TOMMY WOKE DAZED and confused. He couldn't recall how long the beating had gone on for, only the final kick and the sound of a glass bottle shattering near his head on the concrete. He didn't think his face was too bad, he could feel a cut above his eyebrow, the scarlet blood flowing into his eyes. He knew that there would be bruises though, his skin pulled tightly and painfully, especially over his left eye socket where that elbow landed.
It was his body that was damaged almost beyond the point of movement. He needed to check how bad his body was bruised and whether it was internal bleeding or just surface bruises, but those idiots had dragged him to the shop and thrown him down in front of it like some sort of martyr strung up for the Hartford siblings to see. The sun had already risen by the time he woke up, and he knew that he was in no condition to run home and hide for the next few days until the bruises faded so the others wouldn't see him like this.
It was this that he was used to, the pain of a beaten body, testing out what parts of it were the most damaged and what parts were okay. He was almost okay with this, it was a reminder that it wasn't only his brother that was capable of hurting him like this. He was angrier than he was targeted because of the rivalry those people had with the Hartford's, most of all the Hartford he disliked the most. He didn't need to be dragged into their shit just because he was affiliated with them, and he was more curious about what happened between Mason and those assholes to make them taunt him for a week then beat him to a pulp in the middle of the night. That's something he would figure out, but right now, he needed to get off the street before someone saw him and called the police.
He rested his head back against the cold metal of the garage door and begun softly probing at his chest with his shaking fingers, trying to locate the worse of the damage. There was no bloating, a couple of hematomas around his ribs which probably meant that more than one was broken. His leg was extraordinarily sore, but there were no breaks, and it was his eye that was the worst of it he guessed. His knuckles were also pretty cut up from the few punches he managed to get in, and he let out a sobbed laugh when he remembered breaking the first asshole's nose.
"Tommy?!" Sasha shouted, sprinting down the path towards him. She skidded to a stop in front of him, crouching down between his spread legs.
"Jesus Christ, those assholes," she spat venomously, her expression hard with concern as she extended her hand to his face, hovering it just over his left temple.
"I'm okay," Tommy exclaimed, he cringed at the way his voice came out hoarse and cracked as though he had been screaming.
"You are not okay! Your eye looks really bad," she directed her frustration on him, he realized then that he never wanted to be on Sasha Hartford's wrong side, he was sure she would be scarier than any of her brothers.
"I told Mason they would target you," she muttered under her breath as she looked over the rest of the injuries on his face, her eyes always flickering back to his bad eye that now thinking about it, was very blurry.
"I don't care, can you just help me in, so the police don't get called on me." Sasha looked at him like she was about to throw a punch too.
"I'm not moving you, we will wait for the boys to get here, so I don't drop you, then we will call the police, and you'll report them," She instructed, her voice unwavering of its authority. Tommy's stomach bottomed out at that, her expression turning just as dangerous as his.
"We are not calling the police."
"Tommy you were beaten up, you need to—,"
"I said, no!" He shouted, wincing at the burning pain coursing through his broken ribs. His breaths became heaved and broken as he clutched his side, doubling over as nausea threatened to tear him apart. Sasha watched him cautiously before carefully placing a hand on his shoulder, light enough not to make him flinch like she obviously expected him to do.
"Okay, we will talk about it later," her voice turned soft but as cautious as her expression. "Here they are," She added only a few seconds later and Tommy pushed himself back up to see the two cars pull up in front of the shop.
He'd never seen Nicky or Harry look so serious before. Soon enough, all of them were either crouched or standing around him. Tommy looked at all of them as they all talked at the same time, Sasha arguing with a silent Mason about something it seemed they had already talked about while Mason just stared past his sister and straight at him. Nicky and Harry asking if he was okay repeatedly, not touching him but coming close. It was Christian, though, his uncle who was looking at him with the question in his eyes. Was it him? Tommy shook his head in response, and Christian gave a short twitch in a nod.
"I told you Sam would go after him, and you didn't listen! None of you Fucking listened to me! This is your fault Mason," Sasha's last words seemed to cut into Mason, and he snapped from whatever deeper thought he was in.
"Sasha, enough, I'll sort it out," Mason's tone was all calm, but hard at the same time, the only giveaway that he was the least bit angry about this was how his fingers gripped his biceps tightly from where his arms were crossed over his chest.
"Just get me the fuck inside," Tommy shouted through the erratic talking and bickering. They all stopped instantly and stared at him.
"Tommy, you need to go to a hospital or a doctor at least," Nicky broke the few seconds of silence that had seemed to stretch on for far too long.
"No, I don't need to go to a hospital, it's not bad enough, I think it's just a couple broken ribs and my eye," Tommy explained in a much calmer voice as before, prodding carefully at his ribs again.
"Are you insane? Tommy you—," Harry attempted this time but instantly stopped when Tommy returned it with a glare, his upper lip almost curling up over his teeth in a snarl.
"I'm in this mess because of whatever stupid rivalry your darling brother has with a bunch of heavy fisted oafs, so if I say no hospital or no police, then, no hospital and no police." They stopped and blinked at him in shock, Christian had his eyes fixed on the blood that was sweeping through his shirt just above his hip.
Mason came towards him first, but Tommy shook his head, he didn't want to be angry at him for this, but he couldn't help it. He was livid, and he was beaten because of him because of his stupid rivalry with some losers that have nothing better to do with their small-town lives then beat someone up in such a cowardly way. Tommy didn't even have a solid chance in a 1 against 4 fight.
"Don't touch me, this is your problem to fix so go fix it," Tommy tried to sound firm and unbreakable, but the reality was he was about to split down the middle. The pain in his body was dredging up old memories, ones like his dream that had him out running last night.
Mason nodded and took a step back, recrossing his arms as Christian and Sasha came to his aid. Harry stood in front of Tommy with his hands extended as if prepared to catch his inevitable fall. Tommy gritted his teeth as he lifted his arms high enough that Christian and Sasha could get underneath them. Just from doing that he could feel his body going into shock from the pain, his eyes blurred and his ears rang too loud to hear much else. His breathing was raged enough before, but now he felt as though he was choking on the air, suddenly thick and strangled.
"Tommy, hey, asshole, you don't want to go to the hospital? Then eyes forward and stay awake," Tommy could hear the concern in Harry's voice but couldn't help but grin at his wit. He glanced up at him as he saw Harry with that stupid cunning smirk. "Atta-boy."
Tommy glanced at Mason who was looking down the street towards the pub, his jaw set and his eyes narrowed. Nicky was watching him carefully, maybe even a bit nervous. It was as if he was expecting Mason to run down there and take them all on himself. He concentrated on the side of Mason's face as the other pushed up from the ground. Tommy couldn't help the strangled sound the escaped his clenched teeth as his torso burned from the inside out, his ribs settling and cracking back into place.
He huffed for breath, leaning his head against Christian's temple, his feet planting underneath him. He felt terrible for it, but he wanted his uncle to know what leaving him with his family really looked like. This beating looked worse than it was, so at least there would be some resemblance to the states his brother and his lackeys left him in. For that, he felt terrible, but he also hated himself for still having compassion for Christian after he left.
"This, this is nothing, nothing compared to—," Tommy ground out, his voice broken.
"I know, Tommy, I know," Christian interrupted him before he could even speak Jonathan's name, because if he did, then it was game-over, the others would know who he was. Maybe he didn't really care if they knew, but he didn't trust them enough, his mere existence was dangerous to be around. If they knew, they could save their own asses and contact Jonathan, it had happened before, and Tommy wouldn't let it happen again.
"But you don't," Tommy choked, garnering the attention of Mason who he hadn't realized he was still staring at.
Silence fell, and Sasha and Christian helped him into the garage, Harry opening and holding the doors for them to go through and Nicky and Mason moving on through behind them. They managed to get him into Christian's office and lower him onto the couch, Sasha crouching down in front of him with a hand still on his shoulder as if afraid he would fall. Mason can in shortly after with a first aid kit putting it down on the floor next to Sasha — standing over Tommy with a look in his eye that he couldn't quite distinguish between pity or frustration.
"I'm fine, I can do it," Tommy tried to lean forward to grab for the first aid kit, but Sasha smacked his hand away.
"Tommy I need to look at where that blood is coming from under your hoodie," she said, completely ignoring his command.
"No."
"Would you stop being stubborn, she's trying to help," Mason exclaimed tediously, looking instead over his shoulder at Christian for back — who of which was now leaning against his desk watching this all unfold.
"I said no, I know where the blood is coming from, it's not serious," Tommy forced the words out, but his head was throbbing, and nausea was starting to kick in. It was a lie too, he didn't know how bad or how he got whatever wound that was making him bleed like that, but he wasn't going to let them see.
"I think you and our idea of severity are completely different," Nicky said, no humour whatsoever in his voice.
"Tommy, we won't judge you, we just want to help," Sasha said in that soft tone that Tommy found hard to resist. He flicked his gaze up to Christian who was looking right back at him with that look that said he wasn't going to be on Tommy's side for this one. He knew why Christian wanted him to trust them as he did. Christian wanted him to stay and put up a fight against his brother. Tommy didn't know if he could manage that. If he could really trust these people that he had only known for just over a week.
"I don't want to talk about it so don't ask anything, and don't touch them, please..." Tommy's words came out choked, the memories of his tormented past flickering behind his eyes at just the idea of other people looking at his scars. He looked around the room and waited for them all to nod in agreement.
"Okay, you tell me where I can touch, and say if it's too much and we will take a break..." Sasha explained, all Tommy could do was nod. Relief of her understanding hardly seeped through under the anxiety of being touched over his scars. It's a trigger, and he doesn't want to blackout into a panic like he's done before because of it.
Tommy gripped the neckline of his hoodie and attempted to pull it up himself, but lifting his arms above his head sent burning searing pain coursing through his beaten body. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to force the trembling to cease. But it wouldn't, and as the adrenaline and shock started to seep away, he felt the fear crack him down the middle. He wanted to trust them, he desperately wanted to have his uncle back too, but he had let himself trust before, and every time he was hurt by it.
"Tom, look at me," Christian sounded a lot closer now. Tommy hadn't realized that he had his hand over his eyes until he felt Christian tap the top of it with his index finger like he used to when he was younger.
Tommy remembered when he was just 5 years old, and they were celebrating Christian's 22nd birthday — his father had scolded him for not tucking in his undershirt to his trousers properly. His father had said that even though he was the second son, he had to appear as though he wasn't as useless as he was. He had run away and cried under one of the kitchen benches. Christian, of course, came to find him. Tommy had always covered his eyes when he was about to or was crying, and Christian had tapped his hand until he took his hands away. Feeling it again made his heart shatter.
Tommy took his shaking hand away and stared back at his uncle who was looking at him in the same way he always had, with that worried look in his eyes. He never told him he wasn't good enough. Never scold him for laughing or smiling. Never hurt him. He would take him out for ice cream or to the park. He would let him sleep in his bed if he was scared of the dark. He taught him how an engine works. He was his first friend, his brother, his father. Christian used to be the type of person Tommy wanted to be. He never looked up to his father or brother, he always looked up to Christian. Until he was gone.
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