hug.

Daniel's eyes instantly teared up, at the sight of a friendly face.

"Dad?" He said, his voice hoarse and weak, "You came."

He sat down in the chair across from him shakily, feeling the cool metal of the table under his arms, the handcuffs heavy on his slim wrists.

"I'm sorry it wasn't sooner kiddo, I wasn't allowed before two weeks."

"Oh," he replied, suddenly aware that he didn't seem to know how to hold a conversation anymore. He blinked slowly and he saw his Dad's face furrow in concern.

"How are you doing?" He asked and Daniel shrugged.

"Okay, you?"

"I'm doing okay too," he replied gruffly. Silence fell, and Daniel looked slowly around the room. The blue and grey tiled walls were chipped slightly in places, the grouting needed a clean. There was a window near the top of the room, propped slightly open, but not wide enough to fit more than a hand through. There was a hint of blue sky beyond.

He sniffed and turned back to his Dad who was watching him with a concerned and sad expression.

"Do you," he asked hesitantly, "do you know anything about Luke? I've looked everywhere and he isn't here."

"No," his father sighed, seemingly relieved to have something to talk about, "I knew you'd ask, so I tried to find out but... I don't know where he is, no one does. His whole family upped and disappeared the day after... well after everything. I'd imagine with their money he will be at some private facility or something, or maybe he's been let off entirely."

Daniel frowned. He hadn't thought that Luke might be freely walking around somewhere. What if he was? Had moved away and was starting somewhere afresh without him? He wouldn't do that would he? No. He loved him, he told him that. But then if he wasn't free, where was he? That sick knot in his stomach returned. He wasn't free, he knew it, he could feel it. He needed him, and he was alone.

He blocked out the painful thoughts and focused on his father, "When can I come home?"

His Dad sighed, "I don't know kid, I really don't know."

*TWO MONTHS LATER*

Clara

Clara sat in the waiting room of the clinic beside her mother, trying to calm her rapid heart. She had waited desperately for months to see her brother, had asked her father repeatedly, only to be told no everytime.

One time he had even slapped her.

"How dare you talk to me like that!" He had roared as she cried, clutching her face with trembling fingers.

Guilt writhed in her stomach day after day that Luke was gone. She didn't know what they were doing to him, but from her father's twisted smile each time he returned from his visits, she knew it wasn't good.

She had betrayed him. Her twin brother. Luke. Her favourite person in the world. She had betrayed him.

She thought back on all the happiest moments of her life, and every one of them was with Luke. His infectious cheerfulness was what kept her from going insane. And now he was gone. Would he ever forgive her?

She closed her eyes in the waiting room, feeling the hot burn of her tears. She shook her head. This was not the time for tears. She had to be strong, for Luke.

He'd hate her. She knew that. He probably thought she'd told their parents. The fact that he might think that low of her made her feel sick.

She remembered that night vividly. His confession, his eyes wide and pleading with her to understand. Her shock, muting her.

Luke was gay. How had she never realised? Never noticed? And what would this mean for his life going forward? For both of their lives. In the eyes of their Lord and law, he was a criminal, some sick perversion. She had never really thought these laws would affect her, and now here she was standing face to face with it. She felt like a fool. Was she supposed to stop loving her brother, just like that? How could something so simple as who you love be worthy of a jail sentence? Or worse.

Her thoughts and fears had been so loud in that moment that she had said nothing. She hadn't comforted him, she hadn't done anything to show him that she still loved him. That this changed nothing. Why hadn't she done anything?!

No, she had. She had logged onto her phone, and onto her Diary app. Her diary, where she had poured her every thought and feeling

since she was a young teenager. Her love interests, her hopes, her dreams, her fears, everything. She had never questioned her secret place before, and she didn't now. She typed out her brother's deepest secret, she wrote about her heartache, her pain, like the selfish sister she was.

She hadn't even thought for a moment, that perhaps her phone was not as safe as she thought. She had no idea, until later that her father had always had access to her diary. Had read her secret thoughts for years, without a care for her privacy.

She had no idea that he would read each terrible word she typed, and pounce on them like a waiting lion.

She had betrayed him. This was all her fault.

"Mrs and Ms Weston?" Said a young man, with a clipboard and a sharp lined face.

"Yes," her mother said, standing.

"Come this way please."

They followed him down the corridor to a metal door.

Her father stood outside, and as they approached he shook his head at her mother.

"No, Joanne. You go back to the waiting room now."

"But-" she tried to argue.

"You'll see Luke later," father insisted. "This is just for Clara and me."

Her mother nodded once, her eyes wide, and strode back down the corridor. She had always obeyed him. Clara had once thought it was blind love, but had more recently learned that her mother feared her father almost as much as she loved him. She wondered how far her loyalty to him would go. She had watched him slap her with barely a flinch. Where was her line in the sand?

Clara looked from her mother's retreating back to her father's dark smile and shuddered. This look meant something. And she didn't like it one bit.

"What's going on?" she whispered.

He put an arm round her shoulder, a gesture he had not done in a long time, if ever, guiding her through the doorway.

"I thought you should see, since you were so desperate, what keeping secrets from me does Clara."

He pushed open the door and she saw the room. A room that would haunt her nightmares for a long time to come. It was Luke. Luke, barely recognisable as the brother she knew.

He was thin and pale, wearing a hospital nightgown that barely covered his unnervingly thin limbs. There were restraints at his wrists and ankles and wires attached to pads on his chest, his forearms, his temples, all leading to an ominous looking machine beside him. His once beautiful blonde hair had been shaven brutally short, and his eyes. Those eyes she knew and loved so well, were glassy, and unseeing. Sweat plastered his face, beading down his forehead and chest as he heaved heavy exhausted breaths.

As she watched, a doctor pressed a button on the device and his face contorted in pain, biting down on a leather strap as he was tortured by shocks that made his whole body spasm.

She ran to the glass, pressing her hands against it, desperate to look away, but unable to.

"Stop!" She cried, "you're hurting him! Please!"

"It's a trial treatment, shock therapy. Was quite popular in the 1950's," her father mused. "It's quite useful to have a subject to test these new practices on I must say. A silver lining I hadn't foreseen in all this mess."

In the room beyond the glass, the doctor stopped the shocks and Luke collapsed back into the chair, sweat beading his forehead and chest, as he panted. He was clearly exhausted, and hurting. Tears began streaming down her face again as she gazed at him, feeling the agony of her twin through every bone in her body, as if she was the one receiving the shocks.

She tore her eyes away from Luke, to her father in dismay, "You're torturing him for your own amusement, you evil, sick bastard!"

Her father looked to her coolly, "I'll let that slide for now because I know you're emotional. You women and your emotions," he chuckled almost to himself. "But this is for Luke's own good. And you needed to see it too."

He began approaching her, tall and menacing, "You both need to learn that I am in charge of the house, not either of you. Soon you will finish your schooling, and it'll be time for me to find a suitable suitor for you to be paired with. You will be a wife, and a mother, and you will stop this nonsense. You will behave. Do you hear me?"

She was pressed against the glass, cringing away from him. She looked from her father and back to Luke who was panting, his eyes barely open as they released him from the restraints.

"Or," her father softly said into her ear, "maybe we can try shock therapy on insolent little brats who don't know their place, next."

She felt the sick horror as she stumbled back from him, eyes wide. Her father had always been strict, even cruel at times, but she had never quite realised the monster that lurked beneath. She stared at him feeling repulsion course through her. He seemed to enjoy the look, glancing at Luke through the glass.

"Come on, let's go see your brother. Fetch your mother first though, there's a good girl."

***

Luke

Everything hurt. His body was a broken shell of what it once was. The only thing left, was a pit of burning anger and pain. A pit that was trying to swallow him whole.

He was lead back to his room, trembling from the most recent stint of shock therapy. He had lost count of how many he had received now. Enough that his ears seemed to be constantly ringing and he had a constant shake to his hands that wouldn't seem to go away.

He didn't see how it was meant to help with anything other than torture him. Although, of course he knew that was the true motive here. Punishment from his father. He wanted to break him and remould him, and as much as Luke didn't want to admit it, he was beginning to think he might just do it too.

Over the weeks, the treatments had progressively got more and more aggressive. It had started with just Dr Rowan's therapy and lots of praying, reading the bible and more praying, then came the weird stuff. Other doctors started to tie him down, shout in his face about the devil, how he would go to hell, spit slurs and insults at him.

At first it was just unpleasant, but then it would continue on and on. It would go on for hours with no sleep, or food or water. He was physically and emotionally exhausted.

He had thought that it could never get worse than that. But he had been wrong, it escalated only higher to experimental hormonal injections and shock therapy. The theory being that they would shock him each time they showed him an image of a naked man. It was long, and gruelling and utterly pointless.

He didn't know if he could hold out much longer, spending most of his time when he was not getting 'treatment' sleeping.

He felt continually exhausted, which seemed to be the idea since they barely gave him enough food, and what they did give him was bland and tasteless.

His physical wellbeing was only a shadow of what this was doing to his mental wellbeing. He had never felt so miserable. His mind felt like it was being broken in two. His only pleasant thoughts of Danny and the meadow marred with a terror that Danny too may be experiencing this torture somewhere. The idea made the experience ten times worse, imagining Danny tied down, tortured, crying out for him. He had promised to protect him, and he had failed.

He felt relieved when he was lead back to his room, as he knew that blissful dark sleep was waiting for him. But as they pushed open the door, he was sluggishly aware of people in there.

His mother and Clara stood white faced as he entered. He didn't even have the strength to say anything to them as the guard who had been supporting him let go and he collapsed onto the bed.

"Hello, sweetheart," his mother said and he looked up at her, trying to pull himself into a sitting position. His arms trembled and he failed, slumping back onto the bed.

Clara rushed over, putting her arms around him and pulling him up, he looked at her slowly, frowning.

"Why are you here?" He asked, his voice sounding odd in his own ears. He didn't remember the last time he had spoken. He had only used to it to scream and cry. It was sluggish and thin, cracking in odd places.

"I'm here for you," she said her hand squeezing his hand. He looked down at it, twitching and trembling violently in her grip and blinked slowly.

"I- I can't do this anymore Clara," he whispered.

His mother's eyes filled with tears.

"Excuse me," she said, bustling from the room. It was what she always did. She could do nothing to stop their father, so instead she just convinced herself that it wasn't happening. That she hadn't married a monster. But Clara was firm beside him. She didn't leave him.

He looked at her, her eyes full of pity and.. guilt? He remembered then, what she had done to him. To Danny. He tried to pull his hand away from her.

"No," he said, strength returning to his voice, "you did this, you told him about us."

"No, no Luke," she begged.

"You did this to me!" He cried, trying to stand, and losing his balance instantly, crashing into the opposite wall.

"Oh god Luke, please!" She sobbed, as he slid down the wall, trying to get away from her. His sister, who had turned him in. Despite everything. He had trusted her! She had been his sister, his confidant and best friend for his whole life, and she had shared his most damming secret without a second glance.

"I hate you" he spat, "you are no better than him!"

She recoiled slightly at the words as if stung, but still extended a shaky hand. He ignored it, ignored her. He was too weak to stand, to even shout at her anymore. He was so tired. He felt tears on his cheeks.

"I didn't tell him," she whispered, so softly he almost didn't hear her at first.

He lifted his gaze to her face, her eyes, dark and wide like his own, flicked to him. They were full of an anguished pain as she spoke, "I swear Luke, I swear I didn't tell him. But it's still my fault. I- I wrote it, in my diary. I didn't know that he would find out, that he would see. I'm- I'm so sorry Luke. I never should have done it. I didn't.. think. I'm an idiot. I did this. I'm so, so sorry."

Tears ran down her face as she fell to her knees before him. She crawled towards him, both hands out stretched, approaching him like he was a wild animal. He cringed from her, almost instinctively as if expecting pain had become the norm now, but as her hands touched his face, he gasped. He hadn't felt a kind touch in so long, he felt himself relax into her touch.

"Please," she begged. "Please let me help you. You don't have to trust me or believe me, but let me help you."

He looked at her, and her tear stained face.

"You- didn't tell father," he repeated slowly.

"No, I would never. You're my brother. I love you."

His eyes widened as realisation hit him. "Danny?" He asked breathlessly. "Did he escape?"

Her expression was answer enough. He felt his face contort in anguish as his desperate last shred of hope, that he was free, that he was safe, shattered into a million pieces. She pulled him to her, holding him as he broke down.

It was all his fault. Danny had been captured because of him, because of his father. He was forever going to pay the price for what they had done. The guilt and anguish was crushing.

When he was finally able to breathe again, she lifted his face to hers.

"Luke," she whispered softly, "you've got to be strong. You have to play the game."

"I can't-" he started but she shushed him softly.

"I don't have time, father will be taking me home soon. But listen, Danny is okay, he- he's

not in this... place. He went to prison, but he'll be okay. His Dad is trying to get enough for his bail, not far off now last I heard from Sophie. But Luke, you're in serious danger here. You have to lie. You have to be strong. Do whatever you have to, but get out of this place. Don't let him win, don't let him break you."

Luke blinked, his mind slowly beginning to move again. Danny had gone to prison, but he was going to be okay. Clara wanted to help him. He could see Danny again. He would see Danny again. A flicker of hope began in his chest. It wasn't much, but it was something to hold on to, something to keep himself from slipping away into the abyss.

He could lie his way out of this place. He could play the game. It was his only chance.

He would not break.

***

Daniel

He had always prided himself on being a loner. But this was a new level of alone. Some days, he would go to sleep, having not even spoken a word. It began to eat at him. Being alone, made the grief worse rather than better. Every day, he felt himself slipping deeper and deeper into the dark hole in his mind. He found it hard to do anything, sometimes finding himself sat gazing blankly at the chipped brick wall for hours. Depression, he thought sluggishly. I'm... depressed. The only light in his life, was memories of Luke. He clung to them desperately, the one thing worth living for. He was out there somewhere. He hoped that wherever he was, he wasn't in pain.

So when the knock came on his cell door, he raised his head slowly.

"You've got a visitor," the voice said.

He trudged once again down the corridors, not even hoping it would be Luke anymore. It was always a disappointment. But he tried to force a smile to his face, to be grateful for his Dad's visits.

It had been a while since the last one, he thought. Although he hadn't really realised that until now. Time was hard to keep track of in here.

"It's good to see you," he said, his voice little more than a croak.

His father sighed, "I would have come sooner but... I didn't want to come without good news."

Daniel smiled a semi convincing smile, "good news?"

"Yeah," he said, "I got your bail kiddo. You're getting out of here."

His eyes widened as he gazed at his Dad, shock piercing through him "What? How?"

"Never you mind," he said, "it was never a question. You knew I'd get you out right?"

His face contorted with tears and he covered his face as he sobbed in relief and because, after all these years of his Dad seemingly not caring about him at all, he had done this for him.

"When you're home we're living on bread and water for a while, but at least you'll be home," he said, "I love you kid, you know that. No matter what."

"When?"

"They said Friday... three days from now," he added at Daniel's blank expression.

Three days. Three days and he'd be free.

***

Luke

"I won't break," he muttered almost silently under his breath, not letting his mouth move, even as his body clenched tightly in pain. He gritted his teeth to stop from crying out.

When it subsided, he sagged forward, his breaths heavy and rasping, as he gazed at the tile floor beneath him, sweat dripping from his forehead into his eyes.

"I won't break."

***

Daniel

Three days later, Daniel walked out of the prison gates, wincing at the bright sunlight. His dad waved at him from an unfamiliar beaten up car.

"Hey kid, come on," he said as Daniel opened the door.

He slid inside, looking around the car's interior.

"You got a new car?"He said quietly, surprised as his Dad had always loved his old car. The engine of the new car spluttered and groaned as he turned the key.

His Dad was quiet for a while before shrugging and saying, "you're more important."

Danny felt a twist in his gut at that. How much had his father given away to get his bail.

"Dad I-"

"Don't. Don't say it. I don't want or need to hear it," he said, and Daniel nodded slumping into his seat.

They drove home in silence. This had always been the norm, but now Daniel felt that it was a natural silence rather than a hostile one.

His dad turned onto their driveway and turned off the ignition.

"I need to tell you something," he said firmly, his gaze locked straight ahead. Daniel waited, watching him as he slowly turned to look at him. "Your bail. It was, conditional. That means there are certain rules to it, such as not moving address, losing your passport and..."

"And?" He asked.

"You're banned from any contact with the Weston family. If you so much as say hello to any of them, you can get thrown right back in jail."

Daniel's mind whirled. Initially he felt dread and horror at the words, but he knew that if he ever saw Luke again, he would be doing far more than just saying hello anyway. Likely the things he had in mind would get him sent back to jail too. He felt almost a bitter amusement at the thought.

"Ok dad," he replied weakly and his eyebrows raised.

"Okay?" He asked, giving Daniel a wary look. He nodded, not trusting his words, his eyes pricking with tears.

Avoiding his stare, he looked around at his home. It was hard to be back here. He missed Luke so much it hurt. Knowing he was out there, but not knowing where was agony. He wanted to hope that he was okay, but he had an awful feeling that that wasn't the case.

He got out the car, glancing around, feeling like he was being watched. The curtains across the road twitched, and a nearby couple walking their dog turned to look at him, their glances less than friendly. He was not going to be welcomed back with open arms it seemed. For many, he was a blight on the town, a disgrace. He swallowed his tears and tried to stand straight.

He could do this. He had to do this.

He followed his father up to the front door, and inside. He noticed how bare it looked and was struck with gratefulness and guilt all over again. His dad had done everything he could to help him. He had tried to warn him, had warned both of them, and yet when the inevitable happened he still managed to scrape together the money to free him.

His father sat on the sofa and smiled, "it's good to have you back. What do you say we watch a movie tonight?"

"A movie?" He asked. He didn't remember the last time they had sat and watched a movie together. Most evenings his father would disappear off to the bar.

He looked at his father, his eyes clear despite the concern and pity in them. He wondered with amazement if he had gone sober. After all these years.

"Um, yeah okay Dad," he said sitting down beside him, and his Dad patted him gruffly on the shoulder.

"You're a good kid Daniel, you don't deserve this. Any of it."

He didn't know what to say to that. So they slipped back into silence as the movie started, but when he looked over at his dad, he smiled.

The first genuine and grateful smile he had had in months.

***

Thanks for reading, let me know your thoughts in the comments below. I always read them! :) Daisy x