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"Yes. Where is he?"
"In here." He turns his back and heads off, expecting Travis to follow. It makes Travis feel better that the man so openly turned away from him, exposing himself to danger, but he still moves slowly and makes sure to assess everything as he goes.
His training falls away the moment he turns a corner to find Carter naked and kneeling on the floor, staring off into nothing.
"What did you do?" Travis growls, taking a step toward the man, then a step toward Carter, torn between which to go to first.
The man holds out a paper, so Travis chooses to go to him. He snatches the paper and squints at it as the man says shit about a party and first time and going slow and consent. The paper is a sort of agreement, almost like a contract. There's a line for a safe word to be written. A line for an emergency contact. A large box for hard and soft limits. A line for allergies.
At the top of the page is a name - Carter.
This is Carter's.
Travis hand clenches, wrinkling the paper. "What limit did you cross?”
"I didn't cross any limits. I would never fucking do that.”
“Then what the fuck upset him?”
“I don’t know!” He tosses an aggravated hand up. “We talked extensively beforehand about what I planned to do and what he needed from me. Everything was good. We did our scene and it was fine. More than fine. He was amazing. And then I went to take care of him and he just lost it.”
Travis shakes his head. “Lost it how?”
“He got upset. Started saying no, over and over again, like to himself instead of to me, though. And then he started crying. Sobbing. He went like this a few minutes ago.” He looks at Carter. “He’s just… quiet. I can’t even get him to react to me now.”
Shit. Fuck. Shit, shit, fucking shit.
He broke.
After all that work, and some random fucker broke him.
"When did he get upset?”
“He was perfectly fine when I told him I was going to get some things from the bathroom. When I came back, he was freaking out.”
“What did you say, exactly? Do you remember?”
“I don’t. It was just the normal shit." He vaguely waves his hand toward Carter. “You know - you did so well, that was so good, let me take care of you now, sweetheart."
The world stutters. "You called him that? Sweetheart?"
The man frowns. "Yes?"
Travis’s eyes fall closed in grief. He gives himself a single moment to mourn, to drown in guilt, to regret a million things. Then he pulls his fucking shit together because Carter needs him.
"It's not your fault," Travis tells the man, hating himself for having to admit it. He doesn't say what else he's thinking. It's my fault. "The name - sweetheart - it triggered him."
"He didn't put it on the sheet. He didn't tell me."
"He probably didn't know." Travis shakes his head, self-hatred bubbling so thick inside his chest he can barely breathe. Carter, he reminds himself. Focus on Carter. "I’ll take it from here.”
“I don’t think-”
But Travis ignores him. He goes down to one knee in front of Carter, carefully running his hand through the boy’s hair. “Hey, Carter. Can you look at me?”
Carter just keeps staring over Travis's shoulder at the wall.
Travis takes a deep breath, not sure if he should do what he does next, but not sure there’s another option. “Come on, pet. Look at sir.”
