Evenfall (87 page)

"Hsin," he murmured instead, as soothingly as he could, "It's just Boyd. You were having a nightmare."

Sin's hand didn't move but he didn't do anything else either; his entire body was tense and he stared at Boyd with those same unfocused, insane eyes for a long moment. Whatever was going through his mind was absolutely unreadable and the longer the moment dragged out, the more time it gave Boyd to think about what he would do if this ended terribly. He didn't know if he could get his wrist away from Sin easily but he had a free hand so he could at the very least grab his duffel bag just within reach and try to swing it at him. He would just need enough time to somehow remind Sin that he wasn't an enemy before Sin neutralized him like he was one.

But as suddenly as the crazed look had been there, Sin blinked and awareness returned. His body started to relax but his fingers did not release their hold.

"Boyd?" His voice was low, uncertain and sounded slightly strained as his chest rose and fell faster with each moment.

Although relief flooded through Boyd at the sound of his name, something in him twisted slightly at the tone it was said in. Somehow it was especially striking hearing such uncertainty within seconds of that insane lack of recognition, something that usually was a precursor to violence.

"Yes."

Sin was breathing hard, sweat glistening on his face and chest as he stared up at Boyd with a bewildered and concerned look on his face. "Wha-- did I hu--" He stopped speaking, eyebrows drawing together and he still did not pull his hand away.

It surprised Boyd that Sin would be worried about his health at such a moment. He shook his head and, not really knowing why he was doing it but not stopping himself anyway, placed his free hand on Sin's and lightly ran his thumb along it. "No," he assured him immediately. "I'm fine." He paused, feeling drawn into Sin's vulnerable, lost expression. "You looked upset so I woke you."

Sin stared at him, breath still coming fast and suddenly pulled Boyd down onto the bed next to him. Boyd was so startled that Sin actually wanted him closer that he let himself fall forward. Sin kept one arm on Boyd and raised his other hand, raking it through his sweaty hair and then pressing the heel of it against his closed eyes. "Fuck." He swallowed and took a breath, as if trying to control his breathing. "You shouldn't-- What if I--"

After a few seconds of staying very still in surprise, Boyd relaxed against the bed slowly so Sin wouldn't think he was frightened. He didn't know what to do other than that so he stayed still. Watching Sin struggle to regain control really struck him. He didn't want Sin to upset himself further by trying to appear impervious.

Boyd took a moment to respond. "It doesn't matter. I know I said some... cruel things the other day... but I could never just go back to sleep if you were upset." He hesitated just a moment. "You don't— If you're... hurt... you don't have to act like you aren't. I know I don't handle nightmares very well, and... I don't want you to think that I think you're weak if they distress you. Because I don't."

Sin did not respond at first but some of the tension bled out of his body and he took a shaky breath, swallowing noisily. He didn't move his hand and didn't look at Boyd, but he shook his head slowly. "You don't have to... worry about me. I don't want to unintentionally hurt you."

Boyd shook his head and frowned slightly. "It's alright. I understand potential consequences if I wake you from a nightmare; you're disoriented and confused, like anyone would be. I'd know you didn't mean to, that it's not really your fault." He tilted his head so he could watch Sin through the darkness. "So I won't stop doing it."

Sin moved his hand away finally and he turned his head slightly so that he could look at Boyd. His hair was splayed across his forehead and the pillow, jaw clenched and eyes raw with some strange, wild emotion. He looked angry, unhappy-- everything about his expression screamed misery although it wasn't exactly apparent why.

He looked away from Boyd suddenly and pressed his hand to his face again. "I'm so weak," he said from between grit teeth.

"You aren't," Boyd said firmly. He watched closely and hesitated just a moment before asking softly what he wanted to know. "What did you dream about? Do... you want to talk about it?"

There was a stretch of silence before Sin exhaled slowly. "I dreamed about how weak and pathetic I am." He moved his hand away so he could turn to look at Boyd.

Boyd waited a moment and wondered if it was okay that he was asking these questions; Sin did not seem angered by it so he took that as a sign that he could continue. He didn't know any other way to help Sin in these cases unless he had more information, knew more of what was going on. And sometimes, people just needed to talk about it. "How so? What was happening?"

Sin dropped his gaze to the sheet, eyes shadowed by his hair.

"My father... was there. My father-- my parents--" He paused, seeming unsure of himself. "That night, when I hurt you, my dream was about them. And now-- my father was angry about my weakness, my training-- I was ruining everything so he was retraining me."

Sin had never really talked about his family before, other than an aside here or there. Although Boyd read the information Ryan provided him, there was still a lot he didn't know. He wasn't sure what would be good or bad to talk about, but he decided to just do his best and keep his voice gentle. "Why did he think you were ruining everything?"

"Because I'm a failure. I'm not turning out the way I was supposed to be." It was all said in the same hollow voice and Sin did not look up again.

"What were you supposed to be?" Boyd asked carefully. "What did he train you for?"

A humorless smile flitted across Sin's mouth. "To be him-- to be the better model of him. To be all of his strengths and none of his weaknesses but he said-- he--" Sin frowned, confused. "I mean, in the dream, I was weaker than he ever was. He knows-- knew, where I am weak and he will exploit it, just like he did during my training."

Boyd narrowed his eyes slightly. Despite the good memories Carhart may have of Emilio, Boyd didn't think he liked the man. Someone who trained his son to be a perfect model of himself without even allowing for the same weaknesses? He smoothed his expression almost immediately though, not giving away his annoyance. "What did he say?" he asked Sin calmly.

Sin looked up at Boyd finally, face blank and eyes unreadable once again; it was an expression that had been absent from his face for a long time. "I'm not supposed to make myself vulnerable to others-- to care for others. Eventually my weakness will be used against me and I will regret ever trying to be like other people."

Boyd stared at Sin for a moment and once again tried not to let his displeasure show. Seeing that expression resurrected made Boyd unconsciously want to anchor Sin in the present, in a time that didn't turn him inaccessible and unreadable. He reached out without really thinking and laid his hand firmly but gently on Sin's bare shoulder, where he let his thumb slide comfortingly along his skin.

"Was your father always like that?" he asked quietly.

Sin closed his eyes briefly when Boyd touched him and when he opened them again he seemed less blank, less empty although the remoteness was still there.

"Yes. When we first met, he didn't know what to do with me but once he found a purpose for me, that's how things were."

"When you first met?" Boyd blinked and shifted up on his elbow just a little to get a better view of Sin's expression. "What do you mean?"

Sin traced his finger against the sheet, studying it intently. For a moment it seemed like he wouldn't respond, that he didn't want to talk about it, that he'd shut down with Boyd just like he did with Carhart, but he didn't.

"My dad took me when I was eight," he said slowly. "I'd never met him before then-- he wasn't accustomed to being with children so he didn't have use for me and didn't know what to do with me."

Sin's mouth lifted into another strange smile. "The first time he spoke to me he asked if I wanted a cigarette."

"Where were you before that?"

All of the muscles in Sin's body seemed to tense up and his eyes flicked to Boyd briefly. The moment stretched but then Sin looked away and it ended.

"With my mother." There was another silence and he raised his hand slowly, letting it rest on top of one of Boyd's. "He took me from... there."

It was surprising and a little alarming that even though his father apparently trained him ruthlessly since he was a child, Sin was actually reacting more to the idea of his mother. Boyd almost stopped himself but... if he didn't ask now, he may never know and for some reason, he really wanted to know. He wanted to know about Sin's past, about his life, he wanted to understand all of the things that had turned Hsin into Sin.

"Where was she? You sound... as if that was a bad place to be."

The answers came slowly and it was obvious that this was uncharted territory, something that hadn't been touched on in awhile. "In Hong Kong."

Sin paused, eyes focused on the sheet, his hands flexing. "When I was a foolish, misled child, I used to wonder what my father would be like. I never thought I would meet him, I wanted him to take me... away. To protect me and save me. And when she died, I thought that he had finally done that."

Boyd shook his head and tightened his hold on Sin's shoulder, feeling a mixture of emotions were difficult to distinguish between. "You weren't foolish or misled. That's the way it should have been. You can't help that your father was so... different." He ran his thumb along Sin's skin again, hoping he was saying the right thing. He wasn't very good at comforting people; he was far better at ignoring or being cold to them. "Your father... Where did he take you? When did he start training you?"

Sin shifted so that he was on his side facing Boyd although he kept his eyes downcast. "I'm not positive but I suspect he brought me here. That's why Carhart was asking me questions about it, although we never stayed in one place for too long. Often we were in Europe for one reason or another. At first he just ignored me, he stared at me and seemed at a loss. I think he regretted taking me away; maybe he thought it would be an adventure and then realized I was useless to him. After a few months he decided that-- he thought that I had potential. He told me that he would train me so that it would not be wasted-- that I would become like him."

Sin was quiet again and looked up at Boyd again. "It made sense to me. I knew even from that age that I wasn't really normal. I'd already been... violent. The people me and my mother had lived with were always disturbed by me." He paused for a moment, seeming to be trying to work it out for himself, struggling with his own memories. "Anyway, I was misguided, I thought my father would be my ally but he taught me to trust no one, not even him. If I confided in him, he just used my weaknesses against me."

"I'm sorry," Boyd began carefully. "But he shouldn't have done that… He can't expect you to be perfect if he was not himself. I'm not saying that humanity is perfect, but not everyone will automatically hurt you." He shifted and reached out to slowly push Sin's hair from his eyes.

"But it's true. I was always weak-- as he trained me, he constantly saw my weakness and he tried to rid me of it. He taught me so much, taught me how to be strong. He taught me how to survive, how to fight, how to protect myself. Even when he realized--" Sin broke off suddenly and looked somewhat surprised by what he'd almost said.

"Even when he saw the severity of my weakness," he amended. "He continued to try to improve me, to show me how to handle it, but I always disappointed him, even when my weaknesses became my strength. But he didn't like that either and so--" He stopped again, eyebrows drawing together, confused by his own rambling.

Boyd paused then hesitantly ran his fingers through Sin's hair, a comforting gesture. "You were eight, Hsin," he said quietly, his gaze caught between searching Sin's face and becoming entranced by the dark, smooth hair falling between his fingers. He didn't really know why he called Sin by his real name, but it somehow seemed appropriate and he liked the way it felt on his tongue.

Sin seemed to lean into his touch, seemed to crave the gentleness of it with an almost sad desperation.

"No," he said again. "I wasn't. I was... unstable and as I got older, it's just gotten worse. He realized it and tried to counteract it by intensifying my training, by making me stronger, by teaching me control. I tried to maintain it, to control myself in that state-- but I was never able to make it go away."

He didn't say specifically what weakness he was referring to, but it seemed that he was speaking of his mental instability, the way he could snap and lose control.

Boyd frowned just slightly but the expression was gone quickly. He was not particularly happy about what he was hearing, but he didn't dare let his voice or expression show anything but calm reception in case Sin misinterpreted it and stopped talking. He continued to play with Sin's hair, dropping his hand down to his temples and forehead occasionally to caress his skin absently.

"What exactly was this training?"

Sin's eyes looked distant as he remembered things from long ago.

"Just... training. To teach me how to be a capable fighter, assassin-- to teach me how to enhance my strength, my endurance. We would spar-- at one of his houses, he would spar with me outside in the cold to show me what I would possibly endure on an assignment where warmth was not an option. When I was older, eleven, when I showed that I was capable of using my body as a weapon, he began to show me the proper usage of weapons."