Work Text:
He writhes in his sleeping bag, frowning and groaning as nightmares invade his sleeping mind.
Hunter dreams of kneeling on the ground, bloody and bruised after a failed mission, begging his uncle for forgiveness. Of Belos insisting that Hunter needs a “punishment” and the terror that runs through him. Of his shirt ripping as a whip strikes his back again and again, leaving red, swollen welts on his skin.
He whimpers when he awakes, covering his mouth to stay quiet. (He doesn’t want Gus to see him like this.)
And Hunter trembles, his scars burning and tears in his eyes.