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"Happy." Carter frowns at sir's right hand, which is drawing slow, steady circles against Carter's forearm. Carter isn't sure if he remembershappy. It feels like it's been a lifetime sincehappy.
"A memory, perhaps," sir prompts. "A favorite book. A trip you took. A football game you attended. Something that made you happy."
Carter can't help but sink in on himself a bit.Can't sir tell how much it hurts to talk about those things? To think about his old life at all?There are already tears in Carter's eyes as he says the first thing to come to mind. "I like fireworks."
"Oh?"
“A lot.” Carter swallows, hoping sir can’t hear the way his voice is trembling. “My mom – I grew up with a single mom, my dad died when I was young – she loved fireworks. She always got so excited for the 4th of July. We'd go to the big tent sales and splurge, and then we'd throw a huge party on the 3rd for everyone to come hangout. We'd cook and play yard games. We'd drink. Listen to music. When it got dark enough, we'd do the fireworks."
Sir stays quiet for a moment or two longer than Carter would like before asking, "Is it the fireworks you love or that time together with your mom?"
"Both, I guess." Carter shrugs. "I mean, when she died, we still kept doing it. Maison…" Carter trails off, shaking his head slightly.
"Maison…" sir prompts, his tone far too casual.
Swallowing hard, Carter forces the lump in his throat down to his belly, letting it sit there instead so sir can't hear the pain in his voice. "Maison always tries -tried- to make it home for the party. It wasn't really the same, though. Even when he did manage to sneak away, the party was at my mom’s best friend's house instead- they're who took me in and finished raising me. They were like sisters. We’ve called her auntie ever since I can remember. But it was different. The people. The music. The games. The food, even. But the fireworks were never different. They were constant. I guess… I don’t know. I guess I liked that."
Carter squeezes his eyes shut when sir says nothing. “That’s stupid. I’m-”
“Hush, now. That’s not stupid.” Sir presses a kiss to his temple, making Carter shiver. “I was just processing the information.”
Carter wants to ask if he’s processing the information to see if he can use any of it against Maison, but he’s too afraid of the punishment it’d probably earn him. He remains silent instead.
“How old were you when your mom died?”
That wasn’t what Carter was expecting, the question catching him off guard. “14.”
“And Maison was already in the military?”
“Yes, sir.” Carter presses harder against sir, needing comfort even if it’s from the man hurting him. Sir tightens his hold and starts stroking Carter’s arm again. Carter hadn’t realized he had stopped. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed it, either. “Maison said he’d get out for me, but he had just gotten this big promotion, and I could tell he didn’t want to do it. He wanted to stay in and follow his dream. I couldn’t be the one to hold him back from that, you know?”
“Mmm.” Sir nuzzles the side of Carter’s throat. “But the family you stayed with – they were good to you?”
Carter nods. “Very. Aunt Lisa couldn’t get pregnant, and they never adopted for some reason, I don’t know, maybe because they didn’t have a lot of money… but yeah. They were happy to have me.”
Sudden panic seizes Carter’s chest. He tries to sit up, but sir fights him, sending water sloshing over the sides of the tub. When he pulls again, sir lets him go, looking at him in confusion when Carter turns to face him.
“Don’t hurt them,” Carter begs, hating the way his voice gives out in desperation. “P-please, sir. Do whatever you want to me, but don’t hurt them. Please don’t hurt them. They’re – they’re good people, and they’re all Maison has left and-”
Carter stops himself, hanging his head. He laughs dryly under his breath.
“-and I can’t believe I just told you that. The only family Maison has left, and I just fucking handed them to you.” Carter looks at sir incredulously, another laugh puffing from him. He’s nearing hysterics, though he’s not sure if it’ll be hysterical laughter or sobs at this point. “You hate Maison.Of courseyou’re going to go after his family that he has left. You’re – fuck. I – I can’t believe I’m such a fuckingidiot.”
Something seems to crack in sir, emotions pouring into his eyes that Carter has never seen in him before. He seals it quickly, but not fast enough. Carter saw. There’s a human somewhere inside the monster.
Carter has no fucking idea what to do with that.
“Sweetheart, breathe.” Sir takes Carter’s face in his big hands, the grip tight enough to comfort and ground him without causing pain. “From the sounds of things, hurting them would hurt you more than it would Maison. I’m uninterested in hurting you in that way.”
In that way.Such a lovely reminder that this manisinterested in hurting him, he’s just picky about his methods.
Carter can’t believe this is his life now. He can’t believe he’s found himself in this position. He truly can’t. Maybe if he just understood better…
“Sir?”
“Yes?”
“Can I ask a question about… Maison?”
