The boy’s eyes have cleared. His colouring isn’t so pasty and sickly pale. He hadn’t realised how much colour Izz had lost until his cheeks came back to their natural tanned shade. It stops him from continuing his aim of killing the gnat in the cell. If he were to do it there’s no telling if it’d send Izz straight back into wherever his consciousness had been inside that skull of his.
“Don’t—” Izz breaks off into a coughing fit, choking on air. “Don’t . . . He’s fine . . . He can stay. I trust him.” More of that terrible wheezing cough.
I will bring that fucker back from the dead to skin him alive. Over and over again.
Every cracked word Izz spoke ignited the burned memory of what Sinn'ous had stepped into in that cell. Thatfucker’s cockdown Izz’s—
He cuts his thoughts off, severing their lives at the roots, if they were left to grow and fester he’ll be down those stairs, back in B-Wing, pissing on their corpses.
“What did you do to him?” Reni growls out an accusation Sinn'ous does not appreciate.
“He didn’t . . . do anything,” Izz rasps. “He saved me from. . .” his voice trails, eyes flickering in a threat to fade away to that horrid state, “others . . . who . . .”
Izz curls in on himself, into a protective ball, snuggling tighter into the blanket. Sinn'ous takes his place back beside the boy. Once more pressing their bodies together, willing his strength into the smaller body. Hand magnetised to the same rhythmic petting, circling over Izz’s back. He’s not even sure if the boy’s coherent enough to feel it.
Watching Izz closely for any signs of that catatonic state reappearing, he casts Reni from his thoughts entirely. And barely hears the screaming of the alarms telling the whole prison to return to their cells.
It takes no time at all for guards to be clanging doors, evicting inmates from incorrect cells, returning others who were locked out when all the cell doors automatically shut after the alarm.
Cunningham is on count for their line of cells, he spares Sinn'ous and Izz a considering once over. Then moves on to the next cell to count and evict anyone trapped in the wrong space.
~~~
Curled behind Izz, the boy tucked into his chest, and Sinn'ous’sback to the cell, blocking Izz between himself and the wall. A protective bubble he’s built around his boy in an attempt to calm his own rattled mind into some semblance of, if not sleep, than quiet.
Arm looped over Izz’s waist, tucked under him to bracket him close. He can’t find it in him to be on edge having his back to the room, a vulnerable position he does not put himself in, especially when he is not alone in the room. A flick of his eyes over his shoulder confirms that they are indeed sharing this space with one other.
“I’m not a fighter.” Izz’s muttering under his breath, words so quiet Sinn'ous has to strain to catch them. “I can’t protect myself. I’m a flight or freeze. A run or panic. I’m a failure as a man. A failure as a male in general.” A rambled salad he knows Izz did not mean to speak aloud.
Sinn'ous discovers himself offering up words of comfort. “Not everyone was born to fight, some were born to be protected. You have other skills,” he speaks quietly into Izz’s ear, to prevent Reni from overhearing.
Izz stiffens, and a near inaudible fog of words drifts out. “Oh . . . I hadn’t realised I’d spoken out loud. How much have I been muttering out loud?”
Again, it’s clear the words were not meant for Sinn'ous. And again, Sinn'ous replies.
“Don’t worry about it. Get some sleep. I’ll be right here.”
He can feel the burning eyes of Reni on his back. And even under the crawling unease of having anyone there, he stays exactly where he is.
Protecting Izz’s back.
Now and until forever, I am not letting you go.
You, Jasper Marcelo, are mine.
36
SINN'OUS
Sleeping in his arms, breathing even and soft, Izz’s the picture of peace. Soft and vulnerable, cradled in Sinn'ous’s embrace. So trusting. So in need of a strong guiding hand.
“What happened to him?” Reni’s words are flat, and in the otherwise silent cell, they’re a loud demand.
He tucks the boy in tighter to his chest, moving his legs to drape one over Izz’s thinner ones. If he could crawl under Izz’s skin to further protect him, he would in a heartbeat.
Sinn'ous’s lips move, forming syllables that have acid burning his oesophagus. “He was raped. I got there before any real damage was done.”
“If you fricking hurt him—”
