.
He couldn't forgive him.
There were many things that he had forgiven Ayden for in the past, including most recently forgiving him for having ruined his childhood. Things that Ayden did to him were easier to forgive, easier to explain away because he needed the man. He'd forgotten that he needed him because he'd spent so many years without him. But he had never actually coped without him, not truly, pining for him quietly in the background all this time. How many lovers had he taken, unconsciously - sometimes consciously - comparing them to him? How many times had he lied or stolen or beaten someone up and remembered all of the little tips and tricks that the parse had taught him? How many nightmares had he had, waking crying in the night to sob into his pillow as he succumbed to the unbearable sense of loss and loneliness?
The man's return had just brought so much of it rushing back and he had slipped into familiar patterns, slotting back into his former groove with incredible speed and ease and if Ayden had told him to do it to anyone else, beat someone bloody like that, even beat them to death, Fionn would have done it - gladly.
But Lars had gotten under his skin, the first person to manage it in this place since Ayden, the only person to do so since the brunette in fact. The two were very different but they had both gained his affection at a time of extreme vulnerability, Ayden when he was a new passive and Lars when he saved him from Fred. Lars had actually done it to save him, caring about his well-being in a way that Ayden had not. He couldn't deny that the parse's motives had been less than pure but he was willing to forgive that, liked to think that he had forgiven him as well.
However, Lars was something else entirely. Lars was actually something special and Ayden had coerced him into beating him bloody and then the horror of horrors, he had refused to let him stay with him, tend to him as he poured his life force onto the floor.
Fionn had begged and his patron had bodily grabbed him by the collar and flung him into his room, locking the door behind them both. The blond had had no choice in the matter, unable to pick the lock to get back out and so he had had to pander to the man's wants and desires all while the image of all that blood swam in his mind.
The teenager could not forgive him.
Part of him had been tempted to literally beat the door down but Ayden would have stopped him so instead he cleaned himself up as he'd been told to do, shaking as he washed Lars' blood and some of his own from his skin, bandaging his swollen and bloody knuckles as he was told. When he was done with that, he had allowed the patron to have him. Fionn was simply a means to an end, the other caring little that he was an actual person instead of an object and the boy endured, sobbing softly much to the patron's evident disgust.
The other couldn't simply take what he wanted and leave it at that though, deciding to add further insult to injury by biting him, sinking his teeth in deep enough into the point where neck met shoulder that the young passive had actually screamed. It was both the shock of it and the pain, the soft flesh yielding in a world of scarlet agony that made the boy feel faint, only kept from toppling off the bed by the brunette's unshakeable grip. By the time he finally pushed the blond away in distaste, the younger man's face was swollen and purpled, eyes heavily bloodshot from all his crying, and a trickle of blood had dribbled onto his chest.
Fionn scooted away from the patron, head turning gingerly as he tried to examine the additional damage that Ayden had done to him. He had to move to wash it before he could tell that the punctures were small and not complete, most of his skin simply sorely pressed; it was going to leave one hell of a bruise all the same.
"What the fuck, Ayden? Why would you- What's wrong with you?" the middle Madden asked, voice pitched higher than usual in his distress, cracking a little courtesy of his tears.
"Oh don't be such a whiny bitch. You can be such a girl sometimes, you know that? I mean, it's why I like you but fuck's sake, you can be really fucking pathetic," Ayden complained, leaning back against the pillows as if he hadn't a care in the world. As if none of this horror had happened, first with Lars and now with Fionn.
"I don't- As if you know anything about girls! Sweet Lady, don't you care how much you- You aren't right, Ayd, you're fucking moony!" the blond hissed, doing his best to clean himself up, getting dressed in the expectation of being let out.
"Oh just because you haven't had any girls doesn't mean that I haven't," the older man sneered, lips pulling back in something close to a snarl as he continued, the expression exceptionally ugly to the blond. "And moony? Me? Sure you ain't mixing me up with your little boyfriend? Bloody Half-Wit."
The phrase 'half-wit' said like a name stirred some recollection in him, something familiar yet out of reach. He had the uncanny feeling that he'd heard that drop out of Ayden's mouth before but he couldn't-
"Don't you fucking talk about him! You don't get to talk about him, he isn't- he's... he's..."
He trailed off as the brunette laughed, wild, hearty and rich, clearly enjoying himself. "Sweet Lady, can you hear yourself? Do you realise how bad you've got it for him, gay boy? You actually like fucking men, don't you? What a combination! The Virgin and the Slut!" he chuckled, while Fionn's face reddened.
"Let me out. Now!" he bit out.
"Ask nicely now, remember your manners."
"I've done everything you wanted so you can fucking let me out!"
"Ask nicely and I'll let you out to your boyfriend."
"Please let me out, Ayden," he ground out between gritted teeth.
"Properly. You say 'Please let me out...' what? What comes after?" the brunette asked, drawing this out.
"Please let me out... M-Mr... Fairfax," he whispered, some of the colour draining out of his face.
"Sorry, what was that?" the patron asked, making a show of cupping a hand around his ear to catch the sound. Fionn repeated it louder this time, hating the other with every fibre of his being, vibrating with it. He held himself tensely as he watched the other stand, stretch cat-like and pad to the door as if he had all the time in Vita.
How many precious seconds had been lost because of this asshole? How much blood could Lars have lost? Given the way that he'd been bleeding, red flowing from him at an alarming rate... He feared that he'd have spilled all of it. He needed to get back to him. To help. Too little, too late but he had to try.
He chose Lars.
The door's lock clicked open as Ayden manipulated it and then Fionn was by his side, slipping out as soon as he swung the portal inwards.
"Have fun with your boyfriend! What's left of him..." Ayden sneered after him before slamming the door. The blond didn't even care, he was walking swiftly, as fast as he could in spite of his own pain. No matter what, he couldn't be suffering as much as his roommate. He needed to-
There was blood in the hall, a trail of it. It wasn't a drag mark but... he stopped and stared.
Oh sweet Alioe no.
A glance into the room confirmed it: Lars was gone. All that remained was the trail of blood, shoeprints trekked through it and the scene inside that looked like a massacre.