Page 39 of Falsifier

Returning to my new bedroom is like permission to breathe, and I brush my teeth while staring out of the window.

With the window wide open and the curtains apart, I lie on the bed and stare up at the clear night sky. I love falling asleep watching the stars, but they seem brighter from here, without all the light pollution that usually surrounds me. Somehow it tricks my mind into thinking my life is brighter now.

Chapter twenty-eight

Porter

I'vebeenwokenagainby something. It's been making me restless for the last half an hour but I'm only just waking enough to recognise the sound. It's similar to Mum when she was trying to sleep without a fix. When she wailed and moaned, swearing she was going to die, but too deep in the withdrawals to do anything about it. Lying in bed, pretending I couldn't hear her would only save me until morning. Eventually I'd give in and call her dealer. I was always the one who gave her what she wanted. I tried to resist helping her, but it was easier to give in and get her the drugs. She'd become the semi-lucid person I know and love, who at least recognised me as her son.

But not anymore. Now I have Knox to deal with all the difficulties in life. I roll over and press my body against his, always finding comfort in the act of just being close.

It reminds me that I am here with Knox, not at home with Mum. She is in rehab somewhere, hopefully far away on the other side of the country. No longer my problem.

So, I shouldn't hear her crying in the night.

Curiosity makes me sit and listen.

The murmuring is getting louder and I'm certain it's next door.

It's Nico.

I'm drawn from my bed, but I think about pyjamas first. Checking on him without being clothed is a level of trauma he'll never be ready to deal with.

Nico is in the room right next door to ours. I was worried about him being so close, with me not being quiet when we… yeah.

But I'm glad he's close enough for me to hear him.

The bathroom light is off, making the hallway dark and foreboding. I wonder if it is sleeping alone or facing the bathroom that is causing him to dream so fretful.

"Nico?"

His room is dimly lit by a nightlight by the bed. Knox was right to think of it to save the poor boy from being in complete darkness. I make my way over to where he tosses on the bed, wrapped up in his covers.

"Nico?" My questioning doesn't stir him, so I try the bedside light.

"Nico, you're dreaming. It isn't real."

"Dreaming?" Nico mutters without opening his eyes.

"Yes, I'm sorry." I lean closer, unsure if he wants a hug or space.

"They said to me…" Nico sits up, but his whimpers of pain encourage me to help him. "I don't know what they said to me."

He looks around the room, as if the voices were real enough to be here.

"What do you remember?" I shouldn't ask, I should encourage him to forget it, or Bury it, but anything that could help with who or why will help him heal from this.

"There was a car, and it turned and turned, and a bridge. To a bar and stood in the sun. And a man called Rich." Nico throws himself into me. "In my dream, they were tying rope around me and saying… that… But it does not make sense."

"You are here now, and you are safe. That's all we need to worry about. I'll tell Knox what you remember, and he'll sort it out."

"Will you tell him in the morning? Will you stay now with me?"

"Of course." I slide in the single bed beside him, straightening his covers so we're both under it.

"Can I…" Nico curls towards me. "Is this OK?"

"Come here." I pull him closer and snuggle in against him. I melt into Knox each night, but this time I have to be the big spoon. I prefer it the other way around, but feeling Nico relax against me makes me feel important. I am doing good and helping another boy who needs saving. A few months ago, I couldn't even help myself and now I am…

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