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A week had gone by since the locker room incident involving Barley and Trent. Barley had noticed that his bully had left him alone for a little while, and he hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. The poor boy just wanted to get a start on repairing his mental health, and if his bully let him be, the process would be a lot easier.
Barley was enjoying lunch with his buddies when he remembered that he brought a book of his that Shrub Rosehammer wanted to borrow, and he realized he forgot to bring it out to the courtyard with him. He made his way back into the quiet halls of the school, heading for his locker. He dialed the combination on his lock, and just as he was about to open the door, he was slammed into the lockers, hard. He felt a hand fist into the back of his shirt, yanking him back a little.
“Hey, fat-ass,” Trent sneered close to Barley’s ear, shoving him back against the lockers. “Did'ya miss me?”
Barley grimaced as his forehead hit the metal door, tears in his eyes from how badly it hurt. “What do you want, Trent?” he asked, his body pressed against the cold lockers.
“I wanna beat the shit out of you,” Trent answered, forcing Barley against the lockers harder.
He ripped Barley off the lockers, turning him to face him, shoving his back against them this time. Barley winced again, noticing the bandage still across Trent’s nose.
“Well, if you did, you’d be suspended,” Barley reasoned. “I’m lucky I only got detention for breaking your nose-”
Trent forced a hand over Barley’s mouth, punching him hard in the gut. Barley let out a groan of pain, but it was muffled due to his mouth being covered.
“That’s why I wanna beat you up, idiot,” Trent spat, yanking his hand away from Barley’s mouth. “The only reason you broke my nose is because you caught me off guard. We’re having a fair fight, and if you refuse…” he laughed maliciously, an evil look in his eye. “Then I’ll just have to go after your precious little brother…”
Barley’s heart stopped. All of the horrible things Trent had ever done to him flashed through his mind, and then, he imagined those things happening to Ian. His blood boiled at the thought, so he gave in.
“Fine, I’ll fight you,” he sighed, glaring daggers at Trent. His eyes began to sting a little, fear for Ian’s safety holding his mind hostage. “Just promise me you won’t hurt my brother, okay?”
“A deal’s a deal,” Trent shrugged, stepping back from Barley just a bit. “You agreed to the fight, so I’ll leave Ian alone.”
“Don’t you dare say his name,” Barley warned, jabbing a finger in Trent’s face.
Trent snickered. “You, me, back of the school once everyone’s gone.”
Barley averted his gaze, pulling the hem of his shirt down a little. “Fine…”
“See you then, fat-ass,” Trent said, slapping Barley’s stomach before he walked away.
Barley let out a strangled breath, his hand smoothing over the sting on his belly that was left behind from Trent’s slap. Then he felt the pain on his forehead again, and he rubbed his temples in frustration. He pressed his forehead to his cold locker door while he angrily punched the one beside him.
“What the fuck am I doing?” he mumbled under his breath, fear setting in as he realized he was really going to have to fight Trent if he wanted to keep Ian out of his troubles. “I don’t know how to fist fight! That punch before was a fluke!”
He furiously dialed the combination on his lock, flinging the door open so forcefully, it slammed all the way open against the other lockers. He snatched the book for Shrub off the shelf, preparing to slam the door shut, but a picture on the inside of his locker door stopped him.
It was a picture of him and Ian when they were little kids. They were covered in dirt from head to toe, and Barley had his arm wrapped around his little brother’s shoulders as they both beamed at the camera.
Barley relaxed a little bit, letting out a sigh as tears pricked his eyes. If fighting Trent would keep Ian from being harassed, Barley was willing to do it.
At the end of the school day, Barley waited for Ian by the school sign like he always did. It didn’t take long for Ian walk out of the school, and he headed straight towards his older brother. Barley waved at him, putting a smile on his face.
“Hey, Barley!” Ian smiled back at him, his hands gripping the straps of his backpack. “You ready to head home?”
“Actually, bud, I’ve got to stick around at the school for a little bit,” Barley told him, hoping he didn’t seem like he was afraid. “I’m meeting with my teacher to talk about getting a tutor…”
“Oh, okay,” Ian nodded. “Do you want me to wait for you? Because I’d be willing-”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be,” Barley cut him off. At least that part was honest. “You can go home, Ian. I’m sure you have homework that you’ll want to get done as soon as you can…”
“You’re right, I do have homework,” Ian confirmed, scuffing the bottom of his shoe on the sidewalk. “I guess I’ll head home then… See you later, Barley.”
“See ya, Ian,” Barley said, a little quieter than how he was speaking before. He quickly pulled Ian in for a little hug, trying his best not to cry. “Stay safe on your walk, okay?”
“I will,” Ian promised, a smile on his face as he looked at his older brother. “Good luck with your meeting.”
Ian then began to walk down the sidewalk, and Barley waved at him from behind until his little brother was gone from his view. He let out a sigh as he watched all the rest of the students file out of the school, so he slowly made his way to the back out by the dumpsters, where Trent would be.
He crept over to the dumpsters, so much fear resonating in his gut. His gut was telling him to run away, but his heart was telling him to fight. He had to fight, for Ian.
“Oh good, you are here,” Trent smirked, stepping out from behind a dumpster. “I kinda thought you’d bail, since you’re a useless sack of shit.”
Barley took his bag off his shoulders, setting it down on the pavement. “Can we please just get this over with?” he begged, his voice breaking ever so slightly.
Trent cackled, cracking his knuckles. “It’s over when I say it’s over, fat-ass.”
Before Barley could say another word, Trent shoved him against a dumpster. Barley let out a yelp, pain rippling through his back. Trent sauntered up to him, fists drawn, and Barley quickly threw a punch to his jaw.
“Piece of shit,” Trent spat, wiping blood off of his lip. “You actually have some muscle under all that fat, huh?”
Barley was about to respond when Trent punched him in the side of his face. He tried to throw a punch back, but Trent grabbed him by his shirt and threw him down to the pavement.
Barley winced from the pain of his skin scraping against the pavement, knowing full well that his knees, elbows, and the palms of his hands were probably bleeding. Before he could get up, Trent kicked him in his side, rolling Barley onto his back with his foot.
Trent loomed over Barley, his foot pressed against Barley’s belly. “This is for breaking my nose,” he punched Barley in the face again, right on his left eye. “And this is for stealing my best friend back in freshman year!”
He stomped down on Barley’s stomach as hard as he could, making Barley cry out in pain. Barley rolled into the fetal position, clutching his arms around his stomach.
“I don’t…I don’t know what you mean…” he wheezed out, staring at Trent with tear-filled eyes. He did in fact know what Trent meant, but he couldn't believe that Trent was still being so petty about something that he himself had caused freshman year, not Barley.
“Gods, you’re dense!” Trent yelled, kicking Barley in the shin. “You’re such a waste of space! I can’t believe you haven’t just killed yourself already!”
Trent shoved his foot into Barley’s belly again, forcing him onto his back. He kicked Barley in the side multiple times before hovering over his face.
“You should.”
Barley shut his eyes tight briefly, pushing past all of the pain. “I should what?”
“Kill yourself,” Trent spat, kicking Barley in the side one more time before he walked off the scene.
Barley let the tears stream down his face, overwhelmed by the pain everywhere in his body. He was having trouble catching his breath, every part of his torso screaming for relief.
Kill yourself, the words echoed in his head. Kill yourself.
He laid on the pavement for a few more minutes before he forced himself up, beginning his painful walk home all by himself. There was no way he would be able to hide his troubles from his family anymore.
When Barley stepped into his home, he was surprised to see his mother home early; reading a book on the couch, Blazey curled up in her lap.
“Hey, Barley,” she greeted her son, not looking up from her book. “Ian told me you were talking to one of your teachers about getting a tutor! How’d it go?”
She looked over to Barley, her hands instantly cupping over her mouth as she let out a horrified gasp. She couldn’t even begin to process what could have possibly happened to her seventeen year-old son. Laurel stood up from the couch, rushing over to Barley, her hands instantly brushing over his bruised face.
“Barley, honey, what in the Realms happened to you?”
Barley sighed, feeling the tears rush to his eyes once more. He looked down at his scraped up hands, letting out a whimper before he collapsed against his mother, wrapping his arms around her as tight as he could. He began to sob into her shoulder, his hands fisting in the back of her sweater, trying to pull her as close as possible.
Laurel rubbed Barley’s back as tears struck her own eyes. “It’s okay, honey… It’s okay…”
Barley kept sobbing, gasping for breath. “Mom…I…I need help…”
“Okay,” Laurel pulled out of the hug a little, looking into Barley’s bloodshot eyes. “Sweetie, I need you to tell me what happened.”
Barley took a deep breath, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I got in a fight… Well, I was forced to fight…”
“What do you mean you were forced to fight?” Laurel asked sympathetically.
“There’s this guy at school, he’s been…he’s been bullying me since freshman year…” Barley explained, already feeling the tears well up again. “It wasn’t too bad before, but this year…this year he’s said a lot of horrible things…” he looked down at his tummy, self-consciously sucking it in. “Remember how I got detention last week?”
Laurel nodded, wiping at his teary eyes. “Did it involve this guy?”
“Yeah…” Barley confirmed, his gaze to the floor. “Well, I broke his nose because I was sick of his shit, but today he wanted a fair fight…”
Laurel frowned. “You didn’t have to fight him, hon…”
“I did though,” Barley cried, the tears streaming down his face again. “He said that if I didn’t fight him, he was gonna go after Ian, and I couldn’t let that happen because he’s so horrible to me, and I just-”
“Barley,” Laurel cut him off, noticing he was rambling without taking breaths. “Stop for a second. Take a deep breath.”
Barley did as he was told, a few stray tears slipping out as he took a couple shaky breaths. “I don’t want him to do to Ian all the things he’s done to me…”
“What has he done?” Laurel asked.
“He makes fun of my weight every single day…he’s called me every slur under the sun…and today he…” Barley stopped for a second, taking another deep breath. “He told me I should kill myself…”
The color drained from Laurel’s face as she let the information her son had just shared sink in. “Barley…”
“I’m not gonna listen to him, but I need help, Mom,” Barley started to cry again, wiping at his eyes with the backs of his hands. “School is really fucking hard, and mixing it with the bullying and shitty customers at work is…it’s too much…I have trouble sleeping, I stress-eat…I don’t even want to do anything anymore…” he stopped talking, taking another shaky breath. “I’m struggling…really bad…”
Laurel’s heart broke for her oldest son, pulling him back into a hug. “We can get you some help, sweetie… I just wish you would have told me sooner…”
Barley sighed, pressing his nose into her shoulder. “I guess I wanted to try and handle it myself…to not be afraid…”
“You’re so brave…” Laurel told him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m going to come up to the school tomorrow, okay? We can have a good talk with your principal, together. I don’t want you to have to do it alone.”
Barley squeezed his mother tight once more. “Thank you, Mom…”
Laurel pulled out of the hug, cupping Barley’s face in her hands. “I love you, Barley. Don’t forget that.”
Barley smiled a little. “I love you too, Mom…”
“Now, try and clean yourself up, okay?” she encouraged gently. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Barley nodded, wandering off to the bathroom. He took a nice warm shower, making sure to let the soap and water clean his scrapes, even if it stung a little. When he got out of the shower and went to his room, he inspected all the bruises around his stomach, smoothing his hand over them.
There were many large bruises along his sides, already dark and purple. But the worst one was right in the middle of his stomach--it was almost the exact shape of Trent’s foot, and it was the darkest bruise of them all. He sighed, doing his best to shake the thoughts of the fight out of his head.
“It’s over now,” he mumbled to himself, pulling on a shirt and sweatpants, ruffling his wet hair. He sat down on his bed, staring at his scraped hands again. “Mom’s gonna help you deal with it, just think about good things…”
As if it was beckoned, Barley heard a knock on his bedroom door, followed by the voice of his little brother.
“Hey, Barley, can I come in?” Ian asked.
Barley smiled a little. “Sure, bud.”
Ian let himself into Barley’s room, his eyes instantly filling with worry. He noticed Barley’s black eye and bruised cheek, then spotted his scraped up hands.
“What happened?” he wondered, sitting down beside Barley on his bed. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not okay,” Barley admitted, clasping his hands together in his lap. “To tell you the truth, Ian, I haven’t been okay for a while…but I’m gonna get some help, and hopefully things will get better…”
“I’m sorry…” Ian’s brows knit together, a frown on his lips. “But what happened? Why do you look like you got beat up?”
Barley forced out a chuckle. “That’s because I did.”
Ian was so worried about his brother. “Why?”
“It was just some guy at school who’s been bugging me for a while,” Barley informed him. “I don’t really want to talk about it…”
“Geez, Barley, I’m sorry,” Ian apologized, wrapping his big brother in a hug.
“It’s alright, Ian,” Barley assured him, accepting the hug, holding his little brother tight. “Can you just…make me a promise?”
Ian pulled out of the hug, staring into his brother’s eyes. “Of course.”
“Promise me that you’ll just keep being you,” Barley pleaded, holding Ian’s shoulders. “You being you has been my reason to smile lately… I love you, bud.”
“I love you too, Barley,” Ian promised, pulling him back into a hug. “So…I guess you didn’t meet with your teacher then, huh?”
Barley chuckled, genuinely this time. “No, I didn’t.”
The brothers stayed in that hug for a while, and for the first time in months, Barley genuinely felt a little bit better.
That night, Barley tossed and turned in his sleep, the nightmare he has had since he was a toddler creeping back to him.
There he was, three years old again, in the hospital, desperately trying to get to his father’s hospital bed.
“DADDY!” he screamed, pawing at the invisible blockade keeping him away from his sick father. “DADDY, WAIT!”
The beep of a heart monitor flatlining rang through his ears, sending his father’s hospital room into complete darkness. Little Barley fell to the ground, sobbing.
But then, instead of the dream ending how it usually did, Trent emerged from the hospital room where his dad once was.
“Little shit,” Trent spat. “Can’t even say goodbye to your dad. Are you really that much of a screw-up?”
Barley jolted awake in a cold sweat, tears instantly brimming in his eyes. He winced a little as he sat up, the pain in his body from the fight really starting to kick in.
“No, no, no…” Barley sobbed, pulling his knees tight to his chest. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” he screamed, his hands fisting in his hair.
That scream woke Laurel and Ian, both of them rushing down to Barley’s room as fast as they could. Ian was the first to enter the room, Laurel seconds behind him.
“Barley, what’s wrong?” Ian asked, rushing over to his big brother and placing a hand on his knee.
“I’m not a screw-up…” Barley mumbled, tugging on his hair. “I’m not a screw-up, Dad…I promise.”
Ian glanced at his mother, his expression laced with worry and confusion. The fourteen year-old still didn’t know that his brother never said goodbye to their dad. He only knew that Barley was afraid of hospitals.
“Barley, honey,” Laurel spoke softly, gently pulling Barley’s hands out of his hair. “Did you have the nightmare again?”
Barley nodded, looking up at his mother with tear-filled eyes. “Dad knows I’m not a screw-up, right?”
“Oh, sweetie…” Laurel sighed, bending over to hug her son tight. “Your dad would never think that of you…”
Barley buried his face into his mother’s shoulder, taking deep breaths. Laurel rubbed his back, her heart breaking for her poor son. Ian stood close by, his hands clasped tightly together.
“Try and get some sleep, Barley,” she told him, pulling out of the hug and pressing a kiss to his forehead, running her hand through his hair. “We’re gonna make it all better as soon as possible. I promise.”
Barley nodded again, his gaze to the floor. Laurel walked out of the room, leaving the brothers together. Ian wasn’t sure what to say, so he simply sat down beside his brother, placing a hand on his back. Barley smiled a little, wrapping his arm around Ian’s shoulders, pulling him in for a side hug.
“I’m sorry about your nightmare,” Ian spoke up, resting his head against Barley’s shoulder. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
Barley’s smile grew into a full one, resting his head on top of Ian’s. “This is enough.”
The brothers sat with each other for a while, not saying a word until Ian yawned, deciding to head back to bed. When Barley laid back down, he smiled again, feeling safe in knowing that his family would always have his back.