Scalding Scars: Burnt from Love

Intended for mature audiences. 16+

TW: Swearing, surgery and recovery, physical violence/abuse: Burns/Scalding water

If transphobic, please leave. That said, Alex is not Trans; he/she simply has a very complicated situation and history which this short story does not fully divulge.

Scalding Scars: Burnt from Love

“Dammit, Malik-”

“Giovanni, Please, I-”

“I know… I get it… But couldn’t you…”

Alex listened, silent, as the dark, blurry figures spoke in hushed voices. It’d be okay. This was for the best. If he didn’t…

“I can’t,” Malik pressed. “He has to have them removed. Now.”

The other man, his voice low and tired, conceded.

“Will I have to stay for long?” Alex asked.

Silence. The clock tick, tick, ticked along. A long sigh.

“One Month.”

One month. That long? “But what about the caravan?”

“They’ll move on without us,” Malik said. “Then, we’ll find a new one.”

A whole month. Sitting. Healing. Growing, but not stronger. Alex nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright now, Alex; Lay back and just hold still, okay? I’m gonna put this mask on your face, and you’re gonna take some nice, big, slow breaths for me. Sound good?” Doctor Giovanni asked.

Alex nodded and obediently lay back. Slowly, the dark, blurry figure approached, picked something up from the shiny table, and placed a strange, plastic mask on his face.

Now, slow, deep breaths. In… and out… Good job. Now, you just stay there, and I’ll get ready while you relax, sound good?

Alex nodded. What choice did he have? If he ran, he’d have to traverse the mountains and the blurry, uneven trails without help. And more than that, he’d be nothing but an orphan. A beggar. Again.

A Sharp pain pierced his side, and he flinched, but… The ceiling grew darker, his eyelids heavy.

“This won’t take long, Alex. You’ll be back on the road before you know it. If anything, I’d bet… sometimes the best… You should… Ale-?”

Another shot of pain, more dull… Then, floating. Silence. Darkness…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His senses came back in waves, consciousness slipping in and out. Then, the nausea hit. Blurry eyes jolted awake, hands scrambled; he tried to sit up, but- he cried out, gasping. His chest felt tight and heavy, like a barrel of bricks had been placed upon him. “Ma-” he gasped, “Mali- ghah! Xair-!” he cried. “Xair! Hel- help! Please, where?” Dark. Dark… and cold.

A warm weight covered his body and pulled him close. “It’s okay, I’m right here,” Malik hushed. “I’m right here, Alex. You’re okay, I’ve got you. I promise, you’re safe,” he crooned, his deep voice breaking. “I’ve got you now.”

It hurt. And it was dark. Where…

“We’re at Dr. Giovanni’s, in the mountains. We had to remove your breasts, remember? He did it. You’re okay. He said the procedure did great!” reassured weakly.

Giovanni… That’s right. And I- “He did i-?” he gasped.

“Yes, it’s alright. Listen, just relax. You’ll feel better soon, just hold on. I’ll get Giovanni in here, and he’ll fix your IV. Just-” Malik covered Alex’s ears and yelled, “GIOVANNI!! Get yer BITCH-ASS In here right NOW!”

Crashing, the thud of steps, he could barely see, but it was so loud… his head pounded, ears ringing. The door crashed open, knocking over a metal table and whatever utensils had once been on it. Alex flinched, locking his eyes shut.

“Get off him!” Giovanni cried, “You’re gonna suffocate him for Fuck’s sake! Shit, what happened?”

“He woke up, and he was just…”

“Out the way, and Fucking get OFF of him! Shit, it's three in the damn morning, and I have to…” He prattled on, grumbling curses and complaints, but he moved about the bed, moving and adjusting little things till he was satisfied. “There. Happy~? He’ll be fine till morning, so I swear, DO NOT wake me again, you damn grizzly.” He sighed and slowly trudged back out the door. “Fucking hell, these mercs… I can’t believe I’m still-” his voice faded out, and Malik fell back on the bed beside Alex, still clutching his hand. Silent tears plopped on Alex’s wrist, and the dark silence took him again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a long, quiet week and a half, Dr. Giovanni removed the drains from Alex’s chest. Another week passed slowly. A few travelers here and there, and the musical sing-song of birds just outside…

On the 18th morning, Malik asked to check the scars. He was silent as he ran his fingers along the pale line, and his face grew dark. Later that evening, he returned with a pitcher of water. “How about some tea?”

Alex nodded, moving toward the little table in the corner.

But first… his voice caught. Come here.

Alex paused. “Why?”

“Just,” he lowered his voice, “come here. I have something for you.”

“For me? What is it?”

His dark shoulders tensed. “Come here. Take your shirt off, and hold your arms out to the sides.”

Hesitant, Alex stepped forward and removed the sterile, white shirt.

“Now,” his voice trembled, “close your eyes.”

“Why-?”

“Just DO IT!” he yelled.

Alex froze. “But why do I need to-?”

“Dammit,” Malik grabbed Alex’s wrist, yanking it to the side. “I said just DO IT!”

“Malik, please your scaring me! I-”

Malik wrenched the pitcher toward Alex.

Scalding water exploded against Alex’s chest. Alex screamed, the blood-curdling sound reverberating off the concrete walls. Hissing water. Burning flesh. Alex swung, fist connecting with skull and the two stumbled away from each other.

Giovanni barreled into the small room, swept his eyes over the two, over the puddle of steaming water, swung his own fist at Malik, knocking him out, and ran over to Alex, who stood shaking at the center of the room.

The room spun around him. Skin blistered and red, Alex weakly resisted Giovanni’s hands.

Giovanni swore, tore out a pocket knife from his trousers, and ripped the remaining fabric from Alex’s body, despite Alex’s resistance. Then, he ran out of the room, dragging Malik along behind him. He quickly returned to usher Alex into the Bathroom where he drew a bath, directed Alex to step in, and began dumping cold cupfuls of water over the burns.

The Following days were painful, and just as quiet as the days before. Malik didn’t return. Not for a long time. He argued it was for my sake. To hide the scars. But the searing pain… Alex avoided him, remaining mute when he visited.

That one act. Malik Xairyn, The Grizzly of the West… He’d been Alex’s… Savior! Years of support, mentorship, guidance, and paternal love… But now, the scars that blossomed from his skin shone red as a testament to that love. He was no savior; he was only a scarred man himself.

Was this really a betrayal? Idk.. I'd consider it more of a betrayal of trust, but I feel like that's close enough.

All thoughts, comments, or advice is highly appreciated! I know this is a hard story to read... It was hard to write too! Mind you, I didn't actually edit anything besides using grammarly for some spell-checks, so it may not be the most polished. I wrote this in one sitting in the span of about 3 hrs, but I'd been thinking about Alex's backstory for so long and the ideas just started flowing today, so I mean... I'll take it!