Chapter 50

Guys I am about to complete this story, Make sure you have liked each and every chapter, if not go back and press the star button in each chapter…

A long chapter ahead 🩷3500 words .

“read “the Long road back” it’s also my brotherhood book .

Thank you guys for reading and liking 🫶 ❤️

A special thanks to @AnshumaliMohanty who never forget to like any part of The wrath bearer and comments too ✨

The hospital was only a few miles away, but it felt like a lifetime.

Abhimanyu’s heart was a tight knot of panic and determination as he held Ashvik in his arms, the younger boy’s blood staining his clothes. Sebastian was beside him, his expression grim, but his steps quick and purposeful as they made their way through the winding corridors of the makeshift escape route.

Ansh, still shaking from the ordeal, was just behind them, his hands covered in his brother’s blood as he desperately tried to slow the bleeding, pressing cloth against the gaping wound on Ashvik’s side. Each bump, each jolt seemed to make Ashvik’s condition worse. His breathing was shallow, a wet, rasping sound in his chest. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and his body seemed to be slipping further away with every passing second.

“Stay with me, little brother,” Abhimanyu muttered under his breath, his voice thick with an emotion he didn’t know how to contain. He tightened his grip on Ashvik, willing his brother’s heart to keep beating, even though his own was threatening to break into a million pieces.

Sebastian glanced at the street ahead, spotting their destination through the haze of streetlights. “We’re almost there,” he said, his voice low, though his nerves were fraying with every minute they spent on the road. “Just a little longer.”

Ansh’s voice trembled as he turned to look at Abhimanyu. “Do you think… will he be okay?” he asked, barely able to keep it together. “He’s… he’s slipping, Bhai.”

Abhimanyu’s jaw tightened, but he refused to show weakness. Not now. “We will make it. We have to.” His words felt empty, even to him, as they echoed through the silence of the night. “He’s a Goenka. And Goenkas don’t die easy.”

Sebastian accelerated, pushing the car faster despite the tight spaces and crowded streets. As they neared the hospital, Abhimanyu could see the sterile, bright lights cutting through the dark, a symbol of hope and despair all at once.

The car screeched to a halt outside the emergency entrance. Without a word, Sebastian was already out of the car, rushing around to open the door.

Abhimanyu carefully lifted Ashvik from the back seat, his brother’s weight a dead weight against him, and his breath hitched in his chest as he realized just how frail and lifeless Ashvik felt in his arms.

“Get a doctor, now!” Abhimanyu shouted at the nurse at the door, his voice raw with urgency. “He’s bleeding out!”

The nurse barely hesitated, turning and yelling for help. Within moments, a team of doctors and medical staff swarmed around them, taking Ashvik from Abhimanyu’s arms with efficiency and urgency.

“Stay with him, please,” Abhimanyu begged, gripping the edge of the stretcher. His knuckles were white from the pressure, his mind barely able to focus as the medical team rushed Ashvik inside.

Ansh stood frozen for a moment, the reality of it all crashing into him. Then, without a word, he followed, his eyes filled with unspeakable fear.

Sebastian placed a hand on his shoulder. “He’s still here, Ansh. He’s still with us.”

The words didn’t help, but Ansh nodded anyway, swallowing his fear and stepping into the sterile white hallway.

Few minutes later Dante and Xander came Running inside , soaked in blood,not theirs but the enemies, they sat with all of them Waiting.praying ..

They waited.

The seconds felt like hours.

Abhimanyu’s heart was a drumbeat in his ears as he paced in the sterile waiting room, each footfall a reminder of how close they had come to losing his brother. He couldn’t let go of the fear that lingered, threatening to take hold. If Ashvik didn’t make it… he couldn’t imagine life without him. Not after everything they had fought for.

Eventually, the door opened. A young doctor stepped in, his face tight, but not as grim as Abhimanyu feared.

“We’ve stabilized him for now,” the doctor said, glancing at the group of brothers. “He’s still critical, but we’ve managed to stop the internal bleeding. He’s unconscious, but he’s holding on.”

Abhimanyu breathed out a shaky breath, his knees nearly giving way beneath him. He hadn’t realized how much he had been holding his breath until now.

“Will he make it?” Ansh’s voice cracked, filled with a desperate hope that could barely keep the tears at bay.

The doctor hesitated, looking at Ashvik’s chart. “It’s too early to say. His injuries were severe. But we’ve done what we can for now. He’s alive, and we’ll monitor him closely. There’s still a long way to go.”

Abhimanyu nodded, taking the news in a daze. “We’ll stay with him,” he said softly. “We’re not going anywhere.”

The doctor gave them a brief nod before leaving them alone with their thoughts.

Ansh collapsed into a chair, his body sagging with exhaustion, but still unable to let go of his brother’s blood-stained memory. “I… I don’t know what I would’ve done if we lost him,” he whispered, his voice strained with emotion.

Sebastian stood by the window, arms crossed, his face unreadable. His eyes were distant, lost somewhere in the night. “We still have work to do. Petrov is dead. But there’s more to this. We can’t rest until this entire thing is over.”

Abhimanyu nodded, his voice barely a whisper. “We’ll end it. For Ashvik. For everything.”

The brothers sat in silence, the weight of what they had just been through settling on them like an anchor, heavy and relentless. The road ahead was far from certain, but for now, they would focus on the only thing that mattered: getting Ashvik through this.

For him. For family.

And then, they would end it all. No more blood, no more suffering.

The nightmare would be over.

But not yet. Not yet.

After Few minutes Dante came and Asked to talk to Abhimanyu, he told him how Avery was there and how she had watched Ashvik getting hurt and now she is missing,

Abhimanyu’s jaw clenched he looked murderous at the moment, but he didn’t said anything just went and sat beside Ashvik’s bed , Ansh was also hospitalized beside Ashvik for further treatment, they have obtained the Antidote and now he was getting stabilised , they realised that the plan was never to kill Ansh just make him a bait to attract Ashvik and it worked just fine..

Two days later ❤️‍🩹

The faint beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound in the sterile room as Ashvik slowly regained consciousness once more.

His mind was foggy, a haze that clung to his thoughts, making everything feel distant, ungraspable. His body felt heavy, as if it didn’t belong to him. The pain was there-dull, persistent-but not as overwhelming as it had been before. His chest ached, and his side burned where something had been stitched together. His head… his head felt like it was being held underwater, but everything else was a dull, empty blur.

As his eyelids fluttered open, the first thing he noticed was the white sterile ceiling above him, the harsh fluorescent lights buzzing faintly. The room felt cold, too cold, and yet, there was an odd sense of warmth from the body next to him.

He shifted slightly, but the pain in his side stopped him. He gasped, feeling something cling to his arm, a hand, warm and familiar but strange at the same time. He turned his head slowly, the movement disorienting, to find a figure seated beside him. The person was staring at him with a deep intensity, eyes filled with… something. Ashvik couldn’t place it.

“Ashvik?” the person whispered softly, their voice thick with emotion.

Ashvik blinked, trying to focus, but there was something wrong. He didn’t know who this person was. Their face seemed familiar, but it was like trying to reach for a memory that was locked away, just out of reach.

The person’s lips trembled as they repeated, “Ashvik, can you hear me?”

He nodded slowly, his mind still too fogged to make sense of things. His gaze flickered over the figure beside him. Tall, dark hair, eyes that looked… like they knew him, like they had once been something important. But all he felt was a dull emptiness inside. A blank page.

“Who are you?” Ashvik asked quietly, his voice hoarse, as if he hadn’t spoken in years.

The figure’s face froze, a slight flinch, before they managed to control it. The sadness in their eyes deepened, like something painful had just been carved into their soul.

“I’m… I’m Dante,” the figure whispered, almost too quietly. “Your boyfriend.”

The word boyfriend hung in the air like a foreign language, its meaning foreign to Ashvik’s ears. Boyfriend? No. That couldn’t be right. Ashvik tried to recall any sensation that would tie him to this person-any shared laughter, any whispered words, anything-but there was nothing.

Dante’s hand tightened around his, his thumb brushing the back of Ashvik’s hand in a desperate, unconscious gesture of affection. “Ashvik, you’ve been through hell. But I’m here, okay? You’re safe now. I’m here. I won’t leave you.”

Ashvik’s heart squeezed, an ache that had nothing to do with his physical wounds. A familiar ache, yes-but not one tied to Dante, or any other person. It was a loneliness that gnawed at him, a loneliness that had settled deep in his bones, hollowing him out. He could feel it-the emptiness.

“I… I don’t remember you,” Ashvik said, his voice low, confused. His mind reached again, straining to fill in the gaps, but there was nothing. Nothing solid. Nothing to hold onto.

Dante’s eyes watered, but he didn’t let go of Ashvik’s hand. “You don’t remember me?” he repeated, his voice cracking. “You don’t remember… us?”

Ashvik looked down at their intertwined hands, trying to make sense of the feelings stirring inside of him. The touch should’ve meant something, but it didn’t. It felt as foreign as the name “Dante.”

His mind continued to race through a fog of questions that seemed to swallow each one before he could answer them.

“Are we-were we in love?” Ashvik asked cautiously, testing the word, as if it might snap into place if he said it right.

Dante’s lips pressed together in a painful line. He looked at Ashvik like he’d been struck, like the very idea of Ashvik not remembering him was too much to bear. But he kept his composure, holding Ashvik’s gaze. “Yes. Yes, Ashvik. We were in love.”

Ashvik swallowed, feeling an odd knot in his throat. He didn’t feel it. There was no recognition, no warmth. There was just… a stranger sitting at his side. Someone who seemed to care deeply for him, but who was, to Ashvik, a shadow of someone he should’ve known.

“What happened to me?” Ashvik asked, his voice cracking with the weight of the question.

Dante hesitated, his face a mask of sorrow. “You were tortured. Hurt. I-” Dante’s voice broke, and he lowered his eyes, as if the truth of it was too much to speak aloud. “You were taken from us. By someone who wanted to use you, hurt you, break you.”

Ashvik felt an uneasy shiver crawl down his spine. “Why?”

Dante’s hand tightened again. “Because of your brothers Because of what you mean to all of them. We were… they thought you’d be the easiest way to control them . They thought if they broke you, they could break them”

Ashvik tried to process the words, but they only muddied the waters further. His mind swirled in confusion, grasping at things that slipped away before he could hold onto them.

Just then, another voice cut through the haze. A voice that felt like it should matter, but Ashvik couldn’t place it.

“Ashvik…” The voice was warm, but it held an edge of coldness. He turned slowly, the voice familiar but… wrong.

There, standing in the doorway, was another man. His hair was messy, his expression sharp, but his eyes were filled with something Ashvik couldn’t read. Something that burned, a quiet anger that felt far too close to home.

“You don’t remember me either, do you?”

The man stepped closer, his eyes dark with unspoken emotion.

Ashvik stared at him, the name forming on the tip of his tongue but disappearing before he could say it. His heart skipped a beat, his pulse quickening, but the connection didn’t click.

“No,” Ashvik said quietly, shaking his head. “I don’t remember you.”

The man’s jaw tightened as he clenched his fists at his sides. “I’m Sebastian,” he said, voice tight with restrained rage. “Your brother.”

Ashvik blinked. Brother?

He felt no connection, no familial bond, no love or hate. Just cold indifference. No memories of shared moments, no fights, no laughter, no nothing. Just a name. Just a shadow of something that should’ve been.

“You’re… you’re my brother?” Ashvik repeated, the words tasting foreign in his mouth.

Sebastian didn’t speak, but the storm in his eyes said enough. A moment passed. His expression was unreadable, hard, but there was something else-a flicker of sadness, maybe. But only for a second.

“I… I don’t remember you,” Ashvik said again, his voice hollow.

The silence between them felt like a chasm.

“I’ll get the others,” Sebastian muttered, his words clipped, as he turned and walked away without another glance.

To tell Abhimanyu and Ansh about Ashvik as Abhimanyu was getting Ansh Discharged as he is Fine right now.

Ashvik looked back at Dante, his mind still in a fog, still trying to grasp at something, anything. But all he could feel was confusion, a sense of disorientation that twisted his insides.

“Do you still love me, Ashvik?” Dante asked, his voice barely audible.

Ashvik closed his eyes, feeling a strange weight in his chest. “I don’t know.”

The answer felt wrong, but it was all he could give.

For now, everything-everyone-felt like a distant memory, a story that didn’t belong to him.

The boy he had been, the one who had known love, family, and connection, was slipping away. And in his place, there was only emptiness, fear, and a terror of facing the truth.

Who was he now?

And more importantly-who was he going to become?

The sterile hospital room, which had once seemed like a place of healing, now felt like a prison to Ashvik.

Dante had stepped out for a moment to get something, and for the first time since waking up, Ashvik was left alone with his thoughts. He tried to sit up but winced as pain shot through his side, reminding him of how broken he was-how much of a stranger his own body had become.

As he lay back, staring up at the ceiling, his mind drifted-his thoughts, a chaotic storm.

Who am I?
Who were they?

The names came first. Abhimanyu. Ansh.

He didn’t understand why they felt familiar-why his chest tightened when he heard their names. But it wasn’t the comforting feeling he’d expected. Instead, there was something darker-something more unsettling.

Abhimanyu.

The name echoed in his mind, followed by flashes-blurred faces, raised voices, the feeling of being invisible, of being unseen. His younger self, walking through school halls, his older brother walking ahead, never once glancing back, never once stopping to acknowledge his existence.

The ache of those memories was sharp and bitter. He remembered Abhimanyu like a distant shadow-a presence that never seemed to care. The older brother who had never offered him comfort, never showed love, or even the simplest form of protection.

It wasn’t that Abhimanyu had been cruel, but rather indifferent. Indifference was worse than cruelty, wasn’t it? To be ignored, to be invisible, to feel like you didn’t matter at all.

And then there was Ansh.

Ansh’s name lingered in his mind, but instead of warmth, it brought something colder. He remembered the way Ansh had looked at him-always with a sneer, always with that mocking, superior expression. Ashvik was the kid who couldn’t get things right, the kid who was never good enough. He remembered how Ansh had made him feel small, insignificant.

The times when his older brother had bullied him in school, laughing as Ashvik struggled to fit in, to find his place.

Was that what family was? Ashvik wondered. Was that love?

A door opened. Ashvik didn’t turn to look. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to face them-not like this. Not in the state he was in. Not when his mind was a warzone, and his body was barely holding on.

The shadow in the doorway shifted, and the air in the room seemed to grow heavier, thicker.

“Ashvik.”

The voice-Abhimanyu’s voice-sounded soft, but to Ashvik, it felt like an explosion.

He flinched, the panic rising in his chest like a tidal wave, flooding every inch of him. His heart pounded in his ears. His breathing hitched.

His eyes widened, his body tensing.

Abhimanyu.

The memories flooded in all at once-the indifference, the isolation. The feeling of never being enough. The hurt that lingered, that gnawed at him.

His pulse quickened. Sweat formed on his brow. His legs jerked involuntarily as if his body wanted to get away from the source of his fear-away from the name, the memories.

He tried to scramble back, his hands pressing against the edge of the bed, trying to push himself away from the figure in the doorway, but his body didn’t listen. His side burned, his injured leg felt like it might buckle under him, and his panic only escalated.

“Ashvik!” Abhimanyu’s voice cracked with urgency, as if he wanted to reach him, to calm him. But it wasn’t enough. Not now.

Ashvik’s breathing came faster, more erratic, his vision beginning to blur at the edges as he tried to push himself farther into the bed, farther into the corner. The panic took over. It squeezed his chest, choked his air, twisted his insides.

“Don’t come near me!” he gasped, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he even realized it.

It was too much. Too fast. Too many memories crashing over him in a wave of confusion. The indifference. The rejection. The cruelty. The times he had begged for attention, for care, only to be ignored.

He felt trapped. He felt small. Weak.

Abhimanyu moved closer, but Ashvik’s instincts took over. His body, panicked and terrified, reacted before his mind could even process it. His hands-shaking, trembling-shot out in a wild, frantic motion. His palm slammed into the metal bed rail, and in his panic, his wrist twisted awkwardly.

The sharp, searing pain shot through him like lightning, and he cried out, his body jerking in response, pushing himself back even further, desperately trying to escape the feeling of suffocation.

His wrist-his injured wrist-throbbed violently as he cradled it, the pain doubling as the panic escalated.

“Ashvik, please, you’re hurt! Stop-” Abhimanyu’s voice was frantic, but Ashvik could hardly hear him. His vision swirled as his body fought against him.

“Don’t… don’t touch me!” Ashvik screamed, his voice raw, the words coming out jagged, breaking, each syllable laced with terror.

Ansh stepped into the room, his eyes wide with disbelief, his face full of concern, but Ashvik couldn’t see that. All he saw was them. All he felt was the crushing weight of their indifference-their absence, the way they had ignored him. He couldn’t remember the love he was supposed to feel for them. All he could remember was the pain, the humiliation, the emptiness they had left him with.

“No! No! Go away!” Ashvik sobbed, his voice cracking as the words came out in desperate pleas. His hands clutched his head, the panic clawing at him, pulling him under.

Both Abhimanyu and Ansh froze in the doorway. Neither moved closer, not yet. Abhimanyu’s eyes were wide with shock and grief, his body tensed but unsure how to proceed. Ansh’s jaw clenched, his fists at his sides, as he looked at his younger brother with both hurt and confusion.

“Ashvik, it’s okay. We’re not going anywhere,” Abhimanyu said gently, his voice thick with emotion.

But the words felt hollow. To Ashvik, they felt like a lie.

His gaze locked onto them with terror in his eyes, and it wasn’t just fear anymore-it was something deeper. It was the realization that they didn’t see him. They never saw him. They never cared enough to look at him.

He was just an invisible shadow in their world.

“I-I don’t remember you,” Ashvik whimpered, his voice barely audible. The words came out ragged, broken, as if the very act of speaking them had torn a piece of him away. “I don’t remember you!”

The room seemed to close in around him. His chest constricted, his heart racing in his ears. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t escape the terror, the realization that the people who should have loved him had been nothing more than ghosts in his life.

“I’m… I’m sorry…” he whispered through the tears, his voice barely a breath.

And as his body trembled, curled into itself, he felt more alone than ever.

Because in his mind, they were still the brothers who had never cared. And all Ashvik could do was wish they would disappear.

The silence in the room stretched on, thick and suffocating.

To be continued 🔚