Page 13 of Freedom
He didn’t approve of the Dixon camp, its practices, or most of the Dixons’ personalities, but what if they had been right this once? What if the excesses that probably killed more than their share of vanilla humans and harmless supernaturals also served to suppress the powers of a monster like Tobias?
Jake had rescued Tobias from inhumane treatment and torture with the best of intentions, but what happened when you took a monster out of Freak Camp?
Roger didn’t like it, but that didn’t change the world or what he’d seen. Life had taught him it was better to be safe than sorry (or, you know, disemboweled). So he might be a damn fool now for letting those boys keep road-tripping, bringing Tobias into contact with God knew how many people, when he could have Jake under his spell already or, for that matter, be doing something freaky without even being aware of it.
But Roger had let Jake go, so now he just had to hope they’d eventually swing his way so he could take his own look at Tobias. He didn’t know what he’d find—hard to imagine the kid he’d seen on the floor of that interrogation room standing in his living room or sitting next to Jake in the Eldorado—or what he’d do if hedidfind something. He hoped to God, for Jake’s sake, that there was nothing to find.
Chapter Three
Some nightmares blindsidedthem both.
As Tobias had gotten more comfortable with the outside world (or at least a little less paralyzed, less often brought to the edge of a panic attack by ordering breakfast), Jake had hoped Tobias’s nightmares would lighten up. Maybe only happen once a week instead of four or five times, or at least stop jerking him out of sleep, his throat raspy from withheld screams, whether he was in his own bed or beside Jake.
When it became clear that wasn’t going to happen, Jake realized how stupid he had been to think it would be that easy. For eleven years in that hellhole, Tobias had been terrified every fucking day of his life. And worse, he’d been so used to the pain, the fear, and the misery that it hadn’t even registered. It had been normal.
It hurt remembering their meetings over the years, how fuckingcalmTobias had been compared to how he was now. Jake had seen fleeting shades of terror over Tobias’s face—reserved for sightings of guards and hunters—and the familiar, utter blankness he’d tried his best to break, but it had never clicked for him that those two expressions hadn’t been just a bad day for Tobias. Those had been his life.
Jake still didn’t have all the stories; he didn’t know exactly what had gone on or if he could even handle knowing what had made Tobias like this. Could he keep joking with waitstaff, filling the Eldorado’s tank, coaxing Tobias to look him in the eye, if he knew? Didn’t the marks on Tobias’s body, the textures on his back that Jake felt even through Tobias’s T-shirt at night, tell him enough? For eleven years, those fucknuts had been free to do whatever they wanted to his wonderful, breakable Tobias, who had never been able to lift a finger to stop them.
Of course he was still terrified now; of course he didn’t believe he was really safe with Jake. Tobias didn’t know what safe was. And even if he said he felt safe with Jake, that didn’t mean his body or his subconscious, the parts of him that had been fucked up the worst, could believe that, now or ever. If Jake was honest with himself, he didn’t actually think he had what it took to fix that part of Tobias. Just because he would spend the rest of his life trying didn’t mean that it would be enough. But in the interest of getting through every day and giving Tobias the best he had, he tried not to think of the big picture, focusing instead on how many times he could wheedle Toby into smiling that day or help him relax a little more the next time they walked into a gas station. Things he could do. Places in Tobias’s life he could actually see improvements, day by day, because nighttime was completely out of his control.
The nightmares, like the panic attacks, became just another fucked-up routine. And when Tobias stopped trying to stifle his sobs and fretting about keeping Jake up, it felt better, more like they were dealing with this together and less like Tobias was suffering and Jake could do fuck all about it. Though in Jake’s opinion, Tobias was still too fucking quiet once he woke up.
Some nights, Jake reminded Tobias that he could tell him what he’d dreamed about, though he always stressed this wasn’t a rule or order. The PTSD book said that sometimes talking about the past and nightmares could help “lance the wound,” and Jake believed it after its advice about waking Tobias up had let Jake pull him out of more than one nightmare without causing a panic attack. And while the idea of hearing the details of Tobias’s nightmares was personally terrifying—Jake was pretty sure that Tobias’s nightmares could be his too with just a little prompting—he would do anything if it might help.
Tobias never took him up on the offer until a week after Roger’s call.
The night that changed Jake’s perspective on what he could and couldn’t do started like any other. Jake woke to Tobias’s steady whimpers (fucking awful noises, worse because they were half stifled, as though he didn’t dare scream) and his body twitching as he tried to curl in on himself. Jake sat up, tugging the sheet so it wasn’t tangled around Tobias, then rested his hand lightly on Tobias’s shoulder, calling his name steadily—and wasn’t that a fucking challenge, to keep his voice even when he wanted to scream and hurt something that existed only in Tobias’s head and the past.
His voice broke through all at once, and Tobias flinched away, pulling himself into a sitting position and dragging in ragged breaths, his face averted. Jake let him go; Tobias would let him know when he wanted to be touched.
“It’s all right,” Jake repeated, the same fucking hollow words he offered every night (of course it’s not fucking all right, nothing that happened to you can ever be made all right), but they were all he had. “You’re okay now. You’re out. We’re on the other fucking side of the country, Toby, and I’m never gonna let them touch you again.” He didn’t have much, but he could at least assure Tobias he wasn’tthereanymore.
Tobias shuddered, dropping his face into his hands as his breaths broke into sobs.
Shit. Jake tried to wait for Tobias to reach for him before putting his hands all over the kid, but at times like this, when Jake wasn’t sure if Tobias was hearing him at all, he couldn’t stand to watch Tobias locked alone in his own head. Jake drew closer, rubbing his palm lightly over his shoulders, trying not to think about the furrowed skin beneath the fabric.
