Of Whispers and Shouts

by tatteredcloth

Summary:

"S.Q. opened his mouth to speak, to assure Mr Benedict that it was only a nightmare, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. It hadn’t been just a nightmare; it’d been a memory."

 

Or in which found memories are difficult to deal with when you didn't know they were there to find

 

Officially abandoned.

Notes:

TW for:
Descriptions of past emotional and physical abuse
Gaslighting

Chapter 1: Nightmarish

S.Q. was staring frozen before his dad. His mouth was hanging open, in shock at what he’d just said. He had just talked back, yelled at his dad. He had been mad with him before, plenty of times, but he'd never talked back.

His dad didn't look angry; his face appeared entirely passive as they stood in the middle of his office, and that was honestly scarier than if he'd been yelling. Yelling S.Q. could deal with, had dealt with many times before. He would be reprimanded for his misunderstanding or blunder and they'd move on. He might get restricted privileges for a time. But silence? Silence meant only bad things when it came to his dad. Silence meant the waiting room.

Shivering at the thought, S.Q. began to panic, quickly trying to retract his words. "I-I'm sorry! I di- I- I-"

"Shut up." His dad growled, and S.Q. immediately slammed his mouth shut. He was embarrassed to say it but he really hoped this meant he'd start yelling soon and that would be it.

"Why must you always run your mouth?"

Mr Curtain moved closer to S.Q. to look down upon his now trembling form. He knew his dad would be upset if he didn’t look him in the eyes, but he felt too scared to do anything but stare at his feet. When S.Q. didn’t meet his eyes, his chin was yanked harshly upwards by Mr Curtain’s hand. His dad studied his face for a moment before speaking. "Your actions today directly defied my rules and yet you have the gall to stand here and yell at me? Your own father?"

Here his gaze softened and he let go of S.Q.’s chin, taking a step back. S.Q. could have collapsed in relief. He didn’t dare to break eye contact again, lest it anger his dad more.

"You know I put these rules in place to protect you, S.Q.." He said gently, sighing. S.Q. nodded, opening his mouth to give a verbal response, but quickly realized that wasn't a good idea, as his dad's gaze turned cold again.

"Then why must you defy me? You have been told time and time again not to bring anyone into the forest, and still today it is as if you've forgotten."

Without thinking, S.Q. tried to apologize again. “I- I haven't forgotten, I just-”

“Shut up!” His dad roared, and S.Q. suddenly felt a sharp sting in his cheek. He stumbled back, clutching his cheek, staring confused at his dad, who still had his arm partially extended from the slap he’d delivered. The room was silent save for his dad’s heavy breathing and his own gasping breaths. S.Q.’s eyes began to well with tears that made his vision blurry, though he could still see the anger in his dad’s eyes. S.Q. was shocked. He had been expecting a session in the waiting room; his dad had never…

Mr Curtain was silently seething, glaring at him fiercely, “You… you …”

He seemed at a loss for words for a moment, turning away from S.Q.. After a moment he pulled himself together, straightening up and turning his face to its usual neutral tone. He turned and walked to his desk, turning handles and knobs before grabbing something from a drawer that popped out of nowhere. S.Q. couldn’t make out the item but he knew it couldn’t be anything good as Mr Curtain’s cold eyes locked on him. He stalked back towards S.Q. to stand formidably in front of him, voice cold and threatening as he spoke.

“You will learn to listen…”

Chapter 2: Comforting

Notes:

TW for:
Referenced past emotional and physical abuse

S.Q. woke up screaming.

He cut himself off with a sob, gasping for breath and covering his mouth with his hand to stifle his cries. He huddled under his blanket, shaking as he tried to keep quiet. His dad’s words were ringing in his ears as he rolled the dream over in his head. It was one of only a few memories that had returned to him since he came to live with Mr Benedict only three days ago. He was unsure why they were flooding back so suddenly, although he suspected it might’ve been his distance from the institute coupled with Mr Benedict’s presence that triggered the memories of his father. He looked and sounded enough like him that hearing him suddenly or seeing him out of the corner of his eye had triggered memories twice in the short time he’d been here. Of course, he had never shared any of them with anyone. None of them even knew he had memories to find, and he hadn’t either until the first one hit.

It had been his second day at Mr Benedict’s house, and he had been quietly reading in his office while the older man worked. Mr Benedict had been looking over his papers, something involving the emergency, and sighed. The sigh was nothing special, but the familiar disappointed tone triggered something in his mind. S.Q. had suddenly remembered a part of a berating from his dad that he hadn’t previously known to have happened, and hurriedly made up the excuse that he wanted to draw in his room. Mr Benedict seemed to have believed it and he quickly rushed from the room, leaving the book behind. Drawing was really all he had been doing since he left the institute, besides reading the occasional book that one of the adults would set in front of him. He had spent the rest of the day in his room, doodling to keep busy and think about all that happened. He had needed the time to come to terms with what the memory meant for him; he had been brainswept, and it was his own dad who’d done it.

He quickly realized that it must have been, in some part, because S.Q. had gotten too close to the truth. Despite the emotions that the memory had dug up (an awful mix of fear and regret that sloshed in the pit of his stomach), he felt a little bit of relief that he wasn’t so idiotic that he never noticed any signs of his dad’s wrongdoings. He had, his dad just made sure he never remembered.

The second memory had been shorter, appearing only a few hours before the present time, shortly before S.Q. had gone to bed. He had been simply walking to his room to sleep when he caught Mr Benedict in his office out of the corner of his eye. He had appeared as if he were yelling at someone S.Q. couldn’t see, and the following memory (one of his dad screaming in his face) shocked him so much that he almost fell over. It only lasted a second and he hurriedly rushed to bed afterwards. It was only after he had calmed down from the shock of the new memory that he realized Mr Benedict had been laughing.

S.Q. wasn’t sure what triggered his nightmare, but it might have appeared without any reason. He remembered Milligan saying that he had awoken one day to remember that he enjoyed fishing, with no idea how he had figured it out.

S.Q. came back to the present at the sound of doors opening down the hall, and realized he had woken everyone up. He felt shame wrestle in his stomach as he tucked himself deeper into his blanket, still crying. His door opened carefully, but S.Q. couldn’t see who had opened it with his head under the blankets. He heard more people come near, and with a shuffle of footsteps and muffled words, one of them entered the room.

“S.Q.?” He heard a voice say and he tensed. His dad’s voice still rocked around in his head from the nightmare and he almost feared he had found him in the night. But as he came to his senses more he was able to pick out the differences in tone that assured him of Mr Benedict's presence.

He peeked his head out from under the blanket, just enough to lock eyes with Mr Benedict. He was lit only with the light from the hall, but S.Q. could still see the concern written on his face. He was standing near the head of his bed, hands held together in front of him and clearly very worried for S.Q.

S.Q. opened his mouth to speak, to assure Mr Benedict that it was only a nightmare, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. It hadn’t been just a nightmare; it’d been a memory, one that shook him to his core. He found he could only let out a choked sob and began to cry loudly into his hands. Mr Benedict seemed at a loss and simply sat gently on the bed. S.Q. felt a delicate hand on his back and flinched away at the sudden touch. The hand quickly retracted, and S.Q. continued to shake in silence. When his sobs finally slowed to hiccups, he sat up in the bed, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Mr Benedict’s face still held a look of concern, though he managed to give S.Q. a reassuring smile.

He jumped when he heard a scuffle begin somewhere in the house, but Mr Benedict only had an amused look on his face as he stared at the doorway. Number Two and Rhonda, who he realized had been standing in the doorway the whole time, moved to the side. A sudden rush of footsteps came towards the room, and a blur jumped at him without warning. It took him a moment to realize that it was Kate Wetherall hugging him, not an attack from some beast. He could see the other children over her shoulder, even Constance, and Milligan was crossing his arms behind them.

“I couldn’t stop them all,” Milligan said in explanation, though grinning slightly at his daughter’s antics.

Kate pulled away from the hug, allowing circulation to return to S.Q.’s arms.

“Are you okay?” She asked, and how could he respond to that? The best he could do was shrug his shoulders and look down at his blanket.

“Well, that’s alright; we’re gonna make it better!” She replied, standing up and putting her hands on her hips proudly, “We can hang out all day and cheer you up!”

She looked over her shoulder as if seeking confirmation from the other kids. They all spoke affirmations (well, Constance just huffed, which was good enough) and she moved away to give him space.

“While that sounds like a wonderful idea,” Mr Benedict said, smiling, “It is still three in the morning; I think it best we go back to sleep and wake up at a more appropriate time.”

Kate huffs but listens, leading the way as the kids walk back down the hall, calling goodbyes to S.Q. and the adults.

Mr Benedict turned to S.Q., humour still in his eyes from Kate’s entrance. S.Q. felt a wave of comfort under his gaze that he had never felt with his dad. Despite this, looking into his brown eyes, those so much like S.Q.’s father’s, he felt the fear from his memory return and he averted his gaze. Mr Benedict seemed to sense the returning fear, although likely attributing it to a fear of facing a nightmare again, not of facing his dad.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get back to sleep?” He asked, standing from the bed, though he lingered by S.Q. like a guard protecting something irreplaceable.

S.Q. nodded; he was exhausted, although he didn’t want to go back to sleep. He felt as if he closed his eyes he would open them to find his dad’s piercing gaze instead of Mr Benedict’s kind one.

"Would you like one of us to stay with you until you fall asleep?" Mr Benedict asked, "I've found it is a useful tactic to ward off nightmares."

Of course , S.Q. thought, with Mr Benedict's narcolepsy he must have nightmares all the time . S.Q. felt embarrassed that he woke the whole house over his nightmare when Mr Benedict probably had it way worse. Still, the thought of having one of them stay with him was comforting. He supposed he could let himself be selfish, just this once. He didn't want any of them to lose sleep though…

S.Q. nodded, only a small gesture, and, still feeling unable to form words, he pointed shakily to Number Two. It had been explained to him that she barely slept, so at least he wouldn't be keeping her up. Mr Benedict nodded, then moved from his place at the head of S.Q.'s bed to stand by the doorway as Number Two slipped past him into the room. She had an unreadable look on her face that S.Q. couldn’t quite place, as she pulled the chair over from his desk to sit by his bed. Mr Benedict, Milligan, and Rhonda bid their goodbyes, closing the door.

Now alone with Number Two, S.Q. felt embarrassed. Even if he wasn’t keeping her up, she probably had better things to do than watch over him. He laid down and turned his back to her, slightly hoping she would assume he fell asleep quickly and be able to get on with her work. What he hadn’t expected was to feel her hand touch his hair. He was shocked for a moment, flinching from her touch as a zap of some distant memory tickled his mind. Telling from the sudden stillness of her breathing she had frozen at his movement. As he sat in silence, head curled into his chest, he realized how nice the touch had felt. He’d been shying away from contact since he’d been away from the institute, mostly because it was all so new to him. He never really received hugs from his dad, and he never had any friends to receive positive contact from either. When Reynie had hugged him at the institute after his dad had flown off, it was honestly the first hug he’d gotten in years.

He hesitantly moved his head back to touch Number Two’s hand again, and she seemed to understand. She carefully petted his hair and he all but melted into the touch. He felt himself smile softly as his eyes drooped shut.

It felt childish to think that her presence would ward off his nightmares (something contained only to his head) but as he drifted off to sleep he realized he felt the safest he had in ages.

Chapter 3: Rhythmic

Notes:

TW for:
Referenced past emotional and physical abuse

 

I'm sorry for missing my scheduled publish date; I wasn't confident in this chapter, so I felt the need to spend extra time editing. Thank you for your patience!
Also, I am aware that Mr Curtain seems a little OOC for the tv show, I'm trying to incorporate book elements into this if I can, which also means he's Mr Curtain, not Dr Curtain.

As S.Q. groggily awoke, he sensed a distinct lack of something that immediately made him shiver. In the moments it took his brain to supply him with that conclusion, it had simultaneously gathered up the events of the night and thrown them to the forefront of his mind. It was then that he put the pieces together that the thing missing was Number Two.

Of course, he hadn’t expected her to stay the whole night; she had plenty of work to do, what with the aftereffects of the Emergency, and she likely left shortly after he had drifted off. Still, he missed her comforting presence in the room.

He shook his head to dispel the childish thoughts and glanced at the clock hung in his room. Upon noticing the time he nearly fell out of bed in his hurry to stand. It was 7:28, nearly a half hour past the time he’d usually get up. He didn’t need to wake up at 7:00 (there had yet to be any pressing matters he had to attend to while at Mr Benedict’s house) but he felt uncomfortable breaking from his schedule at the institute. With all the changes lately, he needed to keep some form of routine. He felt slightly overwhelmed at the thought of running late (breakfast was at 8:00, same as at the institute) and rushed over to the door. He quietly opened it a crack, peeking into the hallway. He didn’t see anyone, though he could hear talking from down the hall. It was likely that everyone was preparing breakfast.

He grabbed a change of clothes and snuck down the hall in the opposite direction; he needed to shower and make himself presentable before breakfast. As he entered the bathroom he glanced in the mirror and had to do a double take. His usually straightened hair was instead a curly nest upon his head. He ran his fingers through it, finding that it at least wasn't hopelessly tangled.

He always had his hair straightened at the institute; a part of his dad's necessity to keep everything presentable. S.Q. could probably straighten his hair with his eyes closed by this point, having done it for so many years. In fact, he practically had, since he rarely ever saw his reflection, what with the lack of mirrors at the institute. He realized that he had managed to forget to straighten it over the past three days. He ran his fingers through his hair again when his hand suddenly caught a snag in his hair, pulling his head with it.

 

 

“ Look at me when I’m talking to you !” His dad hissed, and he quickly locked eyes with him. His dad had a strong grip on his hair, holding S.Q.'s head to look directly at him, as S.Q.’s eyes brimmed with tears.

 

 

S.Q. gasped as he came back to the present, holding onto the sink to steady himself. It had happened in only a moment, as his waking memories seemed to do, but his breathing had still turned shaky. He realized that he had begun to tear up and quickly wiped his eyes. He slowly calmed himself, taking deep breaths, and sorted the memory to be looked over later.

He showered quickly, wanting to arrive on time for breakfast. The clothes he put on didn’t belong to him, nor did they fit him right, (the sweater was a size or two too large and the pants didn’t quite reach his ankles) but he didn’t mind. Mr Benedict had only prepared clothes for the other children since they had only expected to return with four kids, not five. Because of this, they had needed to improvise. Spare clothes had been gathered, and a plan to get him better-fitting clothes had been made. The sweater was likely one of the adult’s, though he didn’t know who, and the pants were a pair of Sticky’s that fit well enough.

S.Q. began looking for a hair straightener but sadly found nothing. It didn’t surprise him; everyone seemed to wear their hair natural. Only Rhonda styled her hair, and if she had a hair straightener it would be in her room to keep it away from the other kids. Who knew what Kate could get up to with one? He looked for any other way he could tame his hair, but, finding none, he sighed and left the bathroom.

It wasn’t like he disliked his hair like this, in fact, he quite enjoyed his curls. But as with waking up late, there had been so many changes lately that he was overwhelmed at the prospect of changing much else.

He was broken from his thoughts by a distant yell of “I’ll get it!” and footsteps hurrying in his direction. Suddenly, Kate was flying down the hall towards him, stopping just before collision.

“S.Q.’s up!” She called back toward the others. She smiled at him and raced off again.

S.Q. grinned at her energy as she flew past him into Reynie’s room, where she was likely grabbing something for him. He only took a few steps down the hall before she came rushing past him again. By the time he reached the dining room, she had already delivered the item she had gone to retrieve (a book Reynie was now searching for a section in) and sat down to check through her bucket.

Everyone was already seated at the table, although no one had served themselves yet. Mr Benedict looked up at S.Q. as he entered, smiling and gesturing for him to sit down. He sat next to Sticky, who was waiting patiently for Reynie to find what he was looking for. Kate and Constance sat across from them, and Kate had already finished putting her items back in her bucket. To S.Q.’s right sat the adults, quietly discussing the plans for the day. Sticky and Reynie were still in their pyjamas, as was Constance, but Kate was fully dressed and excited for the day.

“Finally!” Constance huffed as S.Q. sat, grabbing pancakes to move onto her plate.

S.Q. was nervous that he had been late, but double-checking the clock on the wall told him that Constance was simply acting as she always did. Reynie seemed to have found the page he was looking for and was reading the passage to Sticky, who listened intently as he scooped eggs onto his plate. The adult’s conversation paused as they all filled their plates with food, and S.Q. followed suit.

Kate turned to him as she shoved a pancake in her mouth. Chewing it quickly and swallowing, she spoke energetically to him. “So! What do you wanna do today? We haven't really hung out much, so I don’t know what you like to do, but we’re all gonna do stuff together, right?”

She turned to the other kids at this, and Sticky and Reynie nodded. Constance huffed but kept silent, and that seemed to be all they would get out of her. S.Q. knew that Constance was usually grumpy, but felt as if she particularly disliked him. Being Mr Curtain's son certainly didn’t help things.

He realized that Kate was still waiting for an answer and wracked his mind to think of what to say. At the institute, he only really did his art for fun. The few ‘friends’ he had had never really done any activities with him either, so he wasn’t even sure what they could do together.

“I dunno, what do you guys usually do?” He prompted, and Kate’s eyes lit up.

“Well, I like to explore the vents-” She paused and thought, “…but I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t like that.” She turned to the others for suggestions.

“We could do a jigsaw puzzle?” Reynie suggested, and Constance nodded with him. Seeing as Constance hated to agree with people, S.Q. took this to mean that she quite enjoyed puzzles.

“That sounds fun,” S.Q. said. He’d done some puzzles when he was young, before his dad had claimed him too old for such things. It had made him happy to see the picture come together, like painting but in squares. The patterns of the pieces were almost as fascinating as the finished picture.

“I believe I have a few thousand-piece puzzles somewhere in my office,” Mr Benedict said, having been listening to their conversation, “I’m sure we could find them under the books.”

Number Two scoffed at this, “I doubt we could find anything under this mess. We need to organize them all at some point.”

“Yes, well, that day is not today,” Mr Benedict said, and S.Q. could tell he was thinking about the work he still has to do. He and the other adults had been working nearly non-stop since they got back from the institute, trying to organize things with the kidnapped kids and helpers.

“You could join us once we find the puzzle,” Sticky offers, “All you’ve done is work, I’m sure some of it can wait.”

Mr Benedict, Milligan, and Number Two looked ready to politely disagree (S.Q. had a feeling they would work through the night if given the chance, and Number Two certainly could) but Rhonda spoke for them, “I think that would be a great idea.”

Notes:

Suggestions are welcome! I'd love to know how I can improve.

Notes:

Suggestions are welcome! I'd love to know how I can improve.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Riddles and Children Who Solve Them