Broken Pieces

Chapter Three

By Roofles

This is an Intense Chapter. Warning now.

This writing style is purposefully strangely written to get into the character's mindset, just for this chapter.

Peanut butter was always my favorite treat, or so you said. I know you couldn’t afford anything more than that. Growing up there, in that trailer park next to our field… I never asked about it, and you never told me, but I knew just how poor you were.

And I never held it against you, for, in the end, I could be your Peanut Butter and your favorite treat. I could be there for you. Provide for you as no one else in your life ever could.

“Your arms around me create the PB sandwich!” Peanut giggled as the human held him from behind, cradled in his arms as the young wolf cuddled against his chest, nuzzling under his chin with his snout. “You’re the bread to my peanut butter! Nutty peanuts, that is.”

And they giggled and laughed together as PB fell back on top of the human, making him squirm. Together in the field, they called their own.

I recall how happy I was then, there, with you.

The human spoke. He was telling him something. Yelling at PB for something he did, as the nutty brown wolf just laughed. He was teasing his dear friend. He loved getting them worked up like this. Then they’d smell all the nicer. They’d push him and touch him.

And PB loved that. Feeling those hands on his body. It made him shiver with delight, his fur standing up. It took months to figure out why that was. But once he knew, PB knew he’d always be happy with those hands touching him.

“PB…”

They said something, but I couldn’t… my ears couldn’t hear you. Did I forget them? The words didn’t matter, just that you were there. Right…? That we were together? That’s all that matter—no one else but us.

“Nah,” PB replied with a yip. “Don’t worry about it, -. I got your back! Nothing bad will happen while I’m around, I promise. I promise, -.”

My voice was still deepening, my puppy-like qualities fading away to show the real me. Who I really was. My real me… and you didn’t pull away when you saw it, saw me for who I was. For what I was. When you saw the me that I desperately tried to have others see! You were the only one to still smile at me.

“You’re right, you’re right.” The nutty brown color-furred wolf just nodded along as they replied to him.

You were the only one. You were the only one. Were you the only one… weren’t you? Why can’t I say your name?

“Lunch is going to be over soon. We better hurry. Hey, hey now! Where do you think you're going? Got to pay the toll…. What toll? You know the one!” PB just giggled; his face hurt from smiling so much. He smiled so much these days. “Just give me a kiss. What? You can trust me… got cha’!” And PB pounced on the human, holding them tight.

Being the peanut butter for their sandwich.

I liked to do that. To agree with you.

Because it made you happy.

And made you smile.

Your laugh was everything to me.

“That is a little on the nose,” there was a moment’s pause.

I liked to do that. To build the tension, the drama between us. Waiting for that very last second to jump out. Even if you knew what was coming next. But still, I loved to surprise you.

“Brown nose!” And the wolf yipped again, giggling as the human gave me a squeeze. “My brown nose!” He had been so happy then. So full of hope, hope for a future for the two. “You love my brown nose. Especially when I brown nose you- ow, hey – that hurt!” But he just smiled.

It hurt to smile this much. PB couldn’t help himself, laughing so hard.

I wish I could’ve just been that for you. A dog. A stray. A nobody. Not part of a pack, not part of… them… Then we could’ve been together… right?

But it hurt more when the smiles stopped…

I had tears in my eyes.

Teasing you like this, playing with you, and being with you were all I ever wanted and cared for. The world itself could slip away when we were together like this. Our PB sandwich. I always want to…

“Isn’t that, right?” PB just asked and got no reply. “-? Do you get it?” He turned to see that the human wasn’t there. He wasn’t there anymore… “-! Hey, where are you?” And PB was all alone.

PB tried to perk his ears, but he couldn’t. He tried to sniff the air but found his nose wasn’t working correctly. Something was wrong. He couldn’t hear his voice anymore… his vision and eyes didn’t seem to be working properly. Everything was fuzzy, off… Half his vision was missing as he desperately tried to stand, reaching out blind for a hand he couldn’t find.

“Where are you? Please, I need help. I. Where. You?”

He, I, was trying to get to his, my, feet.

My left leg gave out, and I fell, he fell hard enough that PB could feel his teeth getting knocked out of his muzzle. That acrid taste of iron filled his mouth. PB reached for them with too few fingers; something wasn’t right. It hurt. This hurt. I hurt…

Where are you?

Where were you?

I can’t seem to see anything. I can’t hear anything. All I smell is blood.

Why did you leave me to this torment?

Then the first blow came. It was like a brick being smashed against his leg, and searing pain shot through his body as he cried out. Only for his muzzle to be snapped shut, PB bit his tongue hard enough to taste blood. They were on him. Holding him, strangling him. PB couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see as a swarm of furry bodies descended on him like ravenous crows.

Please, don’t. Stop. Stop. I can’t. Please, I begged and yelled and pleaded against the blows. The hits. The blood. It poured from my face, my body, like bloody tears as I tried to cry out for you.

The pain was so intense, so ruthless, that PB pissed himself. And he coughed, curling up on himself as he held his stomach as drool and blood dribbled from his muzzle. And that pain still couldn’t match what would happen next.

Please, don’t go…

Don’t go where I can’t…

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. It was a bad joke, -.” PB tried to reach for him, for that face, that human that didn’t have a face.

It was so dark without you. It hurt without you.

Someone kicked him onto his back, and PB instinctively curled up, showing off his belly in submission to the others who wouldn’t accept his out. Accept the metaphorically white flag of a wolf showing their belly after losing a fight. They still surrounded him, circled him, closing in on the wolf forced to curl up and take this beating.

I called for you. I tried to shout your name.

“Where are you? Why aren’t you here? Why aren’t you here…?” PB curled into a ball as the blows came—one after another. Kicks were hitting his sides. Someone scratched down his back. Another wolf bit his arm. They threw rocks at me.

I’m sorry.

“Peanut Butter, Peanut Butter Baker’s man!”

I tried to shut them out, covering the ears I didn’t have with hands that didn’t even feel like my own. They had too few fingers to be mine. What happened to my nails? Why… why couldn’t you…

“Bake me a cake, as fast as you can!” PB hated that nursery rhyme. He used to love the way his mother sang it to him. Back when she still could see him. Just as he couldn’t see the one he was reaching for.

“I miss your voice.” The way you sang it to me.

The way you sang it to me, even teasingly. I loved it when you sang. I know they picked on you for it. Teased you, bullied you, hurt you… but I stopped them. I made sure no one could hurt you. You were a treasure, a light, in that place. School? Home? Life…? You were the most wondrous of things. And I loved it when you sang.

Because, when you sang, you sang for me…

“Pat it and prick it, and mark it with a P. Pat it and brick it, hit it, and smack it. Step on it and punch it. Kick him. Bite him. And mark it with a P!”

Stop, no, please. I’m sorry, Alpha. I’m sorry, please, someone! Anyone, make them stop!

The pain was blinding. It was hot like molten lead as the blood ran freely from underneath his thick brown pelt. The dirty ground hungrily drank up his fresh blood. It was so red in the light of the bonfire that night.

“Put it in the oven for – and me….”

Stop! He won’t want me anymore. He won’t want me after what you’ve done to me! I’m ugly. I’m filthy… I know I’m pathetic and weak. I know I’m a runt but-but he… he wanted me anyways…

“Pat it and break it, shatter it and make it… as fast as you can. Run as fast as you can. Mark it with a P… Mark it with a B… Mark him with pee. Mark him with a beating. Mark it… Mark him… humiliate him. Ruin him. Break him… to the point that nobody will want him….”

Please, he can’t… he can’t see me like this. I don’t want to take away his smile.

There was shouting all around. Bodies were moving, yelling and laughing, barking and howling as PB tried to cover his face, whimpering pitifully before the pack. The pack that had surrounded him. Hurt him. Beat him. They humiliated him at their Alpha’s command.

All because he wanted to be with a human.

Please, I don’t want him to stop singing for me…

“Mark him!” Someone cackled, zipping down their pants.

He won’t want me…

The hot trickle of urine hit his nose. That sharp acrid smell of it hit him just as hard as the kick that followed up after. PB coughed, tasting that piss, tasting the dirt of the ground. Tasting his blood. All he could hear were their laughs, their mocking, hateful laughs...

“Mark him! Beat him! Break him!”

As fast as you can…

“Break him,” for Alan… “Mark him,” for Alan. “He’s not here, so you’ll get double the beating!”

He should’ve shared it then with me…

“It’s that human’s fault you’re like this! It wouldn’t be this bad if he were here too!”

They were right.

They laughed as the Alpha sat nearby, watching with a smile. “All his fault!”

If only he could share in, half, of this abuse. To share this beating with me.

“Where is he!” The Alpha roared out, standing up now as he closed in on the shriveled-up, soaking-wet wolf covered in piss and blood. “Tell me where he is, and I’ll stop here. You can still come back to us. Just let us make him pay for what he did to you….”

No. Don’t. I can’t let them find Alan. I can’t let them hurt him. I can’t… I can’t do anything… All I can do is this…

“He’s not coming back….”

I wish he were here…

“He wouldn’t want you. A broken piece of nothing.” The Alpha crouched down, lifting PB by one of his ears. Mauler, the current Alpha, sneered into his face, his nose turning at the pungent smell. “Filthy. Pathetic. Weak. You always were a failure.”  

I wish I’d die…

“Mark him with a P….” And his ear tore off as Mauler stood up, throwing the wet mass of fur and skin to the side. “Break him.”

I wish he’d share this pain with me…

“Mark him with a B….”

It hurts so much. When does the pain stop? Am I… going to die?

“And make it ready… Make it ready, for Alan and Me….”

Alan…

…

PB’s eyes opened to the soft rays of sun slipping through the white sheets hung over the window. They were a pale blue, thin enough to let the rays of light slip through, illuminating the room in a pale blue glow.

Must’ve been the next morning?

He didn’t wake with a start, a yelp, a whine, or anything… PB simply opened his eye, and there he was. Alive. Alive as one could be after what happened. Not even a whimper escaped the light, nutty brown-furred wolf lying in the medical bed on the hospital's third floor.

PB felt so tired.

He was in the city, that much he knew. Outside the window, there was traffic, and the buildings rose all around him. They didn’t have that near the hill their mansion was on. Or near the trailer park Alan lived at. This had to be the city. Then, how did he get here? The buildings were so tall. They were threatening to break the window and close in around him.

Closing in on him and PB shuddered, turning away. He didn’t have the strength to run.

It took him five minutes to calm down, cracking open an eye to see nothing had happened. His breath was uneven and ragged as he looked around the room. PB wanted to call out but was afraid too.

The room was bare bones, at best. There was the bed he was in. A simple medical bed with thin white linen sheets. It looked as if someone had used the chair in the corner. The seat was sunken in, and one arm was scratched to hell. A heart monitor was connected to his arm, and that was… it. There weren’t any flowers or balloons. There wasn’t even a TV. There were no signs of life as the wolf stared blankly up at the ceiling above.

It seemed fitting.

The room was as empty as PB felt inside. He took a breath and could barely feel the air fill his lungs. It didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt. He just felt numb… numb to everything as he finally cracked his dry, broken lips to say a single word.

A word that had been lurking in the back of his throat. Scared to say it. Scared to be heard. And afraid, even more, for someone to answer him.  

“Alan?” PB asked so softly he couldn’t even hear it.

The first words out of his mouth felt like shards of glass scrapping their way from his sandpapery throat. It hurt. Saying that single word, that single name, hurt PB more than his bloody raw throat did, and he felt the tears build up as he wanted to say it again. And again. And again. Despite the pain, it caused him. His chest tightened, and his throat closed.

All he wanted to do, at that moment, was to call out for the name and yet, knowing that if he did… it would hurt him.

That single word, that single name, hurt him…

“Alan…?”

Yet he did. He fought through the pain, even with the hot tears fell.

“Alan?” He whined.

It hurt so much.

“Alan, please…” He tried once more. Only silence met his ears, and he choked back as he tried to fight to appear strong. As he’d been taught to do. Wolves don’t cry in the pack. They must always appear strong and dominant over the other races out there.

Please, don’t leave me…

There was no reply.

I can’t… please…

No reply for the whine that escaped the battered, beaten, and broken wolf that struggled to lift even a single arm to reach out for the human he’d come to know, love, and cherish more than his own life…

“Alan…?” PB mouthed the words, trying to reach out for him.

If not for him, then who? Who did he have… PB had no one. He was technically an adult, just turning eighteen last fall. He was on his own, and he could do nothing at that moment, not even crawl out of bed as a choking whine escaped his throat.

“Alan…? Anyone…?” PB tried, but he did. He tried so hard for so long as the sun slowly moved across the sky.

No one came…

Whining out for someone. Anyone. It hurt as the pain medication began to leave his system, and it all began slowly to return.

“Alan…?” And still, despite it all, PB came back to that name. That single word. Holding onto it as tightly as he could as his body began to shake and the heart monitor to his side increased rapidly.

It hurt.

It hurt not to hear an answer to his whining.

Not his body, but inside. Somewhere deep inside him, it hurt. Hurt to think of him. Hurt to call out for him. As if afraid if he did, they would find him again. Afraid of what would happen if Alan heard him. What would he do when he saw the wolf like this?

The wolf mouthed the words his body refused to say. Fear tightened his throat just as that pain inside constricted his heart.

If he called out, if he, his human, heard him… then they would too.

“Alan…”

They’ll find me.

“Please…” PB closed his eye, whining once more.

I need to stop. If they find me again. This time I really will…

“I’m sorry,” PB felt his body convulse, felt it all as he sobbed silently in the empty hospital room, all alone. “I’m sorry for being a bad wolf….” PB tried to stop himself, but his body reacted on its own. His mouth moved, but the words wouldn’t come out. “Sorry for being a bad boyfriend. Sorry for everything….”

They had taken so much from him and given him much more in return.  

Fear. It filled his body like poison. It made it hard to breathe, think, or even call out for the one person who should’ve been there for him.

They had conditioned him. That beating, that humiliation… The Alpha had won. He had gotten exactly what he had wanted from them. From him. PB wasn’t a wolf anymore, not in the eyes of the pack or the eyes of…

No, he’d still love me… right? If I call for him, he’ll come. He always came running when I called. He was always there. He wouldn’t… but if he did come. Wouldn’t they…? They’d find him too… They’d do to him what they did to me…

And still, PB wanted to call out his name.

He just didn’t want to be alone during this. Then Alan would experience everything he had gone through.

And, if only for a fraction of a second, PB felt glad. Glad at the dark thought of Alan, his human, getting hurt just as he had. As they had done to him. To share in this humiliation, this abuse, this beating… to partake in the damage done and share the burden of it. Share that pain…

At least then, it would only be half as bad…

Because PB wasn’t strong enough to carry it all by himself…

I’m not strong enough to be with you… or without you…

And he hated that.

Hated how he felt like that, if only for that single second’s worth of thought. He hated how he delighted in sharing his misery with the man he claimed to love. Hated how, in the end, it was his own fault. That he wasn’t strong enough to stop them, and PB hadn’t been strong enough to change things. That PB wasn’t strong enough to carry this burden.

“They won… didn’t they…?” PB wanted to say as he mouthed the words with his cracked lips. His body ached for something to drink. “Alan..?” He stressed the word, forcing himself to say it anyways. He recoiled, not at how he sounded or the croaking sound that escaped shortly after.

It was that name.

That single name brought it all back, and PB tried not to shake in fear as he closed his eye, holding back the tears that continued to slip away. Tears couldn’t slip out of his uncovered eye as he tried to, desperately searching for something. He wasn’t sure what. He just needed it. He knew he had to have it.  

“We’ll be together forever, right?”

Grabbing at his head, PB desperately tried to suppress the thoughts. Even the good ones brought back the bad. Brought back that night—that nightmare. Something pulled on his arm, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care.

He should be here, next to me, suffering too. Then I wouldn’t be alone.

“Alan…” PB began to plead, to beg. To apologize for his dark thoughts, that second worth of doubt he had for him. For them. For everything! “I’m sorry!” He whined louder. It hurt, this hurt. He was beginning to feel his body again, and it scared him.

This body scared him.

It didn’t feel like his body. Not anymore. It felt like a broken shell of the man he was. Who he wanted to be. All in his aspirations for life, for the two of them, were gone the second they had broken it, broken him, broken this body of his. A broken shell of a wolf that couldn’t even carry its own weight, let alone the burden placed on its shoulders… or carry someone else’s burdens—their troubles. PB couldn’t even help them.

“Don’t worry. I got you.”

PB shuddered at the thought of Alan jumping into his arms and the wolf catching him so easily. He might as well have been as light as air as PB spun him around back then, and the two laughed and smiled before sharing a sweet, tender kiss.

The very thought made the wolf pull back, afraid if the human tried to hug him now… he’d just break. If Alan jumped into his arms now, PB was sure to break.

Those piggyback rides in the field. Laughing together as Alan pointed towards the horizon that PB would run towards. Together, they ran towards the horizon their dreams lay on the other side of. Hand in hand together, ignoring the world around them. Ignoring reality. The future they had craved and coveted and talked about endlessly. That was the dream, the hopes they had.

Together.

It was all a lie. A wolf could never be happy or free…

And now, now PB knew he couldn’t carry Alan any longer. Not in the field. Not towards the horizon. And not… not towards those dreams. All PB could do was hold Alan back until the man resented him. Hated him, just as his pack did.

“Alan… Please…” PB's soft whine broke as snot ran down his upturned nose—a crackling sound as he called out for his human. For him to say something, do something to let him know… he was there.

That PB wasn’t alone.

“It’s not a you! It’s not an I! It’s an us! It’s a we! Us! Together! That’s the future I,” Alan giggled, and still PB could hear that sound ringing in his ears like the soft chimes of bells. “I mean we! We want, together!”

Together. It had been PB’s favorite word.

“Where are you?” PB’s voice cracked and broke, filling the empty room, filling the otherwise silence that had set in. The machine beeped beside him, the only sound that replied… but PB couldn’t hear it. Not fully. He couldn’t hear anything from that side.

What did you sacrifice for our future… I gave them everything, and still, they wanted more…

PB couldn’t hear those walking by or the birds outside his window. Not even his voice, calling out… It sounded so far away, like at the end of a tunnel.

How could Alan hear him when he couldn’t even hear himself?

Pathetic, their words echoed in his heart and body, and soul. Richetching off his brittle bones and broken ribs. Pathetic and weak. No one could love you after we’re done with you. No one wants a broken wolf.

“We’ll meet after this is all done, okay? Then, then we’ll run away! Your uncle has a place, you said, right?” Alan had been so trusting. The human had placed his entire life and safety in PB’s hands that night. “I love you.”

No…

“I love you so much.” Alan had smiled at him.

Please, if you do that… they’ll hurt me more…

“I’ll be waiting for you….” Were those his last words as PB’s hand slipped out of the human’s? So strange, a human without fur, claws, or pads to protect their soft skin… they were so harmless and yet, those in the pack seemed to fear them even more than the deadliest predator.

Why did I let go of your hand? Why didn’t I hold on? Why didn’t I run away with you right then and there…?

“I’m right here…” PB's memories were shaken. His head hurt. The headache was setting in as he closed his eye, desperately trying to grasp at those fleeting, warm memories of the two together. PB was already forgetting what those warm, furless fingers felt like in his.

How those small, clawless hands felt on his body. Rubbing and petting him. Combing his hair with his fingers as Alan talked. He liked to talk so much as PB laid back in Alan’s lap, letting the human pet him like this. Let Alan trust him to be this vulnerable and open with him.

“I love you.” PB felt his lips moving, forming the words he couldn’t say.

He could practically feel it… feel that hand on his right side, in his right hand… his blind side. The side that could only see into the past and times long gone. PB’s fingers closed around the hand that wasn’t there, holding onto those memories as they tried to slip away. They had stolen his eye, stolen the vision of the future he held in them. He was nothing more than a scarred, wretched creature that hated the very man he claimed to love.

Unable to protect him.

Unable to call out for him.

Unable… to do anything.

And still, PB’s hand tightened, afraid to let go…

PB reached, blindly, from his right side, towards them. Towards that warmth. Those memories were slipping away. Trying to find that hand. To grasp it. To hold it. To know that he wasn’t alone. The comfort of that touch. That could get him through this. To grab for something, anything. To grab at the ray of light that had filled his life and brightened it every day.

“Hurry up, or I’m going to leave you behind!” Alan had teased him, running ahead. PB reached out, calling for him, but no words came out. Grasping, grabbing at the air in front of him, he couldn’t see.

His hand came up empty, leaving him feeling cold and numb as the rays of fading light slipped through the blinds as the hand slipped through his fingers. Grains of sand, his hopes and dreams slipping away. Out of reach but not out of mind…

His right side, the entire right side of the room, was gone. Empty. Black, devoid of anything… but PB could’ve sworn, if only for the briefest of seconds, Alan had been there, just out of reach. Out of reach of his hand, he was trying to grab hold of him.

“…Alan?”

There wasn’t anyone there, right? PB wasn’t sure… he couldn’t see, not from that side. Someone could’ve been there! There, in the darkness. He couldn't tell. Half the room seemed to be missing from his vision. A bleak, empty darkness cut the world in two.

His touch had failed him. His ears weren’t working. His vision was off. Unsure what else to do, the wolf closed his eye, took a slow deep breath through his nose, and let all the smells fill him. Each one, each smell, had its own story and tales. A single breath was all it took for him to learn where he was and what had happened.

The smells were familiar but not the ones he had been searching for. He was in a hospital room. PB instantly knew from the smell alone. Understanding this even before his brain could decipher what that clue meant.

His nose still worked, and the smells flowed in as he sniffed out. Trying to find that one odor, that one scent in the ocean of others.

Bleach, disinfectants, cleaners… fresh laundry, spoiled sheets, that strange, alien smell of medicine. People! A lot of people. Almost too many. A mix of smells from clean and fresh, young newborns to old and dying… and those working. Their sweat and tired bodies were hustling up and down the hallways, always something for them to do. Pushing carts, bringing charts, taking vitals, changing sheets or the people themselves…

PB could never understand how a canine could work in a place like this. It was sensory overload! Maybe their noses just stopped smelling these scents, but it was all he had for him, and he forced himself to keep sniffing even as he gagged from a rancid smell that hit him like a frying pan upside the head.

PB’s nose twitched. The once button brown nose, now tipped, curved slightly upwards from where it had broken and had been set.

Still, the dark nutty brown fur wolf sniffed. Sniffing for the one smell that would forever haunt and warm his nightmares, memories of him to come.