Day 5 — A door left slightly open
Written for day 5 of @monthlywritingchallenges dreadcember, and BOY, this one's a doozy. Warnings for references to grooming and CSA, although Nathan is 18 in this fic.
"Nathan?"
Nathan sits bolt upright in bed at the sound of Peter's voice.
He's been lolling under the covers, letting Mr. Linderman stroke his hair, trying not to shudder too obviously when his fingers brush Nathan's bare skin.
But now he's sitting up, peering toward the sliver of light between the door and its frame.
How could he have forgotten to close and lock the door?!
"Pete," he mumbles under his breath. Then he swears.
"Just shut the door," says Linderman, squeezing his shoulder in a way that's probably supposed to be reassuring. He shrugs the hand off angrily.
Usually, when Mr. Linderman insinuates himself into Nathan's room on nights like this, Nathan has gotten good at going elsewhere in his mind. Pretending he's not there, that this is happening to somebody else. It's surprisingly easy, flying away in his mind. And he never has a single mark on him afterwards, no matter how rough Linderman is on him. Sometimes he wonders if it ever happened at all, or if it's just some sick fantasy.
But Peter's voice just outside of his bedroom has brought him hurtling back to Earth. He thinks back on the last hour and feels sick.
"I can't," he hisses at Mr. Linderman. "He's my brother." He glares at the old man in his bed, grinding his teeth. He wants so badly to kick him out, not let him touch Nathan again. But then Peter would see.
He gets out of bed and pulls on a bathrobe, going to the door and looking out the crack to see his six-year-old brother standing there, looking up with big, wet eyes. He swallows and opens the door slightly wider, making sure his body is blocking Peter's view of his bedroom.
"Hey Pete," he says, smiling down at his perfect little brother. He swallows back self-loathing that tastes like acid barf in his mouth; Peter is sensitive, and he doesn't want Peter to pick up that anything's wrong. "What's up?"
"I can't sleep," he whispers. "I had a nightmare." He bites his lip and looks up at Nathan with all the power of his big, brown eyes. "Can I come sleep with you?"
He tries to peep over Nathan's shoulder into his room, but Nathan shifts so he can't see.
"No," he says, and Peter's lip quivers. "I'm sorry, Pete, you can't tonight. Go back to bed."
"I can't!" Peter wails, stamping his foot. Nathan winces and resists the urge to look over his shoulder.
This is his own fault. He shouldn't have let Peter start sneaking into his room at night when he couldn't sleep, but he couldn't help it. His mother is right; he's too soft on him. But Pete's only a little kid, and in Nathan's private opinion, his parents are far too hard on him, when they acknowledge his presence at all.
He thinks fast; Peter will wake up the whole house in two minutes flat if he doesn't come up with a solution. That's his responsibility as a big brother, and it's one he's glad to have.
"Gimme a sec, Pete," he says, squeezing Peter's shoulder. "Go back to your room, count to 100 and I'll join you." He steps out of the room properly and closes the door behind him before bending down to Peter's level and looking him in the eyes. "Promise."
Peter squints mistrustfully into Nathan's eyes. He's only six years old, but already he's learned that the grown ups around him aren't to be trusted. Smart kid.
Still, Nathan's determined not to be included in that category.
"You swear?" he asks.
Nathan quirks his lip in a half-grin, placing both his hands on his brother's shoulders. "C'mon, Pete, have I ever lied to you?"
"Well," says Peter, taking a deep breath, "there was that time—"
Nathan puts a hand over Peter's mouth to muffle his speech about all the times Nathan has lied to him. They don't need that right now. Peter tries to glare at him but ends up giggling into Nathan's hand. Nathan's eyes twinkle back at him.
"Just— trust me, okay?"
Peter sizes him up carefully, then nods. Clearly he's decided that today, Nathan has earned his trust.
Nathan grins at him, full wattage. "I'll be right there to fight off the monsters under the bed," Nathan says, wrapping him in a hug and pressing a kiss to his forehead before sending him off on his way down the corridor.
He's beyond glad to have an excuse to abandon Linderman for the night. When he screws up his courage and re-enters his bedroom to gather his things, Linderman asks where he's going.
There's an edge in his tone, like he's irritated he won't have Nathan there all night to warm his bed and wet his dick. Like he's somehow entitled to that.
But he's not. Nathan goes along with it — because he didn't understand what was happening at first; because by the time he did he was already terrified of Mr. Linderman; because he's even more terrified of his father ever finding out. But Peter makes him brave.
"My brother needs me," he mutters tightly, as if he owes the man any kind of explanation. "That takes priority right now."
"Are you sure?" says Mr. Linderman, his hand resting on his bare chest, sprinkled with graying hairs. He thumbs at one of the nipples on his sagging chest and Nathan turns away in disgust, promising himself that when he gets older, he'll never be anything like this. He wants to be the opposite of Linderman in every way. "I'm your guest, Nathan. Your hosting skills rather leave something to be desired."
"You're my father's guest," Nathan says in a low, dangerous voice. "Do you want to tell him what you're doing in his son's bedroom?"
Linderman raises a cool eyebrow, like he has nothing to be ashamed of. As if the shame is all Nathan's. "And what are you doing in your brother's bedroom, pray tell?"
Nathan's head snaps back around to him. "You're disgusting," he spits. For him to insinuate that what happens in this room between the two of them on all the very worst nights of Nathan's life has anything to do with what happens in Peter's room when Nathan comes to fight the monsters in Peter's nightmares is...is monstrous.
Linderman doesn't seem to care. Nathan has known for a very long time that he doesn't give a damn what Nathan thinks. There's no fighting that.
So he leaves, and goes to the brother who needs him.
If he can't fight his own monsters, at least he can vanquish Peter's.
