Author notes: Lauren Lewis gets the raw end of the deal A LOT, and I considered how she deals with all of it on an emotional level. That thought led to this really dark one-shot in an AU/all human setting.

Trigger warning: this is a one shot depiction of physical pain to aid in emotional release. It is somewhat graphic and the entire one shot could be a trigger. I strongly urge you to please read with caution or don't read any of it. If you have read my other fics, please note this is nothing like my typical fluffy stuff. At all. This is outside of my typical writing box.

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A.M.

A long familiar warped heartbeat thumped inside her chest. Her lungs pulled and pushed oxygen repeatedly, her shoulders drooping further with each exhale. These two physical responses were truly the only indication that she still existed in the land of the living. Her mind absent of thought and her body absent of feeling, Lauren curled her knees toward her chest and sunk further under the blankets. For a moment she wished to fall back to sleep, enjoying the comfort of unconsciousness so much more these days. At least then her body and mind gained rest and time to heal. Strange how all the sleep, or lack thereof, had done little to help that healing process. On the contrary, if anything, Lauren had slipped further away from a healthy life. She teetered on the brink of no return.

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P.M.

She didn't bother to stare at the dial pad as she had done in the past. With a decision made, Lauren unlocked her phone and pressed her favorite speed dial. Just hearing the first ring boosted her spirit. It only took one additional ring for her call to be answered.

"It's been two months, doctor."

Lauren glanced at the calendar hanging above her desk. Two months. She was right. It had been two months. The longest she had ever gone between calls was three months. Lauren swallowed and looked down, feeling a wash of guilt for giving in and not lasting longer this time. Yet hearing that voice with a mix of discipline and seduction made Lauren question why she had even waited that long.

"When can you fit me in?"

"I don't even get a hello first?"

Lauren ignored her question, solely focused on securing the earliest time slot possible.

"Please."

Her sigh carried her disappointment but the answer that followed showed the depth of her understanding.

"Come now. I'll clear my schedule."

Lauren heard the click as the line disconnected. She placed her phone on the desk. Her spine tingled as her nerves jumped and fluttered with each passing second. It provided a hint of a reminder about what she felt years ago, when life was simple and happy. When her heart remained open to love and affection. When she actually had good feelings and emotions didn't make her consider death as a better option. When she could actually feel something, anything.

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Late P.M.

Standing outside the thick steel door, the flood light shining down upon her provided enough illumination for Lauren to press the buzzer and punch in the code she had committed to memory all those years ago. It was her own private code that no one else knew, and it would always allow the owner of this establishment to know Lauren had arrived. A green light on the digital box appeared and the door unlocked, giving way as Lauren turned the handle and stepped inside. Releasing her grip on the handle, the door slowly closed behind her and provided an audible click when the lock mechanism engaged. The hollow hallway echoed each of Lauren's steps. She wore flip flops today, highly unusual but the warm summer air had been highly oppressive for weeks now and socks would only make it worse. The wall mounted lights lining the hallway appeared dimmer than usual, but otherwise nothing had changed in appearance. The dark-colored paint, the shiny steel floor and the heavy oak door staring at her from the opposite end of the hall appeared just as they had during her previous countless visits.

Now standing still outside the wooden door, the tiny camera mounted above caught her image and not a moment later did the door open. The blood inside her veins flowed a little faster now, a mix of shame and excitement stirring that rotting organ protected behind her rib cage. Two steps inside that door and Lauren could feel her presence. She couldn't look up though, instead staring at the floor as the woman she came to visit closed the door and stepped behind her. Lauren's spine tingled again, whether from memory or anticipation it was hard to tell. A sudden jolt of forgotten feeling surged through her when two hands were placed on her shoulders. It made Lauren gasp before exhaling through the outburst.

"Lauren…"

With eyes still fixed on the floor before her, the doctor shook her head side to side as a swell of sadness grew from the pit of her soul and begged for release. The beginning was always the hardest part, as her emotions surfaced in the only way they knew how. It reminded her of why she wished to cease living on so many occasions, the utter internal torment so devastating that nothing ever made her feel better. Except this. Except her.

"Thank you for not making me wait."

Those strong hands tightened the grip on her shoulders before releasing the hold and sliding down gently over her arms. The touch ignited her physically, giving her a different kind of flutter that shut out the emotional one for a moment, but only for a moment. As in every other instance, the emotional jump reappeared quickly and maintained its presence jointly with the physical from that point on.

"I will never make you wait. I thought I made that clear."

True to that very statement, those strong hands shifted from arms to waist and slid under Lauren's shirt. Instinctively Lauren raised her arms high above her head, allowing her shirt to be pulled up and over her head quickly. The air temperature was perfect for her exposed skin, and it was only the arousal of that touch which caused the goose bumps to appear down her arms. She heard her shirt land softly on the floor as Lauren returned her arms to her sides and those hands returned to her skin. Those hands that provided such a gentle caress but yielded the power to make her very physical form bleed at her request: the request she needed to speak only once each and every visit to initiate her darkest desires.

With one hand, Lauren reached around her back and unsnapped her bra before sliding the straps over her arms and tossing it aside. She finally looked up from the floor and gazed across the small room to the multitude of options presented for her choosing. Her decision to sit, or stand, or even lie down were all trumped by her repentant guilt and so without any further thought she stepped away from those hands and moved to a large pillar in the room. Slowly she dropped to her knees and rested her forehead against the steel beam. The metal was cooler than the air but it help temper the heat radiating from her skin. She closed her eyes as her arms dangled to the floor below, and patiently she waited for the only thing that would let her feel again.

Lauren counted the seven clicks of her heels crossing the room as she approached. It was followed by her right arm and then her left arm tugged and secured around the pillar. The cuffs around her wrists were lined with a soft material but the tightening strained her shoulders and forearms.

"Tighter."

A hesitated moment later, Lauren felt her request granted and the tightening of those straps pulled Lauren's body further against the steel beam. With her face turned aside, her body was pressed solid against the metal, the coolness hardening her nipples on contact. That extra tug provided a bit of pain that took the edge off the emotions fighting to come forth, but that slight bit of strain paled in comparison to the physical agony she downright craved.

The heels clicked another seven paces toward the far wall that housed many tools of the trade. She paused only momentarily to make her selection before retracing her steps back to Lauren. The next several moments felt eternal. Lauren's emotions had ruptured inside, her heart bleeding the blackness again and allowing it to seep in to her mind and infest the darkest parts of her spirit. Inside she begged and screamed for an immediacy to end this pain and suffering but silently she waited, as patiently as possible while the woman who provided her only source of comfort prepared for their session.

A gentle hand ran over her back once more. Fingers traced her scars like a baptism to end her torment. A tear dripped down her face while she stared to the side wall. Her facial expression void of emotion, Lauren swallowed those gentle touches like an overdose. She couldn't get enough of them and yet, each lingering fingertip poisoned her heart further. No one made her feel anything. No one made her love or hurt anymore. No one gave her hope or disappointment as she had become nothing, nothing but a shell of a soul; empty and uncertain whether to fill in the hole or dissolve until there was not even a shell remaining. And yet, even as she told herself on countless days and nights for the past two months that no one could change her, here Lauren knelt in front of the very woman who could create and destroy her all at once.

The first strike across her flesh came quickly, the cracking sound soothing her ears as the pain seared her skin. Her first exhale invigorated her lungs and Lauren even sighed audibly from the relief. The second strike hit slightly lower, the tingle returning to her spine and traveling all the way to her toes. She didn't flinch anymore from the connection that leather had against her back. If anything, the anticipation of each and every slash against her physical form incited her typical emotional absence to feel again. It went beyond waves or floods of emotion. She considered it a transcendence to another place, one that exceeded explanation or understanding. Each and every subsequent gash allowed Lauren the escape she would live or die for. The warm trickle of blood that trailed over her back created a cooling effect as the air mixed with the moisture coating her skin. And for the first time in two months, her breaths escaped at a normal pace, her mind thought nothing but pleasurable thoughts and her heart's emotions sang her a tune that would serve as her anthem of acceptance that this was the life she was meant to live. It was the only way she knew how to live.

An absence of strikes came quickly, only inciting Lauren to further her request.

"Again."

"Lauren…"

"I said again."

"Lauren…"

It was the first command never obeyed. She heard it in the tone of that simple spoken word, and it created a fear inside her that she had not expected. By now her arm muscles had relaxed and the strain on her wrists had dissipated. She pulled against the restraints, desperate for any physical pain that would let her feel something, anything again.

"I said again!"

She yelled it this time, her voice cracking against hope that her command would be honored. And when it was not, the poison inside her chest returned so quickly that she crumpled against that steel beam as the toxins escaped down her cheeks.

"Please…."

Through sobs and gasped breaths, Lauren begged, repeatedly, for anything to stop this venom. She wished for the only cure she knew of: the repeated strikes that would mark her soul and allow the physical pain to trump the emotional despair she had fallen in to so long ago and had never escaped. She used to black out from the searing cuts that crossed her back but her tolerance and her need had increased greatly as did her addiction. Lauren's cries morphed to uncontrollable hyperventilating that threatening to rob her of consciousness. She actually welcomed it as passing out would help her forget, for at least awhile anyway.

"Please….please…"

The next strike hit low and off to her side. Like the simple flick of a switch, her breaths changed again and returned to an even pace as the pain seeped out of her side and relieved a hint of pressure from within. Strike. Strike. Strike. Repeatedly each strike cracked between them and the melody of her flesh tearing with each connection now mixed with the sobs from the very woman who delivered each and every blow. Lauren tried to look over her shoulder but her position was fixed. She was unable to witness what she heard but it was impossible to mistake. Cries and sobs of sadness floated behind her as the physical pain relieved her once again. It allowed her thoughts to clear and her mind to sharply process the sounds of emotion ringing true behind her.

Strike.

"I can't do this anymore Lauren."

Strike.

"I know this is the only way you see an exit."

Strike.

"But every scar I place on your body sears a scar on my heart."

Strike.

"You can't live without this. I can't live with this."

The whip dropped to the floor before the woman dropped to her knees. Lauren's calm and calculated breaths contrasted greatly with the heartbreaking cries from behind her. There had never been an outcry of emotion like this before. Lauren struggled against the restraints as her instinct told her to turn around but she couldn't. Pulling harder against the steel beam did nothing but frustrate her, all the while the woman behind her exposed her own torment to the very person who understood torment better than the most damned in all of history.

"Release me."

This order was obeyed, albeit slowly, as the woman crawled to the beam and flipped the ratchet to release the hold on Lauren's arms. Lauren pulled free as the woman curled further to her own knees, uncontrollably voicing her emotions as she buried her face to her hands. Lauren slid her wrists from the binds and crawled around the beam. Kneeling face to face, bared soul to bared soul, Lauren and her beautiful savior stayed frozen in time, in space, and in all of hell itself for a length of time of which neither could be certain.

Lauren's heart had been broken and had crumbled so many times in the past that the prior few years gave her little space to feel, except when in session; the searing gashes created in her skin physically pained her enough to feel. And then there was this woman: this beautiful brunette she discovered after countless tries with random semi-professionals. This woman gave her life, or at the very least, the ability to live days a little easier than days before. She craved her presence, the way her spirit lifted the moment she walked down the sterile hallway and the incredible release of pain at the hand of the very woman who now knelt, broken and tormented before her.

Unsure of her own responses, Lauren reached a gentle hand to a knee and gazed upon those sensitive chocolate orbs with her own reddening eyes. A hand covered hers and the intertwined fingers that came about melded a mix of pain and conflict: the hand that delivered one's freedom had also been delivering her very own demise. It very much was a stalemate, and Lauren chastised herself for forgetting such a basic rule of chemistry. She had taken, and taken, and taken more, all the while the woman she took from had been robbed and emptied on each and every occasion. The transfer of relief had been so one sided that the premise of equilibrium would certainly force an intense shift to the other side in order to even out the balance between give and take. Lauren had tried to move forward without this need but failed every time. There was no living without it. And yet now, she feared she had no choice.

A soft touch to her cheek and Lauren held her breath. The pain throbbed through her back like the best of gifts she had ever received and yet, for some reason, an unfamiliar pain throbbed through her chest like a curse. She forced her energy to suppress it, expel it, destroy it, but the longer that gentle touch graced her face, the weaker she grew in the face of a newly discovered internal war. She lacked time to regroup and reattempt a win over that battle when those lips pressed to hers. A kiss. A kiss that in itself killed her right in that moment. It killed the Lauren she had come to know for years: broken, void of life, void of emotion, void of spirit. Like the cursed wave of a magic wand, or perhaps the blessing of a dash of fairy dust, Lauren Lewis experienced an emotion she never accepted in all her years on this worldly plane.

The overwhelming sensation of hope exploded through Lauren's stone structured soul, fragmenting and scattering that protective barrier far and wide. The softness of her lips never left, imprinting that kiss upon Lauren's hardened heart and providing an inkling of an antidote to a lifelong disease. Could it even be possible? Would it ever be possible? Those were the first two of a thousand questions that flooded her mind. Lauren knew none of the answers, but she did know one thing: her overwhelming want to kiss this woman overshadowed her want for another searing strike across her flesh because in truth, the emotional release that came about from that initial kiss exceeded the emotional release felt in a dozen blood drawing slashes. It created swirls of color in a blackened world, rays of light in a darkened night. Her mind stirred like that of a comatose patient, struggling to find a way to the place where realization and reality comprehension came naturally and the hazy confusion dissipated like the fog touched by the morning sun.

That kiss led to an embrace that further broke boundaries. Strong arms and weak hearts grasped together without the distortion of words. Instead, the silence provided the necessary shroud to protect the fragile state of whatever this shared experience had started. From the end of a rope now appeared a rather untraditional life preserver to which both women clung. No preparation would guide them through whatever experiences would come from this point forward, but in a storm that so many fear, there would always be one who would sail through the endless crashes of every wave.

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And as usual, I don't own any characters.