Disclaimer: I don't own The Bill or any of it's characters... sadly. If I did own The Bill, Stevie and Mickey would have been together by now. And Smithy would have superpowers.
A/U: I loooooooves the angst ;) Hey everyone! :) Firstly, this is going to be a Stevie/Mickey fic (because I love them and they're cute together... IMO anyway. Plus there's no stuff on them.) so not a Stevie/Smithy one. Secondly, there are probably mistakes somewhere in there... kind of lurking around being a nuisance... so if you see anything that's gramatically bothering you, feel free to point it out! Also, reviews are greatly appreciated as per usual, and so is constructive criticism - I'd love to know how you guys think I can improve! Finally, this will contain references to sexual abuse/abuse/rape, so if you feel uncomfortable or you really don't like that kind of thing, look away. The abuse stuff is present in this chapter... so yeah, look away now if you don't want to read it!
Also, one more thing, this chapter takes place 3 years before the present, so it's meant to take place around about November/December 07, roughly.
Updates should be quite regular, summer holidays is going to give me sometime to write. If I'm taking a while, please feel free to PM me and give me a kick up the bum! I'll stop rambling now... hope you enjoy! :)
The rain hammered down on the windows, bringing with it a wake of darkness to the sky, numerous rain clouds masking the glow of the moon. The thundering of water droplets was omnipresent to every occupant of the city – par two. One of them, a woman, could only hear the angry panting of the man above her as he pinned her down to the bed and clenched his fists around her throat, restricting her flow of air. And the man, he could only hear the woman's pathetic attempts to scream, and the rasping and gasping that came with his hands around her throat.
She kicked at him, trying to push him off her so that she'd have a chance to get away. But she knew, deep down, that stopping him at that precise moment wasn't going to stop him forever. He'd keep coming back for more and more, like he always did. The mans grip tightened, halting the woman's attempt to escape. Suddenly, he let go of her neck, and pulled away from her. She jolted up, catching her breath and biting back the tears threatening to fall down her face.
She wasn't new to this whole thing – it happened day in, day out, depending on what mood he was in. Some days he'd be nice and caring to her, he'd take her out for food and let her cuddle into his chest during the night, every bit the loving fiance. But others... he'd give her hell. She never understood why he did it, nor did she want to. When he did it, all that was running through her mind was fear and the worry of what would happen to her next. Was he going to let go? How much longer would she be able to hang on? But afterwards, after he'd hurt her and ripped her apart, he'd flash a look of apology and honest regret at what he did, promising it wouldn't happen again. And she was naïve enough to believe him, to actually think after all the times the same pattern of events repeated and repeated itself, it was all going to stop with one little sentence.
'I could never hurt you again.'
She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms, not wanting to let him show that she was crying. Maybe it was about time? Maybe it was about time for all of this to stop? She didn't know how much further he'd push her until she cracked and caved in. Maybe she could leave him and put the past behind her? Yes, that was what she was going to do. She wasn't going to fall for the puppy dog eyes again, she'd seen that trick far too many times and fallen for it hook line and sinker.
She began to sit up in the bed, her hands still pressed to her eyes, when a weight was pushed down on top of her. She struggled for a bit, but his weight overcame her strength. A pair of lips came crashing down on hers hard, and a pair of hands felt their way around her body.
'Move your hands, baby...' he whispered into her ear as he pulled away from her, hissing out the last word. When she didn't comply, his hands circled her wrists and yanked them away despite her fidgeting around. 'That's better. Now, stay still, don't do one of your squirming acts.' His tongue pushed into her mouth, sliding against her own and exploring the area. He moaned against her lips, before pulling away and reaching down for her jeans.
'Wait, what are you doing?' she asked, not daring to even look at him. When he didn't answer, she asked again, her voice louder than before. 'Tom, what are you doing to me!' He ignored her and continued to unbutton her jeans. 'I don't want this, Tom. Get off me.' He practically tore her jeans off her legs, her underwear following afterward. 'I said get off me, Tom!' Tom looked up, lust filled eyes met with fear struck ones. He removed all clothing on the lower half of his body hastily, and positioned himself above her, his hands snaking around her neck yet again.
'Don't you dare talk to me in that tone of voice! Show me some respect!' Respect. If she wasn't in such a frightening situation, she would have found that funny. To Tom, respect was doing as you were told, and letting him shag you whenever he felt like it, no ifs or buts, that was the way he worked.
'Tom, I don't want this, just leave me alone. I don't want to be with you anymore. You're a monster, Tom, and you're killing me bit by bit.' She couldn't take back what she said, neither could she take back what happened to her next. Tom was infuriated with her words, with what she thought of him. He lowed his mouth to her ear, and spat out quietly to her.
'If this was killing you, you'd already be dead.' He pulled back to see the freshly fallen tears that had escaped her eyes, the tracks staining her face. He bought his hand to her cheek hard, hearing her cry out in pain and terror.
'Tom, no! Get off me! This is wrong!' Before she knew it, the whole world stopped around her, the pounding of blood in her ears overrunning her senses.
This time, he'd gone too far. He'd pushed the boundaries and pushed her into oblivion. This time, he'd shattered her soul for good, and there seemed to be no way of piecing it back together.
