“It happens sometimes. No more than once a day… usually.” Which is a lie. His dreams are vivid nightmares of past treatments. And those memories are close, always creeping in at the edges of his vision, wanting to overwhelm him and drag him down. It’s so hard to pay attention to the world around him. A moment’s inattention and he’s lost in his own memories of pain. The wrong sound and he thinks it’s a metal instrument being set down on a tray; someone walking too loudly and he’s sure it’s a doctor coming in to torture him. It usually is.

Was.

“And you freeze why?”

The question confuses Daniel. “What do you mean?”

“Is it instinct or intentional? Are you escaping into your mind, or do you not have the choice?”

“I don’t have a choice.” He’d have thought that was obvious. Are there people who choose to live in their nightmares? “Do you want me to promise not to do it again?” Daniel asks, eyes filling with tears because it’s impossible. How can he stop it? But the doctors like it when he tries. So he should offer it to this man even if he can’t keep his promise.

Liam growls low in his throat. He leans close, rubs his face against Daniel’s, and squeezes the back of Daniel’s neck with a strong hand. “Don’t you make me any promises you can’t keep. That’s just about the same as a lie. I don’t have expectations of you. It’s hard, I know you’ve been taught differently. But what I want from you is your natural response. Not what you think I want. Not responses based in fear and self-protection. You just let yourself be and I’ll be happy with you.”

Oh. That’s not something Daniel has ever done. “They punish me for behaving like a submissive. Wanting to be one. Doing things they do.”

“You are a submissive,” he says firmly.

“Am I?” Daniel asks, because he isn’t sure of the answer. He’s been living a lie for so long he has no idea what he really is.

“Do you want me to prove it to you?”

“Yes,” he responds before he can think about it too much.

Liam’s brow rises. Maybe the question was rhetorical.

“Alright, I’ll prove it to you.” Liam takes off his t-shirt, baring his chest, and hands it to Daniel. Daniel takes the shirt and raises it to his face, inhaling his scent, the Dominant’s warmth still in the fabric.

“I feel dizzy,” he confesses.

“Good.”

His Dominant is perfect.

“Get your face in my shirt and breathe in my scent so you don’t forget who you’re pleasing.”

“Yes, Sir,” he says gratefully. His face is hot. Liam’s shirt smells like him—so safe and masculine that Daniel moans as he buries his face in it.