we're all broken, we all end up alone || Quibs {16+ for mature themes}

The lonely boy sat in the chair placed in front of the desk, pale head resting on skinny arms, raven tangles spilling down in front of his eyes, making him look like a stranger that had intruded days before. He sighed, blinking lazily in the late afternoon sun, content in basking in the dark golden light like a feline. Dead plants adorned the windowsill, life long since leached from them, making their leaves brittle and hard and prone to breaking at the slightest touch, their stems withered and lifeless, drooping to the ground. He had stopped taking care of them a long time ago, as there were more important things to do than to care for household plants. Besides, he never really had much of a green thumb to begin with, and as a child was not allowed to go anywhere near the garden. Why he had thought he could take care of these things, nurture them like children, he hadn’t had the faintest idea. It was a lazy day for the cabin leader, who stroked a chess piece on the board. As always, he was playing against himself, and as always, he was winning. Tiberius had yet to find a worry foe, even the Athena campers had let him down, and so he had decreed that he was the only worthy adversary for his mind. Ty hummed one of Mozart’s many pieces, gears whirring and clicking inside his young and intelligent mind. 

Try as he may though, he just couldn’t continue to play chess. For thirty minutes he had been sitting there, hands grasping random game pieces like they were his lifeline. The ivory ones were almost the exact colour of his skin, which made Tibs sad. He didn’t like being a ghost, it made him feel stupid and insignificant, but the sun didn’t like him and never graced him with a little bit of gold hues on his arms and legs. The ebony queen stuck out like an ink blotch among white snow, and Tiberius knew that she didn’t belong. However, the blackness was so deep and so beautiful that Ty couldn’t bear to let it leave him. It seemed stupid to be attached to such an item, but he was. He loved the black queen. There was suddenly a knock on the door, light and timid, and so Tiberius rubbed his eyes. They were blue today, so colourless they were almost grey. Ty mumbled something, sitting up and letting his hands run up through his inky tendrils of silky hair. He wore a black sweater vest over a grey collared up shirt, which was wrinkled from sleeping in it, and black pants with black dress shoes. Even on a so called lazy day, Tiberius still dressed to impress, and although leached of colour and being an overall boring person with nothing to offer the world, was still impeccably handsome. 

In came two boys, and they were boys that Tibs had never seem before. They seemed calm enough, placid smiles on their tanned and scarred faces. But even so, Ty twisted the ring on his finger, pushing his newfound anxiety down into the deep recesses of his mind, where the voice was barely a whisper. These boys were not here to hurt him, they couldn’t have. Tiberius had done nothing to them, had done nothing to warrant a punishing. “Good afternoon,” Tibs greeted them, smiling. Smiling was always easy for him when it came to strangers, because they didn’t know the little tricks that the demigod did when he was upset or nervous. The tired glint in his eyes, the feet tapping. His visitors merely nodded, looking around the room as if they were inspecting it. Tiberius was sure that a cabin check wasn’t issued today, as he had not heard anything from his fellow cabin leaders. They made approving noises and nodded to one another, before springing on the unguarded demigod. 

Tiberius yelled as one landed on top of him, smashing his back against the desk and disrupting the unfinished chess game and dozens of wayward papers that had still failed to find a suitable home. There wasn’t anytime to question the boy’s motives, and so Ty reached behind him with one hand, the other on the kid’s face, trying to blind him or stall him from hurting him further. When he had grabbed hold of a plant, he smashed the pot over the boy’s head, sending dirt flying over every single surface in a five inch radius, grinding deep into the carpet. The boy fell to the ground, dazed but conscious. Tiberius stood up and took off his ring, which unfurled into his weapon. The other boy hurled at him, tackling Tibs to the ground before he had a sense or clue of what was going on. Soon he was on the ground, and Tiberius felt a rag being pressed into his nose and mouth, restricting his airways. He screamed again and again, hoping that someone, anyone, would hear his cries for help. He thrashed around, managing to slightly graze the boy’s side with his scythe. But he was growing weak, blackness filling his vision where there was once colour and light. There was a dull pain on his forearm, followed by a strange, warm wetness. Tiberius knew it was blood, but he didn’t have the energy or the air to fight back. The last thing he saw before he was rendered unconscious was a broken picture frame on the floor beside him, glass blooming from the picture of him and Quinn.

It wasn’t until about a half an hour had past did Tiberius wake up to the sounds of quarrelling. His vision was still hazy, colours blurred into one continuous colour of brown and green and blue. He groaned and tried to sit up. Ty didn’t know where he was, or why he was in this place that smelled of a mixture of blood and forest and fire. Something faint registered in his memory, something from long ago that the chess player had tried so hard to cover up. For the past few months, it had been working. As long as Tibs flooded out the memory of Kronos’ camp and being captured, he could smile and do everything he had wanted. However, if he even thought for one second of that night, he was a wreck, tears and hair pulling and screaming, and Ty was reduced to a scared little child in a matter of minutes, wanting only the comfort of his little sister. The only reason why he chose Charlotte in that situation instead of Quinn is because the daughter of Apollo had brought that wrath upon him. She alone, with her fiery patterns and stubborn attitudes had been the one to taunt and tease Tiberius with thoughts of that night and day. It was because of that, because the thought of her turning to the dark side was too much for him, that Ty refused to go to her. Now it seemed that he was captured again, and the smells and blurry hazes of colours were the demigods first clue’s as to who had captured him.

Kronos’ army of followers. Tiberius tried to sit up, tried to avert the danger that he knew he was in. But he couldn’t. There were restraints on his wrists, the cold metal resting lightly on his pale skin. Ty was tied down, unable to do much except lift his head. Needless to say the boy freaked out a little, thrashed around in his restraints, but not yelling out in desperation or pain. His vision had returned to him now, and Ty was able to see that there were three boys around him, one holding a bandage to the side of his stomach, and one clutching a bag of ice to his head. Those had to have been the boys that had knocked him out with the rag. Tibs could still taste the dirt and metal combination that had been on the cloth, and it left a rotten taste in his mouth, along with the sensation of dryness. He merely stared at his three capturers, stone cold gaze filling his blue eyes like water filling a glass. Ty would not draw attention to himself, they would notice his awakens soon enough, and then he knew that the pain would start thereafter. Tiberius Winters was an intelligent son of Aphrodite, and he knew what to do in these situations. After all, this had not been his first time being kidnapped. Staying quiet right now would be his best option, and so the cabin leader watched as the three boys argued over petty things.

Soon though, they noticed him, just as Tibs knew they would. One boy, the one with the ice pack, walked up to him and sneered. “Look who’s awake.” He taunted Tiberius, and his face was so close that Ty could taste the breakfast that he had. Tiberius wasn’t happy, not in the slightest. He was infuriated, red hot rage boiling out of him like river rapids. Not again. He would not be the weak link in this equation, he would not be their puppet to toy with, to taunt, to tease. No. Tiberius Winters would fight back for as long as he could. And if he died? Well, then he hoped he would die a hero and not a coward. “Go to hell.” Ty said, spitting in the other boys face. This warranted a yell from his victim, and Tibs felt his hair being grabbed in a not gentle fist. He knew that would happen. For every action there was an equal and opposite reaction, and this was no exception. “You’ve got guts, lover boy, I’ll grant you that much. However, that’s not gonna stop me from hurting you until you squeal like a pig. I hope that that girl of yours.. what’s her name? Queen?”

“Quinn,” The new, uninjured boy put in helpfully, arms folded.

“Quinn, whatever. Anyways, I hope she can hear you scream.” The boy slammed Ty’s head on whatever surface he was on, not hard enough to knock him out again, but hard enough to make the world a little less bright and a little more hazy and confusing. 

Tibs laughed, and it wasn’t a light and airy one that he used around Quinn. It sounded like a wild animal, almost guttural. “I apologise, gentlemen, I really do. But you are not going to get that reaction out of me.” Tiberius was scaring himself, but it was a defence mechanism. Acting like he was mad to the point where he should be thrown in bedlam. The only alternative was screaming out for Quinn, for his lovely Quinn to come and save him once again, and Tibs was not going to do that to her. No, he’d protect Quinn from harm, even if that meant dying in the process.  

Ty wondered what Quinn would think of him now, bruised and bloodied, beaten up to the point where he was nearly unrecognisable. She would probably think him weak, weak as a newborn lamb in the springtime and as fragile as a rose made of glass, something not to be tampered with because while it was beautiful as the flowers in may, it was equally as pathetic. Tiberius wouldn’t blame her if she thought that of him, because that’s what he thought of himself. Not a hero but a coward, and although he kept his promise to the demigods of not screaming her name, he still screamed. Every deep scratch they gave him, every bruise they administered upon his pale skin was like a death sentence to Tibs. So he screamed. He screamed as he pleaded, fury and fear alight in his eyes, which were convulsing between green and grey and blue like his rapid heartbeat, not sure which colour to settle on. Everything hurt, even his mind. Quinn had brought this upon him with her scorching wrath, and if it hadn’t been for her he would have never had to deal with this. Of course, it was his own fault too. He should have left her alone to do her own things, but Ty needed to be protective over someone, and Quinn just happened to be that unlucky lady.

One more guttural scream issued from Tiberius’ throat, raw and sore and loud enough that it made birds in the nearby forest fly away from the non-existent danger before one of the demigods stopped the other two. “He hasn’t said her name, this is freaking pointless. We’re running out of time. I think we should move onto part two of the exercise?” The others agreed, and poor defenceless Ty laid there upon the metal table, breathing quickly as blood covered almost every inch of his bare skin. They had long ago ripped off his shirt quite unceremoniously, tired of just slicing his arms and face to ribbons of flesh and bone. He probably deserved what was coming to him. This is what he got for defying higher powers. When he defied his father and kept on dating Quinn, Tiberius was disowned. When he defied Quinn months back and kept following her into Kronos’ camp, he was punished then too, almost to the point of death. Tiberius Winters was a rebel, and rebels did not last long in this world. The boy who had stopped the beatings walked up to Ty, face so close that the cabin leader could see his rotten teeth and smell his horrible breath and almost taste the crazy that poured down his face in droplets of sweat. “Do you know who my father is, little man?” Tibs shook his head. “Zeus. And do you know what that means, little cockroach?” Tibs shook his head again. “That means I have the power of electrocution at my fingertips. So, let’s begin.” Until now, Tiberius hadn’t noticed that he’d been crying, but he registered faint tears on his cheeks, but they were not of sadness, they were of fear. He was utterly frightened for his life.

The other two boys stepped away, while the child of Zeus stepped behind Ty, putting the pads of his fingers on the sides of Ty’s head. “No. No, no, please no. Don’t. Oh gods, please, I’m begging you! No! Don’t!” Tiberius screamed, fighting against the metal restraints of his confinement, trying as hard as he could to get away from these maniacs and freaks, trying to get away from all the demigods and stories of mythology. His father had once told him that men without rule were boys, and boys, in turn, were greedy savages, and up until now Tibs had no cause to believe him, but he did now. Being a demigod was a death certificate, your soul on a platter, and Ty wished in that moment he would have never been born. He was so scared and so frightened that he shook, every bone and muscle turned to jelly and Tibs didn’t even remember what happiness felt like. 

Then came the electric pulse, raging throughout his body like a firestorm, and that was when Tiberius snapped. “Quinn!” His saviour, his queen, his everything. Quinn was a beacon of light amongst the darkness, bringing in Ty when he had gone to far out to sea and become lost in the madness of his mind. The other demigods laughed, triumphant that they had succeeded. Tibs kept screaming her name, over and over again, wishing that she would come to his rescue and tell him it was okay and make him well again. No matter what Quinn would do to him, Tiberius would always forgive her, and this was no exception. When he looked ahead of him, Ty saw two figures. A siren and a girl with blonde hair as bright and as brilliant as the sun. Quinn. She’d come, just as Ty knew she would. The electrical pulses never ceased, and it hurt so much, but the pain diminished a little when Ty saw her. And then the world went unexpectedly black. 

Everything was black, and then everything was white. The boy thought himself dead, because he knew from the countless stories he had read as a child that the first step towards heaven was the light, the purest and brightest light that made everything warm and fuzzy. Or was it cold and harsh, like the north wind? Tiberius didn’t want to go, and even in death he was a coward. He had feared oblivion since a young boy, getting scared even when he was left alone in the dark for long periods of time, because he lost track of the hours and he didn’t know if anyone was going to come back for him, but someone always did. Tibs wondered if there was going to be someone to save him from the light that burned his eyes. He looked down at his hands, which were perfectly pale, no scratches or cuts or bruises to adorn the skin like horrible tattoos. His breathing was still rapid, and Ty focused on calming down. Having a panic attack was not going to help him keep from dying. So that’s what he did. Breathe in, breathe out. Go to your happy place. Where was his happy place? Tiberius couldn’t rightly remember, but he thought it had to have been his home in Albany, because he couldn’t remember anywhere else. 

After a while the demigod became conscious again, swimming in a pool of confusion and practically drowning in his own blood. His body still was still broken, his mind even more so. Ty could feel his skull buzz and tingle, making it hard to concentrate on opening his eyes. Was he on a sugar high? No, his diet was strict, created by his father to make Tiberius lanky and slender like a stick, and so he had barely any sugar, although he put two cubes of it into his morning tea. There was also the faint smell of burnt things, and so Ty thought of Gabriel, and how bad he was at cooking. The kitchen was probably up in flames right now, and so he thought he should go rescue his step-mothers china and probably scold Gabriel and put out the fire. Tiberius had done that in years past, and he was good at putting out fires. It was also hot in his bedroom, although he slept on something cold and metal. As Tibs was known to fall asleep anywhere, much like a cat, he wasn’t too alarmed at this, thinking it to be the most normal thing currently in existence. He wondered what the time was, and thought that if it was past noon than father would have his hide. It was Tibs’ job to look after the little ones in the daytime, keep them from drinking poison and teaching them to stay out of trouble. Ty couldn’t let his father down. Not again. The boy couldn’t stand the look on his father’s face when he’d failed him. It was a mixture of anger and pity and disappointment, and it made Tiberius feel like he was worthless. 

Finally he registered the feeling of hands running through his hair. “Qui-“ Tiberius began to protest, but found that his mouth was dry and sore and raw and had the consistency of sand. He licked his lips, softly nudging his head away from the hands. After a while, when he regained his sense of speech and the feeling of his tongue, Tibs tried again. “Quit it, ‘Ponine. If you fail to cease braiding and putting glitter in my hair I shall have to get father to punish you with the utmost severity.” But when he opened his eyes, Tiberius realised that he was not at home. He wasn’t in his room, surrounded by mahogany bookshelves with glorious volumes of Shakespeare and Dickens filling the empty spaces. Those books were his friends, and his friends were gone. Where was he? TIbs didn’t have any idea. He jumped up clumsily, finding that his limbs didn’t want to coroperate, and so he fell on the floor of wherever he was. The only company in the room was a crying girl with bloodied skin, hair like dirty sunlight. She was unconditionally beautiful, even Tiberius could see that in his confused haze, but she was a mystery to him. Ty backed up, bloodshot grey eyes wide with fright. This girl could be a killer, at least that’s what she looked like to him. She even had a weapon, and there was a knocked out boy on the floor beside her. Was she going to kill him? “W-who are you?” Ty stammered out, continuing to back up on his hands. “Where am I?” There was silence, pitiful, mocking silence. “WHERE THE HELL AM I?” Tiberius screamed, hurting his throat even more.

The boy shook his head at the strange girl. Tears threatened to leak out of his eyes, a sign of weakness. Father had never permitted crying in his household, and even little Victor, not even eight, was forbidden from crying. Tiberius would not show the girls weakness, because he was afraid and alone and scared. She could be a murderer. She could kill him. When she stepped towards him, Ty shouted. “Get away from me! Or I swear I will…” What was he going to threaten her with? There was nothing in the grimy tent except unmoving bodies and a metal table with blood for a tablecloth. Tibs had no doubt in his mind that the blood was his. His entire body was bruised and bloodied and it hurt, tender and sore when the skin was ripped away. The red liquid fell into his face, trailing down his cheeks, warm and sticky. Tiberius looked around the tent, finding a small and probably useless dagger, but it was enough. When he held it the boy trembled. Weapons scared him, and he knew deep down that there would be no way in hell that he could kill this girl. It was true that Tiberius was a coward, but he would be damned if he let the girl see through his facade. “I’ll kill you.” A shaking dagger was pointed at the girl. “Don’t take another step!” Ty said, authority filling his fear stuck voice. This tone always worked on his siblings, so maybe it would work or her too. Tiberius ignored her words of how he was hurt. Why would she care? Didn’t she do this to him? “You did this to me, didn’t you?” He asked her. “And don’t lie to me.” 

Ty was frustrated. He didn’t know where he was, or why he was where he was. He didn’t know who the bloodied blonde girl in front of him was. Fear grabbed at his stomach, clawing into his intestines and making an awful pit in his stomach that made him want to throw up. The tears were coming on stronger now, red hot and blazing on his waterline, and though Tibs tried to fight them, they came and ran down his face, intermingling with the blood and making the colours altogether almost a pink. “I don’t. I do not remember who you are.” Tiberius said calmly, pressing his hands to his face, trying to make sense of the jumbled confusion he found himself in. After a few moments of deep breathing, and sobbing with his body convulsing with his cries, Ty looked at the girl, grey eyes bloodshot and worried. “Should I?” He watched as the strange girl examined his face, and Tiberius scrambled a little bit more backwards. People never stared at him. He wasn’t anything special except for a pretty face, one of those painted china dolls on display for christmas. But now Ty couldn’t have been pretty. “Stop looking at me.” This was no time for manners or charades. Later, if Tibs felt bad enough, he’d apologise to the girl, but right now he needed answers, and he would get them by any means possible. 

The small dagger was still aimed at the girl, and Tiberius was still freaking out. Why was he here? What had he done wrong? Last night he was in his bed, listening to some Vivaldi and reading Romeo and Juliet, his favourite book besides The Picture of Dorian Grey. Ty was sure that the last thing he could recall was Lottie coming in to wish him a good night. Charlotte. At the very thought of her name Ty went frantic, screaming her name. If he was here in the tent, where was his baby sister? The one he’d protected since birth? In his fury, he got up and walked towards the girl, stumbling and falling a few times, like a newborn foal. “Where is she?! What have you done to her?” He screamed in her face, dagger pointed under her chin, although there was no way he’d actually draw blood. Even now in the face of danger, Tiberius Winters was a coward and fool. “Why should I trust you? You’ve beaten me up and stolen my family. Give me one good reason why I should go with you and trust you. You’re a stranger to me and I don't trust you with my life.” Soft silver eyes went stone cold, losing the warmth and lustre they had towards the people that he loved.