Stay With Me?

Zeke stood in an alley not far from his restaurant. After Simon had told him where he lived, he had borrowed Diane's car and drove to the restaurant, before walking to the alley where Simon told him to meet him.

He saw a duffle bag land at his feet before he looked up and saw a figure in a dark hoodie step out of an apartment on the second floor and wave at him. Zeke raised his arms and motioned for him to jump.

"You'll catch me?" Simon called out in a low voice.

"Dude, I promise." Zeke said. "Jump. Don't think about it. I'll catch you."

He saw Simon sigh and then jump off the rusty fire escape. Zeke caught him easily. And in a moment of weakness, hugged him tightly.

Simon squirmed and hissed in pain, before Zeke freed him. "Sorry." Zeke said, blushing.

Simon looked up at him, his face partly hidden in the hoodie over his head. "Wow, you really are blond. And tall. And your eyes…wow."

"Told ya." Zeke said, grinning. Simon ducked his head and bent to pick up his duffle bag. Zeke took it from him and grabbed his wrist. "Come on."

They made it to the car without any incident. Zeke noticed Simon was limping but didn't say anything. Not yet.

"Thank you." Simon said. His voice was soft and sounded way better than he did over the phone. Zeke turned to look at him. He still had the hoodie over his head. Zeke reached tentatively and pulled the hoodie off his head.

His eyes widened.

Simon had a black eye and the side of his face was swollen. His lower lip was split and there was a large hand print on his neck. Simon swallowed hard and avoided looking at Zeke.

"You lied to me." Zeke said, anger burning in his chest.

"I-I didn't." Simon said, shakily, his eyes shiny. "I j-just never talked ab-about it."

Zeke closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "We need to tell someone, Simon."

"No!" Zeke jumped at Simon's outburst. "He'll kill me. He'll hurt-hurt…Oh God, this was a mistake. I have to go back." Simon started hyperventilating. "Oh fuck, I fucked up bad. Jon will kill me this time. He'll kill me."

"Hey, Simon. Calm down." Zeke said, softly. He grabbed his hands and rubbed his palms gently. "Calm down. It's OK."

Simon was already crying. "I-I'm n-not a victim. If we te-tell any-anybody, th-they'll s-say I'm a v-victim. A-And he'll find out. And then h-he'll k-kill m-me."

"I'll kill him if he touches you again." Zeke growled and Simon looked at him as if he was crazy.

"Don't be stupid, he's a cop."

Zeke shrugged. "So I'll go to jail."

Simon blinked then a chuckle escaped him. Then he started laughing and crying at the same time. Zeke stared at him helplessly.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry." Simon said, giggling and wheezing.

Zeke grabbed him by the shoulders and pressed his lips against his. Simon sucked in a breath and clutched at Zeke's wrists. Zeke tasted the blood on his lips and a low sound rumbled in his throat as he tasted Simon.

Pulling away, he found Simon staring at him wide eyed. "I'm sorry." Zeke muttered.

He didn't know why he even did that.

"No, it's-it's OK." Simon said, putting his fingers on his lips. "You h-have a…"

He gestured to Zeke's lip and Zeke rubbed his lip to find blood on his fingers. "I shouldn't have…"

"It's OK." Simon said, his voice calmer. "Better than a slap."

Zeke sucked his breath. "Simon, do you trust me?"

Simon nodded, his eyes on Zeke's face.

"Good." Zeke said, starting the car. "Leave everything to me."

*

Zeke winced when Simon clutched his hand tightly as Diane was fixing him up. His friend worked as a paramedic and that was the only person Zeke could think of to call.

"Your ribs are really bruised…I won't know for sure until we get an X-ray and I have done my best but I have to ask." Diane looked at Zeke. "Do you want him here? I have to ask some questions. Since you don't want to go to a hospital…"

Simon sighed and Zeke felt him release his fingers. "I'll be in the kitchen." Zeke murmured as he left the living room.

He wanted to hit something.

Zeke remembered the bruises and scars that covered Simon's torso. He was upset because Simon had not told him but on the other hand, how did someone even start talking about something this fucked up?

Simon had answered Diane's questions with his head bent, his brown wavy hair falling into his face. Zeke wanted to hold him close and never let him go. It was obvious Zion and the other police officers had no idea who Jon was. The man was a totally different person in public.

Zeke decided to make a sandwich while he waited for Diane and Simon. He had seen Simon's ribs protruding through his skin.

"Hey Zeke." He heard Diane say softly behind him. He turned and saw she had tears in her eyes.

"This is bad." She said. "We have to tell somebody. He-." She swallowed. "His boyfriend really hurt him. Like really, really bad. He needs to go to a hospital. This is beyond my expertise."

Zeke sighed. "You saw how he reacted when you suggested it, he won't go." Zeke rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Maybe…" he stopped. "I could call mom, but then Bella would know and we know she can't keep a secret. Zion would know and then Jon would know. And you know how well that would go…"

Diane swore. "I hate this. He's so…"

"I'll talk to mom." Zeke said, interrupting her. "That means I have to go back home."

"If you can convince him then do it." Diane said. "He needs all the help he can get."

Zeke nodded. "Thanks Di." He said, hugging her. "Just don't tell Bella. At least not yet."

"I don't tell my girlfriend everything, you know?" Diane said, picking up her bag and leaving the apartment, telling Simon she'd check up on him in a couple of days..

"She's nice." Simon murmured when Zeke came back with the sandwich and a bottle of water.

"She's alright I guess." Zeke said, absentmindedly. He watched as Simon pushed the plate away. "You have to eat something."

"I know." Simon said. "But I-I can't. I'll throw up."

"When was the last time you ate?" Zeke asked. Simon sighed.

"I had breakfast with Jon on Monday." Simon said matter-of-factly.

"That's like six days ago!" Zeke exclaimed. Fuck. "Dude, eat. Please. Let me take care of you." Zeke begged.

Simon sighed in annoyance. "Fine." He snapped. He grabbed the sandwich and eyed it. "No onions?"

"No onions." Zeke smiled.

"No mustard?"

"Dude, just eat." Zeke said, laughing. "I used to babysit my little brother and his friends. I know all the tricks."

Simon glared at him as he bit into the sandwich and chewed slowly. Then swallowed with difficulty. Zeke watched him as he took another bite. And another. Until he had eaten the entire thing. Zeke handed him the bottle of water. Simon drank the water and put the bottle down. "Happy?"

"Very much, yes." Zeke chuckled. "I want to suggest something. Don't freak out."

Simon curled on his side on the couch. "Yeah." He sounded tired.

"Di says you need to go to a hospital." Simon opened his mouth to protest. "Wait, wait. In Manhattan. My mom owns a clinic there. I'll tell her whatever you want me to tell her, but you have to go. He can't get to you. I promise."

Simon was silent. Then, "Where's your bathroom? I think I'm going to be sick."

Zeke grabbed his arm and took him to the bathroom where Simon knelt in front of the toilet bowl and threw up.

"I-I told y-you." Simon moaned, trying to glare at Zeke as much as he could.

*

"So…" Zeke said, after he had gotten Simon in bed. "My mom is a doctor…"

"No hospitals." Simon said weakly.

"Hear me out." Zeke said, sitting at the foot of the bed. "She owns a clinic. In Manhattan. Di says you need to see a doctor. A real doctor."

"But I'm fine." Simon said, sitting up. He hissed and grabbed his side.

"You're obviously not fine." Zeke said. "Look, I'll be with you the whole time. We'll tell her whatever you want. But you should know that my mom is like a bloodhound. She can smell a lie from miles away."

Simon looked down at his hands. "I-I'm…Jon will find me."

"He won't." Zeke said. "I will do everything in my power to make sure he doesn't touch you ever again."

Simon was quiet for a long time. Then, "What about your job?" he whispered. "If you take me to Manhattan, you'll miss work."

"Yeah, so?" Zeke asked. "Let's focus on you, OK?"

Simon sighed and looked at Zeke in the eye. "I'm not a victim."

"Never said you were." Zeke said. "I have never seen you as one."

"I just made a-a mistake." Simon said. "If I go to a hospital, they-they'll judge me."

"Just tell me who and I'll punch them in the face." Zeke winked and Simon choked out a laugh.

"Why are you doing this?" Simon asked, sobering. "I'm not-not worth it. I'm just some loser who…"

"You aren't a loser." Zeke said shifting closer. "Besides we're besties, remember?"

"But Diane…"

"Diane will be fine." Zeke said; smiling. "So, will you let me take you to my mom?"

"OK." Simon nodded. "You'll stay with me the whole time?"

"I promise." Zeke said.

Simon nodded again. Then yawned.

"Get some sleep." Zeke said, standing up. "You trust me, don't you?"

At Simon's nod, Zeke winked. "Then don't worry about anything."

*

"I'm going to see mom tomorrow." Zeke said later that night when he called Zion.

"Why?" Zion asked. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." Zeke lied. "Why do you think something is going on?"

"You haven't been to see mom in a while." Zion said dryly. "The last time, we had to practically drag you."

"Well, I miss my mommy." Zeke said in a mocking tone. "Is that a crime, officer?"

"Zeke…" Zion sighed. "I know you're hiding something, but I can't deal right now. Alex is mad at me for some reason."

"He hates Jon." Zeke blurted.

"Yeah, he and everyone else." Zion sighed.

"I have my own problems." Zeke said, "I don't have time to fix yours. So I'll call you from mom's tomorrow. Tell, Alex I said hi."

***

Simon sat up suddenly, disoriented. He looked around, wondering where he was. Then, slowly, the events of the last 12 hours came back to him and he sighed, sliding back under the duvet.

After three years with Jon, it was surreal. He had learnt to sleep lightly because, the slightest thing would set Jon off and he…Simon swallowed.

He was OK.

He was safe.

Zeke said he'd keep him safe. He promised.

The only thing giving him serious anxiety was the trip to Manhattan tomorrow. The first time Jon had hurt him, he had dragged his broken body to the Hospital back home and they were no help. Oh, they treated him, but he could hear them whispering when they thought he was asleep.

They thought he was pathetic.

A loser.

A pathetic faggot loser.

When he was stable, someone had called Jon. Simon thought he was going to die. Jon had yelled and pushed him around.

Simon squeezed his eyes shut. He felt tears leaking out of his eyes and rubbed them off his face furiously. He was always crying.

Why did he always have to cry?

He took slow breaths until he had calmed down. This was an opportunity to start over. Maybe he'd go back home to…he didn't even know if his mom wanted to see him. No, he wouldn't go home.

It wasn't like he could even afford to go anywhere. He had no job, no money, nothing of value.

He really was just a worthless, useless human being.

He sat up again and leaned against the headboard and hugged his knees. There was no way he was going to sleep again.

At least, Jon wasn't around to hurt him anymore.

That was progress.