Chapter Text
One. Two. Three. Four. On and on the count continued.
Warner knew these lashings like the back of his hand. He knew they wouldn’t stop until his father felt he had been sufficiently punished. For what? Warner could only guess.
Maybe it was for being weak and crying all of those years ago. He had stopped by age 7, but he knew that there was more than one way to show weakness. Whimpering or flinching for example, were some of his father’s least favorites.
When Warner was in these moments, he could only brace himself and try to remember the good. Focus on the sensation of his mother’s ring on his pinky, reminding himself of the love that came alongside the gift. He pictured the bird that Juliette so often associated with him. He imagined he was that bird, flying away from his father, back into the arms of his wife.
“I am not alone. Mother still loves me. Juliette loves me. This will be over soon.”
Warner whispered this to himself under his breath, more to convince himself than anyone. Unfortunately, his father overheard the desperate mantra.
“Anderson men do not mutter under their breaths. If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise you would be wise not to speak while receiving your gift. The only words I should be hearing out of your mouth is “Thank you, for showing me what true love is.””
Warner, frozen at being called out, stopped himself at once with the words on his lips. He knew how his father’s “gifts” worked. The more Paris Anderson was provoked, the longer it would continue on.
Warner simply nodded in response, and after a brief pause to roll his eyes at Warner, continued on with the lashings. He couldn’t keep track of the number anymore, and instead closed his eyes to imagine his love, Juliette, smiling at him. If he could just picture her for a fraction of a second, he might find a bit of respite.
“Open your eyes, Aaron.”
That voice. That voice wasn’t his father’s, but did belong to someone he knew. He craned his head to turn around and was horrified at what he saw.
Juliette, smirking at him as she braced the whip against his back. He barely had a second to think, and couldn’t help as he cried out.
“Aaron, don’t you know better than to cry out? You’ve been through this enough times to know the drill at this point. Can’t you grow the fuck up already?”
She said this with mocking disappointment in her voice, like she couldn’t believe he was crying out from being lashed. Warner was still trying to wrap his head around Juliette, the girl he knew his whole life—someone he loved, hurting him in this way. Juliette could obviously read the shock on his face.
“Don’t act so surprised, Aaron. I’m just doing what you’ve always deserved. This is for your own good, remember? I can’t believe you thought it could be different.”
Juliette was right. He had thought things could be different. He was ashamed of himself and so, so angry for getting his hopes up. He knew that people could only let you down, but he had chosen to let Juliette in anyway. And she hurt him the way everyone else in his life had. At this point, Warner knew. This had to be his fault. The only common factor was him. His mother being sick, his father abusing him, the people around him hating him, and now Juliette, the woman he loves, turning on him.
“I’m sorry, Juliette! You’re right. I deserve it, do as you see fit.”
He said this, resigned. He wouldn’t fight a battle that had already been lost. Juliette only laughed. But not the sweet, hearty laugh he was used to. This was a mocking laugh, full of contempt and disgust.
“You think you know what you deserve? You could never begin to understand what you deserve. You were born weak. There is no greater flaw an individual can have than weakness, and you let it best you time and time again. You will continue to suffer because you cannot put your petty emotions aside and just be the powerful man you should've been. You are a disappointment to your father, to the republic, and most of all, to me. I do not love you Aaron Warner, and I never could. You are a fool for believing otherwise.”
Warner felt the tears drip down his cheeks as the verbal lashing left wounds deep enough to scar his heart. Everything Juliette was saying reconfirmed what he already knew. But hearing it hurt worse than the pain on his back. He barely had time to recenter before he felt the whip hit his back—more aggressive this time. On and on it continued, never letting up.
As the pain worsened he started to hear voices from all around him. People laughing at him, spitting on him, telling him he deserved it. Warner couldn’t take it anymore.
“Stop it, please. Just kill me. It’ll be easier for us all if I’m dead. I just want it to stop. Kill me! Kill me please.”
No matter how hard he yelled, no one would listen to him. He was full on sobbing at this point, but the pain was so bad, he couldn’t find it in him to care. He kept crying out,
“Please, I’ll do anything. Just make it stop. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” The pain reached a new level and he screamed. His vocal cords shattered and he lost control of his body and mind as he finally blacked out.