"Mayson." Her voice cut through his dreams. He frowned not wanting the intrusion.

"Mayson. Wake up, baby." Slowly his eyes opened.

"Mommy?"

She smiled and brought her finger to his lips. "Hush, baby. Don't be scared, it's okay. Mommy won't hurt you, baby."

The world outside was dark with no light signaling the coming sunrise. He felt his mother's hand slide under his shirt, her fingers running lightly over his tummy. Mayson smiled. His mommy did this from time to time to help him go to sleep.

"Sit up, baby. Let Mommy take off your jammies."

Mayson frowned but lifted his arms as he was told, as he lifted his hips to assist taking off his pants. Roughly she pushed him back to the bed.

"Mommy?" She smiled, only this time the smile was different. It brought him fear, not comfort. "W-what are you doing, Mommy?"

She raked her nails down his chest and he whimpered. "You're eight now, Mayson. It's time you became a man and do what your Daddy can't anymore."

He didn't know what that meant but gasped as her hand grasped him and started slowly moving her hand around him. Feelings he'd never felt before shot through him and he moaned, his eyes slipping closed. The only other time his mommy had touched him there was when she was bathing him. Sometimes her hand lingered, but never for long.

"That's it, baby. Let Mommy make you feel good. And you can make Mommy feel good, too. Open your mouth."

He did and felt her breast against his lips. "Nurse. Like you did as a baby."

She moaned as he did as told, her hand moving faster. She changed her position slightly and reached for his hand. She was soft and wet where she placed his hand, and her moans increased as she moved his hand in circles.

She shuddered minutes later into his shoulder, her moans muffled as she stilled.

"Thank you, my baby. You made Mommy feel so good. Better than Daddy ever did." She kissed him, her tongue slipping across his lips before she left him naked in a pool of her wetness.

Mayson screamed as he struggled to escape the nightmare of his childhood. He scrambled to get away from her touch, he clawed at himself to dispel the memory of how good it felt when any of them touched him. He deserved it because he liked it. They always said that when he hardened in their hands or their mouth. He asked for it. He saw nothing of the cabin he and Jonathan had been occupying the last three days.

"Mayson!" He heard his name being called. The panic in the unknown voice. But none of it registered.

"Mayson! Mayson, it's okay."

Still, he struggled, his screams of fear and gut-wrenching panic cutting through Jonathan's soul. He knew he had to get Mayson awake before he hurt himself. In his flight from his demons, Mayson was headed straight for the plait glass window that leads to the back deck.

"Mayson, stop!" Jonathan watched as he headed towards the glass. Having no choice Jonathan headed him off, wrapping his arms around his center and pulling him into his chest.

Mayson screamed and as words began to form, Jonathan realized he was begging.

"Mayson, love, wake up. It's me, my love, it's Jonathan. I'm not gonna hurt you. Sh, love, you're safe. You're safe."

Suddenly the fighting stopped and small arms wound themselves around Jonathan, clutching the white shirt he'd adorned that morning.

Jonathan held him close, his arms wrapped tightly around Mayson, rocking him gently back and forth. Mayson screamed as his tears fell, soaked up by the cotton fabric his face was pressed against. Jonathan held him sway, doing all he could to swallow his own emotions.

"It's okay, Mace. I've got you. I've got you, baby. Sh, Sh. It's alright now. It's alright, sweet boy, I'm here."

They stood in the center of the cabin's front room, Jonathan having moved them away from the windows. Jonathan pulled back to look at his face but stopped when Mayson panicked, the shaking that vibrated throughout his whole body increasing.

"No! No, don't let me go, Jonny, don't let me go, please. Please..."

Jonathan pulled him close again and bent to pick him up bridal style, carrying him over to the leather sofa and sat down.

"It's okay. I've got you, Mace." Jonathan ran his hands up and down his back, holding him as close as he could.

"Don't let me go, Jonathan. Please, Jonny, don't let me go."

Jonathan placed a light kiss against Mayson's shoulder. "I'll never let you go, Mayson."

"Promise?" Mayson played with the hair on the back of Jonathan's neck, his voice small as a frightened child, and he was his only friend.

"I promise, little duck."

Mayson couldn't help but laugh through his tears at the childhood nickname. "'Little duck'. You haven't called me that in a long time."

Jonathan chuckled. "You told me you outgrew it."

For reasons he didn't know, that statement sent a burst of pain throughout his heart. "I was stupid."

Jonathan kissed his shoulder again. "Okay. Little duck."

"I like that better."

"Than what?" Jonathan's fingers still traced his back and side and arm. Mayson began to relax against him, his heartbeat becoming a metronome for his own still racing heart.

"'Mace'."

Jonathan smiled at the insatiable distaste for the nickname. The one he started using after he stopped calling him 'Little duck'. "Duly noted." The conversation paused for several moments before Jonathan spoke. His words made Mayson's whole body become rigid. "You wanna tell me about your dream?"

Mayson shook his head in quick successions, trying to pull himself further into the protection he was ensconced in. "No. No. Please, don't make me talk about it."

"Sh, love. You don't have to. I won't make you do anything." Jonathan paused considering his words. "You're gonna have to talk about it all one day, duck. This isn't good for you, baby."

He felt tears against the hollow of his neck and heard the quiet sobs in his ear. "I can't," Mayson cried. "I can't."

"Why not?" Mayson felt gentle fingers glide through his hair and he leaned into the touch.

"Because...I...I don't want you to hate me, Jonny." Mayson curled his knees up into Jonathan's side in an attempt to make himself small as possible. "I know you don't believe me, but I really do love you and I don't want you to leave me. I don't want you to hate me because of what they made me do."

Jonathan tried not to let his pain show at those words. "I could never hate you, Mayson. It doesn't matter what you tell me, what you went through, what they made you do...Mayson, I could never hate you."

Jonathan tightened his grip as Mayson's sobs increased. "They always said no one would love me. Th-that I was only good for t-two things. And and and that everyone would leave me when they were d-done."

Jonathan kissed the space between Mayson's shoulder and neck.

"I'll never use you, sweet one. I'll never leave you. You're stuck with me for the duration, my love."

"I don't want to feel her hands on me anymore, Jonny. Any of their hands." Mayson whispered in a pleading tone as if begging him to vanquish the haunting memories he thought long ago buried.

"I know, baby."

"Why did she do that to me, Jonathan?  I was only eight. Why did she ruin me?"

"Who, Mayson?" Jonathan knew, but he wanted Mayson to say it. He wanted to get him to talk about it, to get it out. Something he'd never been able to accomplish before.

"My mother. She said said said that, that she was gonna make me into a man. And then she..." he couldn't finish the sentence before his lamentation overtook his ability to speak.

Jonathan held him tightly as he cried, grateful that Mayson couldn't see his face.

"She marked me, Jonny. She marked me for everyone who came after. I just wanted a mother, Jonny. Why couldn't she just be my mommy? I needed her. I needed..."

Jonathan held him tighter, kissing away his tears, whispering sweet nothings to him, until he calmed down and eventually fell asleep in his arms.