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Ezra winced as the hinges creaked loudly. He stood frozen in place, waiting, listening intently for any sign of movement. Maul might not have locked him in his room tonight, but he still wouldn’t take it well if he thought Ezra was trying to leave.
Hearing nothing, Ezra slipped out into the short hallway. As he made his way into the main room, he glanced back toward Maul’s door. It was still closed.
Ezra darted across the room, pulling open the cabinet and removing a cold pack in one quick motion. He cracked it, wincing as the sound cut through the silence, and pressed it against his side. A quiet sigh of relief escaped him as the cold began to ease the pain from the bruises. He healed faster than normal humans now, but this injury was taking longer to heal than most.
There was a soft creak of a floorboard behind him and he jumped, turning around quickly. Maul stood in the entrance to the hallway, his face unreadable as he watched Ezra.
“Your door being unlocked doesn’t mean you had permission to leave,” Maul said.
Ezra clutched the ice pack against his side, hoping that just this once, Maul would go easy on him if he knew what Ezra was really doing.
“I – I wasn’t trying to leave,” Ezra stammered, backing himself up against the wall. “I swear, I –”
Maul stepped forward and Ezra immediately fell silent.
“You’re hurt,” Maul said. Ezra nodded. Now that Maul knew, there was no point in trying to hide it anymore. Lying would only get him in more trouble.
“Let me see,” Maul said.
Ezra set the ice pack on the table and lifted his shirt, averting his eyes as he revealed the scrapes and bruises on his side. Ezra winced as Maul prodded at the bruises, his touch gentler than Ezra remembered it ever being.
“Does it hurt when you breathe?” Maul asked.
Ezra let out a quiet, frightened squeak. Maul sounding kind and concerned was almost always followed by a punishment.
“Not really,” he said, fighting to keep his voice from shaking.
“How did this happen?” Maul asked.
Ezra swallowed nervously. He hadn’t done anything against the rules, but he was terrified that Maul would be angry with him anyway.
“When you let me go outside yesterday,” Ezra said, keeping his eyes fixed on a crack in one of the floorboards. “I – I climbed a tree and I fell and I got hurt and –”
He stopped himself, shaking as he stared down at the floor. He tried to tell himself everything was okay, that Maul wasn’t unreasonable, that he wouldn’t get in trouble for falling. But keeping it hidden from Maul, that could get him in trouble. He wasn’t supposed to lie.
“Your ribs don’t seem to be broken,” Maul said, withdrawing his hand and letting Ezra pull his shirt back down.
“I – I’m sorry,” Ezra said, his voice shaking.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Maul asked.
Ezra’s fear abruptly faded away, replaced by the resentment that had begun burning in his stomach the moment he’d first seen the injury. Maul had taken him from his home, kept him imprisoned here, and expected Ezra to tell him when he was hurt. He hadn’t wanted to tell Maul because he didn’t want a lecture, a punishment, or “care” that was just a lie to convince him he was safe here.
“I didn’t want your help,” Ezra said bitterly, pressing his hand so hard against his bruises that pain radiated up his side.
Maul raised one eyebrow and Ezra’s heart sped up. Maul not reacting was just as terrifying as him getting angry.
“And why is that?” Maul asked, his voice even.
Adrenaline was all that kept Ezra looking up at Maul instead of averting his eyes. His heart was now pounding not just with fear, but with anger. He never hated Maul more than he did in the moments when the man tried to act like he really cared.
“Why do you think?” Ezra snapped.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Maul’s expression remained unchanged, but Ezra could feel his anger and disappointment trough the empathic bond Maul had told him they’d shared since the first time he’d turned.
The anger pulsed in Ezra’s head, warning him to tread lightly; Maul’s way of giving him one chance to avoid punishment. Ezra viciously pushed back against that anger, as if trying to shove Maul away from him.
“You kidnapped me,” Ezra said. “You hurt me. You killed my parents. Why would I ever want help from you?”
Ezra expected the slap, but that did nothing to make the pain that shot through his face less intense. He shrank back against the wall, his hand pressed to his throbbing cheek. Regret flooded his mind, making him grow nauseous. He knew he shouldn’t have said any of that. He should have just lied and told Maul he wanted to show he could take care of himself. Maul would have liked that.
“I thought we were making progress, Ezra,” Maul said, his anger finally creeping into his voice.
That only made Ezra even angrier. Maul wanted him to forget about his parents, to accept that he was trapped here and was never going to leave. He wanted Ezra to believe that they were family. That was all Maul meant by “progress.” He just wanted Ezra brainwashed.
“I have been trying to make this easier for you,” Maul said, stepping toward Ezra, so close that Ezra now had no means of escape.
Ezra pressed a hand over his mouth as he choked out a quiet sob. He knew trying to apologize wasn’t going to save him now. He’d already crossed the line.
“But all you can do is be ungrateful,” Maul said.
He grabbed Ezra’s arm, pulling him away from the wall and throwing him to the floor. Ezra let out a sharp whimper as his injured side struck the wood. He sat up, backing away from Maul, watching him intently, trying to figure out where and how he would strike next.
“Maybe this,” Maul said, gesturing to Ezra’s injured side, “wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t give you as much freedom.”
“N—no,” Ezra said, his voice shaking. He knew what that meant. It meant more restrictions. It meant more rules he wouldn’t even realize he was breaking until it was too late. It meant every little scrap of freedom he’d worked so hard to get was going to be taken away.
Ezra yelped as Maul grabbed his hair, pulling him to his feet and dragging him back toward his room. Ezra stumbled as he tried to keep pace with Maul’s longer strides, whimpering with each painful tug at his hair. When they reached the door to his room, he looked up at Maul, his eyes wide.
“I—I’m sorry,” he said. “Please –”
Maul struck his face again and Ezra bit back a scream.
“Stay quiet,” Maul said. “I don’t want to hear a word from you until I let you out. Do you understand?”
Ezra nodded as beast as he could with Maul’s hand still gripping his hair.
Ezra let out another yelp of pain as Maul threw him into the room, letting him crumple into a heap on the floor. The door closed and he could hear the familiar scrape of the deadbolts being put into place.
Ezra curled up on his bed, an old mattress on the floor, and hugged his blanket against his chest, pressing his hands over his face to muffle his crying. He lay there, crying as quietly as he could, not wanting to get in more trouble if Maul heard him.
He never should have hidden his injury. That was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Why did he have to be so stubborn and try not to ask Maul for help? It wasn’t like it mattered, anyway. Either way, he was still trapped here, and he was never getting away.