heart in a cage

and niall pictures young ruben and wants to cry all over again 💔

sometime after ruben gets out of prison (the first time) and starts getting better, actually building a “presentable” life for himself, getting his first job that pays reasonably well (maybe just before mona comes back into his life, so he’s probably still fucking around a bit at this point), he is in his apartment, alone, it’s late at night, he gets a phone call from an unknown number and something deep inside him stirs, knows who it’s gonna be, he picks up anyway, freezing as he hears the familiar voice, already feeling bile creep up his throat, but he swallows it, swallows everything else too, despite himself. what is he so afraid of? at this point, he is ten times stronger, faster and probably more intelligent than the old man by now, so what’s the big deal? he is far away, he can’t hurt him anymore, so fuck him.

“what do you want?”

“oh good, it’s really you.”

who else, idiot?

“I’m not gonna repeat myself…”

“listen, son, i jus’ wanna talk… catch up a wee bit. hear how you’ve been.”

“good. aces.”

“good.”

it’s as awkward as it can be and ruben almost wants to laugh, his body going slipping into hyperventilation without him noticing.

“where did you get this number?”

maura probably gave it to him. who else could have told him?

“why did you pick up?”

good fucking question. although he couldn’t have known for sure, he’d always known this day would eventually come. ruben can feel the scar cutting through his eyebrow throbbing, a dull pain deep inside his brain, memories trying to creep their way up into consciousness, but he doesn’t let them.

“did you miss me?”

for a brief moment, his breathing stops. he is bigger than him, could kill him, if he was standing in front of him now, he really could.

“fuck you.”

“there he is, my boy. feisty as ever, always were.”

his body starts to shake uncontrollably, the hand holding the phone trembling. he wants to scream, cry, do anything rather than just being forced to listen, but his voice gives out, he has nothing to say but wants to say everything. he could hang up anytime he wanted, he really could.

“i know you’re working that job on the new construction site just outside of town, big new project for those posh cunts. pays well, i hear. proud of ya.”

how could he know? not even maura knows exactly where he works. did he ask around? had he been looking for him? but even worse than the fact that he knows where ruben works is the question that slowly starts to creep into his mind: where is he?

“dunno what you’re talking about.”

“you do, don’t fuck with me, boy.”

“what is it to you? what do you want?”

his body is stiff as a board, frozen in place, he can feel his heart beating through his chest, forehead and palms sweaty, invisible fingers trailing over the back of his neck, hovering just short of closing around it.

“you know why i called.”

he does.

“i want to see you, rube.”

ruben swallows, doesn’t say anything. he still hasn’t hung up, why hasn’t he hung up?

“just one pint. friday night, what d’you say?”

he wants to say no, what else? what sort of question is that? how can he seriously think he wants to see him after all this time, after everything that’s happened, and ever since this thing has started rattling around in his head, starting to rot like mould on a strawberry.

“when?” ruben doesn’t recognize his own voice, doesn’t understand the word that just came out of his mouth. it probably isn’t his own mouth that’s been saying that, can’t be.

“seven?”

he hesitates.

“the anchor, corner of sauchiehall street and garnet street?”

“okay.” and that’s it. he hangs up. finally. no big deal.

for a while, he stares at the phone in his hand, watches the screen go black, the fizzing of his overworked synapses keeping time with the flicker of the fluorescent lights.

the phone slips from his hand. he presses his fists against his eyes, as if he could force the images out, squeeze them from his head and flush them down the drain. gone. forever.

more than anything, he wants bambi here. despite all that he’s done, all that they’ve been through, in this moment, ruben doesn’t care. Just wants to see those big doe eyes again, his soft face, a hand he can hold, his slight, scrawny body pulled against him until it doesn’t hurt anymore, until he can breathe again, until he no longer feels like he’s going to be sick, until he punches a wall so hard flesh breaks open, knuckles crushed.

what have i done, niall? what have i done?

why did he let him lure him into his trap? hasn’t he learned his lesson? hasn’t he got any fucking wiser? he really thought he wouldn’t make the same mistakes, but here he is, the same stupid boy who can’t manage to breathe evenly beneath his duvet at night, pretending to be asleep while the dark, looming figure is already peering through the door gap into his room, waiting for him to give himself away. to make a mistake, let him know he’s still awake, to draw breath too quickly, shift beneath the covers, blink.

oh my god this was absolutely heartbreaking!! ruben’s dad calling him rube and wanting to see him, and ruben falling into that trap again after all those years and wanting to hold niall’s hand for comfort?? SOBBING 😭 god, i could literally envision this happening in the show. and how devastating would that be if ruben’s dad invites himself back to ruben’s place and then ruben finds himself in his bed with his father again. getting groped. getting assaulted. and he tells himself he shouldn’t want this but he’s been so lonely and touch-starved and his father is being so kind him to him right now. affectionate. calling him a good boy and telling him to relax and let his father take care of him.

then it becomes an at least once a month thing.

ruben tries to tell his father to stop on multiple occasions but his dad is so persistent and can still overpower him and it’s so manipulative now because in the past his father could be so cruel during the assaults (but the rare times, he could be tender too) and since they met up after ruben’s been released from prison, his father has never been mean. yet. just forceful, telling ruben he wants his father, needs his father—and ruben feels that sharp curl of shame sprouting in his gut like he’s just a boy again. because he’s hard, panting, whining and whimpering, making needy little noises and already so close to climax beneath his father’s terrible touch and attention.

instead of niall pulling up to ruben’s house and seeing ruben kissing mona, what if he had seen that through the living room window: ruben sitting in his father’s lap, his father’s arm around his waist to hold him in place, his father’s hand between his legs, a far off look on his face, his red cheeks wet with tears, and then there’s noise outside so he looks—and there’s his bambi looking in at him. watching him be assaulted. watching his father assault him—and he probably looks like he likes it. because there’s no knife to his throat forcing him here. just his father’s overpowering presence. and ruben wonders if niall even remembers what ruben’s father looks like, or if niall thinks he’s just with some random man. but he doesn’t want niall to see him like this; getting groped by his father. so he tries getting up, tries escaping his father’s hold—but his father gets angry like he used to all those years ago and ruben panics, feels like a boy all over again.

niall sees his father start beating on him, kicking him, stomping on his face once or twice—and then niall connects the dots, thinking about how ruben had stomped in alby’s face just like that the day after talking about hisbfather when he was high; the only time he felt comfortable talking about him to niall; niall thinks that’s probably what he wanted to do to his father all those years ago but alby was there, and his fuse was already short). and niall sees ruben’s face now, it’s all bloody and probably gonna bruise, and he hears ruben’s father yelling, spitting in ruben’s face—and he hears ruben’s hoarse little cry of daddy, and his heart sinks because ruben sounds so small and hurt, curled up on the floor.

niall doesn’t know what to do, but he knows he needs to save his brother so he still rips off the hood ornament on ruben’s car and makes the alarm go off but he hides in the bushes and sees ruben’s father book it the hell outta there. leaving ruben all alone on the living room floor. bloody and whimpering but not moving an inch.

what if ruben age-regressed and this was their first meeting after all those years apart—and niall doesn’t expect ruben to sound so small when calling out for him. bambi. and niall doesn’t expect ruben’s eyes to get all watery or for him to want niall close.

so, niall is standing awkwardly in the hallway that leads to the living room, where the horror had happened only minutes ago, it could very well have been ages ago, and ruben is still on the floor, bloodied and miserable, wincing as he tries to sit up against the back of the sofa, slowly pulling his jeans back up, not looking at niall. he feels like he might never be able to look at him again.

“ru- ruben? are you okay…?”

niall knows he’s not, he must know by what he had just witnessed. ruben knows niall is no idiot, but instead of admitting, he plays it cool, at least tries to, but when ruben speaks, his voice fails him, “never been better.” he supresses a cough, which sounds more like he is just about to vomit and now he might actually vomit, because suddenly all his senses are activated again and he can smell it all, the liquor in his mouth from another tongue, the familiar aftershave mixed with cigarettes and sweat, and the undeniable stench of sex. he remembers. nothing has changed, not even the smell. bile starts to rise in his throat, and he doesn’t make it to the bathroom, doesn’t want to. after what has just happened, and happened before in this room, he wants to burn the whole house down to get rid of it all, of himself.

“ruben…”

he didn’t even realize his bambi crouching down beside him, a voice he knows better than his own right now, closer than before. only when slender fingers slightly brush against his shoulder, does ruben flinch.

“fuck off…” it was intended as a command, a harsh bark, but it’s barely above a whisper, new tears already welling up inside his eyes and throat, drowning the words until there is nothing left to say. 

“ruben, i am so sorry…”

it’s hearing his own name from those sweet, innocent lips, because even after all those years and after everything he did to ruben, he’s still his bambi, untainted by the world, the only sacred thing left in his life and he wants to hold on so desperately, wants to cling to him and never let go. so he does. his big arms, feeling weak, manage to close around the meek body of his brother, and he inhales him, head buried in the crook of his neck, trying to override all the other smells, all the dirt that clings to him. ruben knows he’s disgusting, knows fine well that he doesn’t deserve to be held by a fragile and soft creature like his bambi, but his bambi does it anyway, rubs slow circles on his back, even dares to slide a hand to the back of his neck and that does it. Ruben’s body goes limp, breaking down in niall’s arms, his jeans not fully pulled up, his erection still twitching a few times, maybe it’s some kind of aftershocks, he tells himself, it’s his fucked-up body reacting to stimulation.

his sobs sound disgusting, but niall doesn’t seem to care, doesn’t mind holding his pathetic older brother in his arms after witnessing what no man should ever witness or experience or go willingly back to, but here they are. 

“i need you,” ruben whispers against niall’s neck and niall hugs him tighter, like wanting to shield him from every evil waiting outside, but the evil is already inside his brother, and niall understands then that he can’t protect what is already shattered to pieces.

“i’m here, i’m here and i will not go away, promise.”

and niall pictures young ruben and wants to cry all over again 💔

sometime after ruben gets out of prison (the first time) and starts getting better, actually building a “presentable” life for himself, getting his first job that pays reasonably well (maybe just before mona comes back into his life, so he’s probably still fucking around a bit at this point), he is in his apartment, alone, it’s late at night, he gets a phone call from an unknown number and something deep inside him stirs, knows who it’s gonna be, he picks up anyway, freezing as he hears the familiar voice, already feeling bile creep up his throat, but he swallows it, swallows everything else too, despite himself. what is he so afraid of? at this point, he is ten times stronger, faster and probably more intelligent than the old man by now, so what’s the big deal? he is far away, he can’t hurt him anymore, so fuck him.

“what do you want?”

“oh good, it’s really you.”

who else, idiot?

“I’m not gonna repeat myself…”

“listen, son, i jus’ wanna talk… catch up a wee bit. hear how you’ve been.”

“good. aces.”

“good.”

it’s as awkward as it can be and ruben almost wants to laugh, his body going slipping into hyperventilation without him noticing.

“where did you get this number?”

maura probably gave it to him. who else could have told him?

“why did you pick up?”

good fucking question. although he couldn’t have known for sure, he’d always known this day would eventually come. ruben can feel the scar cutting through his eyebrow throbbing, a dull pain deep inside his brain, memories trying to creep their way up into consciousness, but he doesn’t let them.

“did you miss me?”

for a brief moment, his breathing stops. he is bigger than him, could kill him, if he was standing in front of him now, he really could.

“fuck you.”

“there he is, my boy. feisty as ever, always were.”

his body starts to shake uncontrollably, the hand holding the phone trembling. he wants to scream, cry, do anything rather than just being forced to listen, but his voice gives out, he has nothing to say but wants to say everything. he could hang up anytime he wanted, he really could.

“i know you’re working that job on the new construction site just outside of town, big new project for those posh cunts. pays well, i hear. proud of ya.”

how could he know? not even maura knows exactly where he works. did he ask around? had he been looking for him? but even worse than the fact that he knows where ruben works is the question that slowly starts to creep into his mind: where is he?

“dunno what you’re talking about.”

“you do, don’t fuck with me, boy.”

“what is it to you? what do you want?”

his body is stiff as a board, frozen in place, he can feel his heart beating through his chest, forehead and palms sweaty, invisible fingers trailing over the back of his neck, hovering just short of closing around it.

“you know why i called.”

he does.

“i want to see you, rube.”

ruben swallows, doesn’t say anything. he still hasn’t hung up, why hasn’t he hung up?

“just one pint. friday night, what d’you say?”

he wants to say no, what else? what sort of question is that? how can he seriously think he wants to see him after all this time, after everything that’s happened, and ever since this thing has started rattling around in his head, starting to rot like mould on a strawberry.

“when?” ruben doesn’t recognize his own voice, doesn’t understand the word that just came out of his mouth. it probably isn’t his own mouth that’s been saying that, can’t be.

“seven?”

he hesitates.

“the anchor, corner of sauchiehall street and garnet street?”

“okay.” and that’s it. he hangs up. finally. no big deal.

for a while, he stares at the phone in his hand, watches the screen go black, the fizzing of his overworked synapses keeping time with the flicker of the fluorescent lights.

the phone slips from his hand. he presses his fists against his eyes, as if he could force the images out, squeeze them from his head and flush them down the drain. gone. forever.

more than anything, he wants bambi here. despite all that he’s done, all that they’ve been through, in this moment, ruben doesn’t care. Just wants to see those big doe eyes again, his soft face, a hand he can hold, his slight, scrawny body pulled against him until it doesn’t hurt anymore, until he can breathe again, until he no longer feels like he’s going to be sick, until he punches a wall so hard flesh breaks open, knuckles crushed.

what have i done, niall? what have i done?

why did he let him lure him into his trap? hasn’t he learned his lesson? hasn’t he got any fucking wiser? he really thought he wouldn’t make the same mistakes, but here he is, the same stupid boy who can’t manage to breathe evenly beneath his duvet at night, pretending to be asleep while the dark, looming figure is already peering through the door gap into his room, waiting for him to give himself away. to make a mistake, let him know he’s still awake, to draw breath too quickly, shift beneath the covers, blink.

Mona said last night she wants to start teaching dance classes.

THIS SHIT WORKS OKAY, I AM DEAD SERIOUS.

The last time I saw this on my dash, I didn’t think it would happen, so jokingly I wished I could go to a fun. concert.

AND GUESS WHAT, I WENT TO A FUCKING FUN. CONCERT.

I SAW THIS ON MY DASH THE OTHER DAY AND THOUGHT “ITS WORTH A TRY” SO I WISHED I COULD GET A 3DS

LITERALLY LIKE 4 DAYS LATER MY DAD SENT ME A PICTURE OF THE 3DS XL HE BOUGHT FOR ME WHILE I WAS AT SCHOOL

GUYS.

HE FUCKING CALLED ME 20 MINUTES LATER

20 FUCKNG. MINUTES. LATER.