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It had been around six months since Henry had killed his father and had been sent to Juniper Hill mental asylum, and to claim these last six months had been rough for him would be a massive understatement. It didn't come as a shock to most when he committed the act, but the fact that he ended up in a mental institution instead of a juvenile detention center did. Henry had a lot more issues than most knew about due to abuse he had faced at home. He took a plea deal that saved him from a life behind bars. It wasn't the most ideal outcome, but it was better than the alternative, or at least that's what others claimed. Henry had encountered more than a few situations that left him more than a bit concerned about the place he was stuck in, and this was both from the staff and the insane fuckers who were stuck in here with him. He had started to isolate himself when he heard a familiar voice, one that still haunted his dreams. Patrick. He didn't know how, but Patrick had ended up in the same institution as him. He didn't even know he was alive. He had more or less vanished off the face of the Earth around a week before he killed his father. He had seen the posters before some sick fuck tore them down. His parents claimed that they didn't know what happened to him. It was all a lie. Patrick has been here the entire time. Henry followed the voice until he found Patrick torturing some poor kid with claustrophobia. It was kind of hilarious, but when he saw him, he smiled. Henry stuck close to Patrick's side as he told him how someone had found the fridge in the woods with the animals and how his parents had reacted and how that led to a conversation about his brother. Patrick didn't even make an attempt to lie, and his confession landed him in here. Henry knew he should have been more bothered with what Patrick told him, but in truth he wasn't. It didn't come as a shock. He remained close with Patrick, and for the first time since he arrived, shit started to feel normal, and then he was moved into Patrick's room. No one else could stand to share a room with him after the shit he had done to his previous roommates, but Henry wasn't bothered. He was used to Patrick's behavior. He knew he could handle him.
It was weird to consider, but Henry was really thankful for the change in his room placement. He couldn't stand the last three he had been with. When he first arrived, he had been placed with a kid who suffered from night terrors and would wake him up with his screams, then he was placed with a kid who was so violent that Patrick started to look like a saint in comparison, and the last one used to cry himself to sleep and wet the bed, and as someone who slept on the bottom bunk, Henry was not too thrilled about that situation. Patrick had his issues as well, such as how he would stare at people while they slept and the shit he would say to them, but Henry was used to that. Patrick knew if he tried any of that weird shit with him, he would beat his ass. He had slept over at Patrick's house a million times. This wasn't much different than that. It was almost a comfort, or at least it would have been if it wasn't for the issues Henry had. Henry didn't like to talk about it, but ever since his father's death, he started to have these dreams. He was haunted by his actions, and there was a small part of him that remained scared that his father would somehow come back to life and beat him for what he had done. He could almost feel the belt on his back when he had those dreams. He wanted to scream. He hated it. He hated him.
It had been bad this time, so bad that Henry had shot up the second he awoke. He felt almost like he couldn't breathe. It took him several minutes to calm himself and realize where he was, but even that wasn't a comfort. His father was dead, but now he was here. He could hear the screams down the hall and cries that sounded far too close for comfort. Henry sat there for a minute and listened to it, but when it became too much for him, he crawled out of bed and crawled up the ladder to the top bunk where Patrick slept. Patrick didn't react much at first, but when he kicked him, he rolled over and made enough room for Henry to crawl into bed with him. Henry knew it was awkward, but he needed it. He didn't want to need him like this, but he did. Patrick tossed an arm around him when he settled next to him. There wasn't much room on the small bed, but Henry didn't care, and based on how Patrick reacted, neither did he. He almost seemed to like how Henry leaned into him, and for a moment he allowed the silence to exist between them, but that didn't last forever.
“You want to talk about the reason you crawled into bed with me? Not that I mind, of course, but based on the fact that you haven't tried even once to get me to touch your dick, I'm assuming it's not for the reason I hoped it would be for.” Patrick asked after a few minutes, taking notice of the continued silence he was met with and how the other boy stared at his side. “Hen..”
“Bad dreams.” Henry responded after a few seconds, not missing the look he received in return over this confession. “I don't want to talk about it.”
“.. Alright.” Patrick answered as he took the answer he received for what it was, allowing the other boy to cling to his side for a sense of comfort. “We don't have to talk then.”
“Patrick—” Henry called out as he felt the other boy's hands shift around his body underneath the covers, taking notice when the hands shifted lower towards his more intimate areas. “Patrick!”
“It was worth a shot.” Patrick reasoned in his own defense as he retracted his hands, allowing a few moments to pass before he started to touch once more, which earned him a kick in the shin. “Fine— Fine.”
It took several minutes for Patrick to calm down once more, but when he did, he fell asleep with his arms around Henry, and for a moment it all felt as it should be. Henry felt safe. It was late when he woke up that morning. He knew Patrick had been awake for hours, but he chose to stay there with him. He looked almost bored, but once he noticed Henry was awake, he smiled. Henry shoved him out of the bed before he could say something stupid. He wasn't too concerned as he heard Patrick laugh about it, but that should have been his first indicator that something was wrong. He was bleeding. He was bleeding badly. Henry froze for a second before he rushed down the ladder and called for a nurse. It was hell to treat Patrick, as he didn't care much for the staff there, but when push came to shove, Patrick lied for him. He claimed that he fell out of bed on his own. Henry would never understand the reason Patrick chose to cover for him, but the affection he decided to show him after he returned from the hospital could have been an indicator. It was his ticket to more than some mild touches. Henry knew he should refuse, but with how Patrick looked with all those bandages, he couldn't tell him no, but that didn't mean he'd be the bitch between them either. He was still a man after all, and if he was going to engage in faggot behavior, then he would at least be the pitcher instead of the receiver. He had to be. He needed to be. It didn't matter how nice it felt when Patrick took control and ran the show. He did what he had to do and not a bit more.
“You look nice like that.” Patrick mused as he looked down at the other boy on his knees in front of him, taking notice when he stopped his actions because of the compliment. “I didn't say stop.”