[Masterlist]

[Challenge]

Prompt: Phobia Exploited

cw: slavery whump, childhood trauma, abusive parent, childhood abuse - verbal and physical, astraphobia, panic attack, intimate whumper, forced exposure to trigger, handcuffs, hobbles, comforted by whumper.

taglist: @faewhump @inky-whump

~~~

Somewhere in the jungle a flock of birds takes off, screeching, as the low rumble of thunder sounds in the distance.

“A storm is coming,” Daniel states the obvious, looking out the window, his hand holding the fork frozen in mid-air. “First one in half a year, I believe. It’s gonna be loud, they’re really nasty here.”

Wren forces himself to swallow despite his throat tightening painfully, and he exhales, staring at his plate, his body tensing up. Another bite, just to finish the food as fast as possible and get up from the table, which is standing way too close to the windows.

The next thunder is louder, causing him to choke and jump in his chair.

“Something wrong?” Daniel asks, turning to look at him and frowning.

Wren shakes his head, avoiding eye contact, and goes back to eating, but his throat feels completely closed up, and he struggles to keep the next bite down.

He jolts in place when thunder roars again, accompanied by the sky lighting up for a second, and masks the movement by standing up abruptly.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” he exclaims and rushes out of the living room before Daniel has time to react.

Shit, shit, shit.

He curses his stupidity when he closes the bathroom door behind him and leans against it, taking a few shaky breaths; his idiotic hope that this planet wouldn’t have extreme weather, that he wouldn’t have to endure this on top of everything else; and yet here he is, close to tears in the bathroom, dreaded memories flooding back.

Another rumble and he jumps again and clamps his hand over his mouth as a quiet whine escapes his lips.

Shit.

He stumbles towards the sink and clutches the rim, steadying his breathing and splashing cold water on his face. One look in the mirror to make sure he doesn’t look too panicked, and he reluctantly decides to go back and act like everything’s alright.

“You’re scared of storms,” he hears when he enters the living room, his act ruined before he even has a chance to put it on.

“No,” he replies mechanically.

“Don’t lie to me.” Daniel’s smile grows wider, and Wren turns his eyes away.

“So what if I am,” he mutters after a few seconds; his head jerks up with another thunder and it takes all of his will not to whimper.

“Geez, kid, it’s just a sound.”

“It’s not like I can fucking control it, okay?” he spits, anger building up, because explaining his phobia to Daniel is the last thing he wants to do, ever. “So just leave me alone.”

He sits down on the floor in the middle of the room, because all available seats are way too close to windows; he brings his knees closer to his chest and sighs, chewing his lips anxiously.

“Is there like… a story behind this?”

The fuck are you expecting, a therapy session?

“No, there’s not.”

“Huh. Interesting.”

He glares at Daniel, not liking his tone in the slightest, and a knot forms in his stomach when he sees the man’s radiant smile.

“You know, I’m a strong believer in facing your fears.”

And there it is.

“No,” he repeats, the sudden realization that Daniel can turn this already shitty situation into something even worse making him feel as if he’s fallen into icy water.

“So,” Daniel muses, slowly getting up from the chair. “I think that you should spend a few hours outside.”

“The fuck is wrong with you?!” Wren growls and springs to his feet, taking a few steps back and wincing as another lightning hits.

“I just want to help you overcome this fear!” Daniel laughs, his arch smile putting his words in doubt. “If it’s completely irrational-”

“Okay, there is a fucking story behind it!” Wren yells, trying to mask his panic with anger, but the words come out almost hysterical, which only makes Daniel smile wider. “I got lost outside in a storm when I was eight! Happy now?!”

“Overjoyed. But I still think you should do it. You’re not a kid anymore.”

“Why don’t you fuck off just once!” he shouts and trembles, desperately searching for any argument to convince Daniel to give up on this stupid fucking idea. “Don’t you- Don’t you remember what happened last time I was outside?!”

“Don’t worry, kid, I reinforced the terrace after that incident.” He sounds so pleased with himself that Wren feels sick to his stomach. “Besides, I doubt any animal’s going to come here during a storm.”

Another thunder, another lightning, and Wren cries out, stumbling backwards.

“See? You can’t react like this for the rest of your life.”

“Fuck off,” Wren mumbles. “Fuck off, just fuck off.”

Everything is so loud, thunders getting more and more frequent, and he can’t even imagine how much worse it would get if he was outside; a low humming sound begins to ring in his ears, and when he blinks he sees slender trees devoid of leaves, and tears well up in his eyes before he can stop them.

“Please,” he chokes out. “Please, I-I can’t be outside. Please. Please.”

For a brief moment there’s complete silence between them, and Wren almost starts to hope that he’ll be allowed to stay inside after all.

Daniel quickly nips that hope in the bud.

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do.”

“No.”

“I’ll chain you up now, and if you’re good, you’ll spend the night on the terrace.”

“No.”

“But if you resist or keep refusing, I’ll tie you to the railing outside, no walls, no roof. So, which one will it be?”

His heart drops, heavy like a stone, and he starts trembling even harder.

“No, no, please…”

“It’s ridiculous how easy it is to make you beg sometimes,” Daniel chuckles, moving to retrieve one of the many sets of restraints he keeps around the house. “But these are your only two options. Now choose. And if I hear one more ‘no’, I’ll choose for you, and I’m really liking the second option.”

He can’t. He can’t be out there, he can’t be back there.

He has no choice, though. Not when Daniel has already made up his mind.

He sniffles and holds his shaking hands out, wrists close together, head lowered. 

I’m not going to be outside. There’s going to be a roof and walls and it’s going to be safe. If Daniel wants to risk it, it means there’s no risk in the first place.

But it’s not like he never tried to rationalize with his fears, and it’s not like he never tried to face them, just like he’s being made to now.

It never worked.

“Good boy,” Daniel praises him, putting handcuffs on his wrists and hobbles on his ankles. “See, you’re so good with the right motivation”

The next thunder sounds even louder than the others to Wren, and he closes his eyes shut for a moment, a teary yelp escaping him. Daniel chuckles and pushes him slightly, forcing him to walk. When he opens the door to the terrace, Wren takes a desperate step back, because it’s just so, so loud, and he’s there again, a terrified kid in the woods.

“No,” he whines and cringes as he realizes what he’s just said.

Now he’s going to be tied to the railing, with nothing shielding him from the storm, and he’s going to be soaked with rain, and lightnings are going to flash again and again over his head just like seventeen years ago.

Daniel doesn’t go through with his threat. Maybe he didn’t hear his protest, or maybe he decided to just let this one slide, Wren doesn’t know, but for a split second he feels grateful, as if the terrace is a less terrifying perspective.

Panic takes back over when Daniel pushes him gently outside.

“See you when the storm is over, kiddo.” The sound of the door closing seems to be even louder than the thunder.

“No!” Wren shouts out of pure instinct, and throws himself against the door, trying to push it back open, but it’s locked, of course it’s locked, and he sobs when there’s roaring thunder and the world lights up again.

He’s running through the forest, sobbing, his screams for help drowned out by the storm; he’s blinded by panic and keeps losing his balance, tripping over stones and roots, and the trees howl when he runs into them.

They were humming softly not long ago, and he’d poke their lilac bark with his finger over and over just to hear the pretty sound, mesmerized by how different and fascinating they were, slender, with twisted trunks and no leaves. Back then the forest seemed like a place straight out of a fairytale.

Now that fairytale has turned into a horror story.

He falls on the floor and curls up, forcing his head between his arms to muffle the sounds just a bit, but they seem to come from his brain, and he keeps sobbing, blinded by panic, stuck in a horror story.

He had been forced to be outside during a storm quite a few times, but it was never this bad.

The memories never felt this real.

“Dad?!” he screams, but the thunders are constant, deafening rumbling filling his ears and drilling into his brain. “DAD!”

When he arrived at the planet, it looked like paradise with its singing trees and peach-colored sky, nothing foreboding the weather breaking.

It happened so fast, the sky turned dark gray, and suddenly Wren found himself in the middle of a full-blown storm with ice-cold rain pouring down, soaking him to the bone, the sky lighting up over and over again, deafening thunders drowning out his every thought.

He managed to stay calm until the moment he realized that he’s completely lost, and his communicator with GPS has stopped working, the storm jamming the signal.

Then, panic seized him, and all he knows anymore is that he’s running, and that he can’t stop.

There’s a cracking sound and he screams when a huge branch lands a few meters from him.

There’s a cracking sound and he screams when he hears the chilling creaking of a tree starting to fall, and he waits for it to crush the house, the terrace, him, but he’s still here, still alive.

The tree must have fallen deep in the jungle, the sound only exaggerated by his panicked mind.

He’s going to die here, alone, and no one will ever find him. With the communicator dead he has no way of contacting his dad, and despite the adrenaline pushing him forward, he’s exhausted, tripping more often, and finally he falls down, unable to get up. He curls up on the ground and covers his ears with his hands.

He’s hyperventilating; he turns his head to the side and gulps air desperately, but he’s choking, and what if there’s no oxygen, what if storms here suck oxygen out of air.

He’s dying.

He’s dying.

They find him shortly after the storm passes.

As promised, Daniel comes to get him shortly after the storm passes.

He’s still curled up, a sobbing mess on the ground, and the forest is picturesque and silent again save for the gentle humming of trees. They help him to his feet and he manages to open his tired, red eyes only to start crying again.

“Dad!” he chokes out and stumbles forward towards him, and only then does he see his expression. Furious. Just furious. 

There’s a swift motion; his head jerks to the side, his cheek burning with pain from the hard slap, and he’s too shocked to make a sound.

Daniel helps him to his feet and he cringes with a quiet whimper, waiting for the hit, but it never comes.

“Fucking idiot,” Nathaniel Rackham hisses, grabbing his arm, and Wren stifles a pathetic yelp as he’s half-walked, half-dragged back to the base.

“I know,” he mutters, tears falling from his eyes.

Daniel scoops him up in a bridal carry without a word, and Wren feels something in him break as he’s carried inside.

He buries his face in Daniel’s shoulder as his body shakes with violent sobs.

“Stop crying.”

He wants to curse Daniel, to tell him that his stupid idea didn’t work, that it’s never going to work, but he’s not here, he’s not on SV-240, he’s on Canta again, a scared, betrayed child.

“You’re such a failure.”

He’s being carried upstairs, and he’s never been there - he never wanted to be there, because for all he knows the only room there is Daniel’s bedroom, a place he has only seen in his worst nightmares.

He sobs louder.

“Shhh, kid,” Daniel whispers.

“Shut up.”

He’s thrown on the metal floor back in the base and he cowers in fear, waiting for more pain, be it from another hit or another insult.

He’s carefully laid down on a soft bed, even softer than the couch, and he panics when Daniel’s hands disappear.

“No-” he mumbles and lets out a shaky sigh when the touch returns as Daniel removes the shackles, but it’s brief and he’s alone again, and everything is cold and uncaring like the forest during the storm, and he hears Daniel’s footsteps, he hears him leaving.

“No, please,” he whimpers, leaning against the doorframe, shrinking in on himself when another lightning strikes in the distance. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Grow up.”

“Daniel,” he croaks, and he hates himself for it, he hates showing vulnerability, he hates that his shitty childhood is catching up to him even here.

He hates Daniel, the man who caused him to be in this state.

But he can’t bear the thought of solitude.

“Hm?”

“I don’t want to be alone.”

There are no more words. Daniel sighs and lies down on the other side of the bed, close to Wren, who curls up and lets his eyelids drop. There’s a part of his mind that’s furious at him, at the state he’s in that made him ask Daniel to stay, as if he’s broken already.

But I am broken, he thinks and his sobs get quieter when Daniel wraps his arms around him. I’ve been broken for at least seventeen years.

He exhales slowly and presses his back against Daniel’s chest, ignoring every rational thought and every instinct as he feels his body slowly relax.

The memories are still fresh, the words still loud, sounds of thunder, humming and howling echoing in his mind, and right now all he cares about is making all of this disappear.

All he wants right now is to be held.

All he wants right now is to finally be given the comfort that’s seventeen years overdue.