Chapter 330: Pain is a great way to wake up

*Warning, this scene contains violence, blood, gore, things of that nature. Not extreme, but read at your own risk.

It turned out that Colby had been hiding inside of himself to prevent himself from feeling everything completely. While it could have been a good tactic, Brent was well-versed in drawing others out.

So was Kellen, and Henry?

Henry was the one who did it, sparing the two ’young boys’ from doing the adults’ work. Brent would have felt angered by that statement if he hadn’t been thrust back into the young boy who had been confused and who had known that his brother didn’t like him, but didn’t know to what extent. He’d been thrust back a few times, the emotions overwhelming him, the phantom pain of having his own arm ripped off haunting him as he watched Colby shake a shiver, recovering from the shock of having his arm taken away, and then given back.

When Colby looked at Brent, he had recognition in his eyes, not the blank, listless look that he’d hidden behind when Brent had arrived in the jail. He’d tried to hide, but Henry had taken him back out.

Now that they knew he was hiding, and not broken, there was no stopping them. He’d shown a moment of humanity in a room full of angry monsters. He wasn’t getting away in one piece. Brent wasn’t even sure if he was going to make it out alive.

Brent wasn’t going to kill him. That was probably what he wanted, and Brent wasn’t kind enough to give it to him. He could die from blood loss if they weren’t careful, or shock, but with Vance here...well, Brent could have felt bad for him in another life. Not this one.

When Lieutenant Parker came back with the razor blades, he also came back with a mirror. That wasn’t something that he’d requested, but Lieutenant Parker had read between the lines, probably like everyone else had, and he didn’t want Brent to not accomplish his dreams.

Brent’s hands shook when he made the first cut, Eleanor coming forward to hold Colby’s head in place as he tried to move away from the sharp edge of the razor blade coming near his face. Eleanor was not going to stand for it. She even offered encouraging words to Brent as he slowly carved his own wounds into Colby’s face. His scars, his traumas, his pain.

He remembered things he’d tucked away. Things he’d had to do so that he could remain sane. The fact that Colby had also held him down. His brother had watched the whole thing, smiling gleefully as Colby had carved up the tiny Brent.

Just a child. Just a boy.

Someone who had tried to be loved by his family, loved by his brother, but had been turned away at every chance. Someone who hadn’t taken the warnings of the good staff at face value. Who hadn’t trusted them because he had been a fucking child.

These people had taken advantage of that and had stolen him, blamed the people who had been kind to Brent, and had taken his arm, his face, his life from him until he had to flee to another fucking continent.

These people were the ones who had sunk the fucking blade in deeper at his brother’s encouragement. He didn’t want even a Healer to be able to heal the missing chunks from Brent’s face.

Someone like Vance could have, but they never would have taken him to someone like Vance. They had all hated him, even his grandfather at the time. It was only after this incident that his grandfather had begun to reflect on his actions, but what was done was done.

Brent’s fingers were slippery, and it was Sergei, tender, sweet man that he was, who had helped him wipe his fingers so that Brent didn’t hurt himself. Colby was screaming, begging for mercy, but all Brent could see in the man’s face was a reflection of his own. The small, scared child that he’d been, and how Colby had been an adult. A fucking adult and he had still harmed him.

Brent pressed harder.

When Brent was done with Colby’s face, his chest was heaving. It had felt like he’d run the obstacle course back at the Saturn Guild, not something that was strenuous, of course, but didn’t require that much effort.

"You’re doing great." Sergei whispered, his support, his constant. He was the one who was keeping Brent upright whenever his knees gave out. Eleanor grunted.

"You are." Both of them were ignoring the screams and cries of Colby. Brent would have felt chilled if he wasn’t also ignoring the man.

"Thanks?" Brent offered, his fingers trembling.

"Do you want me to heal it?" Lieutenant Vance asked, appearing beside Brent and almost startling him. Sergei’s hands on his waist kept him upright and in front of Colby still as Brent turned to look at him.

His eyes were still bright green, scanning Brent, Sergei and everyone who was caught in their sights. However, his normally smiling face was flat. It was honestly pretty scary, but Brent had other things to worry about.

"No. Don’t heal it." Brent said slowly, turning his face to see the man bleeding all over the place. After all, the face liked to bleed and really make a mess of things. Brent let out a heavy sigh. "Don’t heal it at all." Brent muttered.

"Understood." Lieutenant Vance said, giving a small nod. "Are you done, or do you want to do some more?" Another request if he was done, another probe. They were certainly eager to get their hands on him. Brent almost wanted to laugh.

It was like they had all been waiting for him to move, even though it hadn’t been long since Colby had fallen into their hands. Brent, for his part, didn’t think he was done yet. Now that he knew that Colby was there and with everyone, he wanted to do it one more time.

Another pull, another awful tearing moment. One more from Brent as payment, to prove that Brent wasn’t him. Brent would never be him.

Brent would let him be healed after his arm was taken. What a blessing Brent would give him. He should be grateful for his kindness.

"Once more." Brent muttered quietly, his gaze back to Colby and his repaired arm. Colby jerked as Brent reached for him. Colby tried to move away, but Eleanor was still there. She held him in place as Brent locked his hands around Colby’s arm again.

Gentle, calm, but the warmth from Sergei bleeding into him from behind was needed. The support was important, especially since Brent felt that he could only do this once more. One more time before something changed in him forever. He wasn’t Kellen or something similar, but he just knew himself.

He’d been keeping the true pain and weight of this on his shoulders for so long. So damn long, and getting revenge on him like this was great, short term. Long term...he hoped it would make him feel better.

Brent’s grip tightened on Colby’s arm, and this time, when his grip was bruising once more, Colby let out a deep, guttural scream. It pierced Brent’s ears, but unlike the first time when he’d been in a bubble, all Brent could think about was how he’d screamed, how he’d been angry and scared and afraid and now that Colby was doing the same thing that he’d done tears began to fill Brent’s eyes.

His emotions were overflowing as he gripped tighter, wanting him to be in pain as tears fell down his face and he pulled. With Sergei behind him this time, he didn’t have to brace himself on Colby’s thigh this time.

The same sickening pop, but the tearing was far more graphic this time. Bile rose in Brent’s throat as he watched Colby’s skin tear. It wasn’t as clean of a tear off as the first time, flesh pulling and blood splattering everywhere. Brent couldn’t tell what was tears or what was blood on his face as he listened to Colby scream and beg.

Brent’s chest heaved, blood pouring out of the arm he now held, and like the first time, Lieutenant Vance was there once more. Taking the limb from Brent, approaching Colby, but he knew what it meant this time.

He was screaming, kicking his feet, blood gushing out of the stump where his arm had been attached before. Brent watched, detached, as he was held down by Eleanor as Lieutenant Vance approached, grim-faced. Eleanor was a mirror of his expression, looking set in her decision.

"Are you done, Brent?" Sergei asked, his voice sweet. Brent’s breathing was ragged, his shoulders heaving, his hands shaking. He’d done it.

He’d done it twice. He’d felt how the flesh gave away under his hands, how tight he’d need to hold on to do that to someone. He’d needed two hands to do it cleanly, which was probably why his arm was so fucked up.

Colby had only used one hand, relying on the strength that came naturally to Espers once they hit a certain Class. He didn’t know his body and his own strength at that time. Brent did.

Even in his revenge he was giving the man too much.

"Yeah." Brent breathed. "You guys can have him." Brent told him. He knew that Sergei needed to get his lashing in too, but now that it was over, Brent wasn’t certain he wanted to remain in the room.

"Let’s get you cleaned up." Sergei whispered. Brent nodded, swallowing thickly as Sergei turned him away from Colby, his screams echoing in his ears as they turned to face Rhys.

Rhys nodded at Brent, his hand reaching out to touch Brent’s shoulder when they got close enough. He gave Brent a squeeze and Brent met his yellow, monstrous gaze.

"You held up well, Brent." Rhys told him. No humour in his voice. He wasn’t making fun of him. He was being sincere.

"Thank you." Brent rasped and Rhys stepped back. That was when Brent realised that it wasn’t just Sergei and Brent, but that someone else was behind them as well. Brent turned to look over his shoulder and was surprised to find Aunt Dina.

"You two aren’t going anywhere alone right now." She growled, only making Brent confused. What did she mean by that? Did she not trust Sergei? That was a bit rude, wasn’t it? Given how polite and kind he’d been thus far. Sergei had been a great guest, so why was she- "There are some showers on the third floor. I’ll show you the way." She said, slipping past Rhys and out into the jail hallway.

Brent was just more confused, but Sergei didn’t ask her any questions. Brent, for his part, wasn’t even sure where to start. All he knew was that he probably looked like he’d been filming a horror movie and the sooner he was clean, the sooner he could put all of this behind him.

At the very least, he knew he wasn’t his brother. He wasn’t horny after.