Niegel clenched his jaw, trying to tune out the screams of agony Chrys was belting. His vision swam, making his work messy, but he'd worked under worse conditions. Autopilot took over and he tried to remember where exactly he was and that all of this was by his choice. He'd taken Chrys; had wanted to cause him pain. It was different thinking about it and hearing it first hand. The smell and the incessant screaming made him want to vomit. Niegel became sticky with sweat, nausea rising to the back of his throat.<br/><br/>'<i>Just finish</i>,' his mind screamed.<br/><br/>Chrys' energy wasn't infinite, even when the sudden spike of adrenaline brought on by pain. His work did get easier and with it sealed he cleaned it one more time and pulled the young man over his legs, into an embrace as he petted him with a shaking hand. Like it had been before, it was to calm his own nerves, not to sooth Chrys. He left him in his lap as he stitched his own hand. It was easier than it had been to seal his own flesh, mostly because he did so in silence. After, he just sat there, his face in the palm of his good hand with the other wrapped around Chrys.<br/><br/><i>What was he doing? </i><br/><br/>Niegel's rage came and went and he'd hoped the suffering of another would appease him in some way. Sometimes it worked, like when he'd chased Chrys down and removed his mode of defense. It had been exciting but then now, this wasn't. He was trying to understand the differences.<br/><br/>Madness. He was descending into madness and trying to expedite his trip. His humanity, what remained of it, was trying to derail him. Too deep to be swayed or to change his plans. He had the stomach for this. He just needed to find it.<br/><br/>Niegel removed the rest of Chrys' clothing and wiped him down with a rag and hot water. He was slow and thorough, really looking at the young man and seeing the differences between him and his father. He moved Chrys to the bed and covered him up. Even if he didn't want to, his body was going to force him to rest. Niegel took another shower himself, covered in sweat, blood and grime, before going over the mess in the RV. The tile was easy to clean up. There was a reason he hadn't want carpet. Once everything was put back in order he joined Chrys in the bed to rest for a few hours. They day had been long and strenuous, but even with the exhaustion and blood loss he woke before the sun. He felt like shit and knew Chrys felt worse. There were eggs in the fridge. He cracked a few into the pan for breakfast. He ate a good portion with a spoon straight from the pan still hot. They were bland and tasteless, maybe a little overdone, but for Niegel that was nothing new. He didn't care. It was the nourishment his body needed and nothing fancy.<br/><br/>“Wake up,” he told Chrys softly, touching his hip beneath the blanket. He had the scrambled eggs set on a paper plate and brought them over. Hopefully, this would go better than the day before and Chrys would be hungry enough to eat. With all the activity yesterday he knew the kid was running on empty.<br/><br/>Niegel was calm again, a deep frown etched in to his face.<br/><br/>“I need to take a look and clean your stitches again,” he said, “after you eat. If you're going to get crafty and try to bolt again, you'll need the energy.”