Author: Arashi
Rating: R. Definite R
Genre: Angst. Angst. Bad-ness .
Summary: warning Rape-Fic. Forewarned. A Rape lingers. Memories ripe with angst and horror. A chance to forget. A chance to remember. A chance to let go?
Notes: RAPE FIC. Um...I blame Assena for putting the idea in my head. Thanks to Assena and Winchester-Dream for reading the first part and for telling me it did not suck XD Love you guys!
Here was Fear
Blue
Tanned fingers trembled as they touched the coarse wood of the door, feeling it heat up beneath them as though in rememberance. Here was pain and hurt. Here was fear and anger. Here was suffering.
"Are you sure about this? Facing what happened here won't be easy..." The voice was strong and protective and he wanted to melt away, deep into it's compassion and love.
"I know. But if I don't I'll never escape...what he did to me..." The pause after his words was almost deafening and tired brown eyes met feisty green ones, searching for any hint of refusal. He found none. "Are you sure? This will...maybe...hurt you as much as me..."
Strong arms encircled his back and he sighed gratefully, leaning back against the comforting body, pressed, flush against his. Lips pressed to his neck and he nuzzled against the face, words whispered gently against his ear. "If I wasn't sure I wouldn't have come..."
He was beginning to wish he hadn't. Did he really think that he could do this? That if he did this it would just go away? That he wouldn't have to suffer this anymore? The idea was so ludicrous that he almost laughed. Almost. "God...What the fuck am I doing?"
In comparison, his voice was weak and...he didn't even want to think about it. He hated fear. Hated it with as deep a passion as he hated James Fucking Peterson for making him feel it in the first place.
Steeling himself, he stepped into the room, pointedly ignoring the reassuring words and gestures behind him. It was as if nothing had changed. The room was still dark. And, as if he was back in time, he could imagine the way it had been then too...
The smell of stale sweat and sex filled his nostrils, threatening to choke him, nausea making him want to retch. His fingers curled into fists, nails scraping the palm of his hand, drawing blood.
Here was Rememberance
Grey
"So this is the famous Tracy Spirit? Where's the fight gone?"
Skin on Skin. Sweat and Sex.
"Fight Dammit! Scream...do Something You worthless piece of shit!"
Pain. The taste of blood in his mouth.
"Fuck." The scrape of nails on flesh. "This wasn't what it was supposed to be like...you were supposed to give back..."
Tears. Salty and wet on his cheeks. Unbearable Pain.
"You're worthless...less than that...Who's going to want you now? I wish you daddy could see what his precious son is reduced to...better yet, your brother Scott. He wouldn't even want to touch you now...how does that feel?"
Numb. Anger. Fear. Pain.
Here was Anger
Red
"FUCK!" The shout echoed in the empty room and he wanted to throw...something..anything. He punched the door, pain shooting through his hand but he ignored it, turning to face inevitability. "I want to do this...now..."
He waited for the inevitable rejection. The promises of later...and maybe next time. But they never came. Pain was evident in the green eyes...along with fear and passion..but all of it was for him rather than at him. Here was love in it's greatest form. But even now he couldn't let go of his anger.
So he chanelled it in the only way he knew how.
Here was Passion
Orange
Body against Body. Fingers roaming, tangling, stroking. Lips pressed together, bodys flush and tangled. Tongues slid against each other, hands groping and caressing as they kissed. The starlk contrast to that day almost has him smiling ironcially. That anyone could love him like this after what had been said then
He'd shown Him. He'd shown them all.
A hand slipped between his legs and he arched against the strong fingers, bringing him to full hardness as his eyes slid shut, his breath ragged and hitching in his throat every now and then.
Here was Love
Purple/Pink
"I love you..." The words were a welcome distraction from what he was thinking but fear and anger and passion and darkness still threatened to overwhelm him, so his fingers clutched at the strong back like a lifeline. Love. Love. Love. He loves me. Scott Loves Me.
...Scott loves me. Virgil Loves Me. Alan loves Me. John Loves me. They Do. They Do. He needed to think that. Had to think that. Hands pinned him to the bed, nails scraping the skin on his wrists and he bit back a scream. Bit back a shout of pain. Bit back on anything that would give satisfaction. This wasn't him...if he tried hard enough...it wasn't him...wasn't his hands being restrained...wasn't his W.A.S.P Suit being torn to shreds...wasn't him...wasn't him...
"...wasn't you?..." He fought to focus again on the face above him. Green eyes were regarding him carefully. "What wasn't you?" It was a repeat of the question. He knew that. He chose his words carefully, knowing that if he gave too much away now, he wouldn't be able to do this at all.
"I...had to pretend...it wasn't me...so that it didn't hurt as much." He tried to whisper the words, make them less real. But they just echoed in the room like a shout and he steeled hismelf against the words leaving his brothers mouth.
"Did it work..?"
He didn't answer for a minute, just let those green eyes shift to his neck, the soft lips of his brother press against his pulse, kissing it lightly, sucking at the soft skin. He arched into the mouth his eyes squeezing shut against the onslaught of memories from all sides.
"No..."
..."NO!" He hadn't meant to shout. hadn't meant to lend satisfaction to James Fucking Peterson but it had happened anyway. He watched the smirk and the malicious intent in the dark eyes. And felt his fear grow. His fear and his submission. He couldn't fight...no...could fight..but wouldn't...What was the point? If he didnt fight then he could pretend it never happened. Couldn't he? "Why...? Why do you want to hurt me?"...
"...I'll never hurt you..." He knew that. He always had. But what was to stop him hurting him? Especially now? Soft hands caressed his sides and the nails...
...scraped against the skin, red marks marring the tanned skin and he bit back a cry of pain. Blood was already matting his hair, James Fucking Peterson's hands covered in it...from his body. Blood from him.He wanted to cry. But that was weakness. Tears would be a weakness...
...Tears weren't a weakness. He knew that. Scott had told him so, and ewasn't it Scott who mattered now? He sucked in a breath as his brothers tongue slid across his collarbone, and down to his right nipple, teeth teasing it to hardness. He trembled in pleasure and fear alike...He wanted it to be over...didn;t want it over...he was confused...What did he want?
..."What do you want?" The harsh smirk tunred its full power on him an dhe sank even lower into the bed, if it was possible. He wanted out...fuck being somewhere else...fuck pretending it wasn't happening...it was and he didn't want it anymore. But...fear gripped his whole body. He Couldn't and not because he didn't want to..he physically couldn't...he needed to remember what had happened...
...He needed to remember what happened...he knew he did...so...why was this so hard to do? He'd remembered countless times before...nightmares...daydreams...when he didn't want to remember...so why now, when he did, was it so hard?
The answer came in the form of compassionate green eyes. Scott. Scott was why he didn't want to do this. He'd be hurting Scott. And that...that...that was out of the question. He placed a hand on his brothers shoulder and pushed him back, letting Scott know that this was going to stop. But Scott didn't. He just stared straight into his eyes and infused everything into them at once. It was overwhelming. And...and...and...he...closed his eyes and gripped Scott's shoulders, his fingers digging hard into Scott's skin, the elder boy supressing a cry of pain. He felt it though. Felt it shudder through his brothers body.
Say Sorry...say it...say it...but he knew he couldn't. He couldn't apologise until this was over. And he wanted it over. More than anything else he wanted it over
he wanted it over...but he knew it would never be. The numb feeling had spread throughout his body. He was spent. And everything inside of him wanted to give up. So he did. In every way possible he gave in. It wasn't in character. It wasn't what a Tracy did. But he didn't give a fuck. He couldn't fight it anyway. And the more he tried to fight back, the worse it became. So. In every sense of the word, he gave up. "I don't care..." The words seemed to make James Fucking Peterson angry and the harsh nipping at his neck turned into fully fledged biting and he could feel wetness on his neck, indicating more blood had been drawn. Not even that bothered him. "Fuck you Tracy! Fight Goddamit! Live up to your reputation! What about your brother? What about him huh? Do you think he would just lie there?" and there it was...the reason that
Here was Jealousy
Green
"...jealousy...is that why he did it?" He registered the question and almost smiled that Scott seemed to be keeping pace with his memories. But he was too intent on the hands sliding against his cock, the tanned fingers teasing the sensitive skin, and sending pleasurable tingles shooting through his body. He arched against the touch, his erection begging release even as Scott's hand increased it's pace. "What was he jealous of?"...He almost didn't answer. He wanted Scott...wanted Scott...wanted Scott to suck him off...that tongue to slide up his cock...wanted Scott...just wanted Scott.
Eventually, Scott slid down his body, his mouth taking him right to the hilt, his fingers at the base of the cock, sliding down to cup his balls. The tremors ran through him like wildfire and he fought to answer Scott through his haze. "I don't know..." It was a lie and he knew it. Scott. That was what James Fucking Peterson had wanted. It was always Scott. Scott knew too. He could feel it in the increased pace of Scott's mouth. The way his fingers dug a little too harshly into his balls and against his thighs. The way Scott's teeth grazed against...
...his cock. He wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to yell in pain, but now his mouth wouldn't even work. The drugs in his system were starting to really affect him and he wondered how long it would be before he passed out. If he was even allowed that small mercy. In a sadistic way, he wondered if he would be forced to suffer through this consious. It would just be like the Fucked Up God that allowed this to happen in the first place to keep him concious. Detached, he felt the teeth of James Fucking Peterson graze his cock over and over and wasnt surprised to see blood when the mouth was removed. He felt dirty and ashamed when he came, and humilated when James Fucking Peterson turned his face away in disgust, letting the cum splash against his cheek, as though to let it in his mouth would degrade him. He had never felt so...fucking alone...
"You were never alone..." Scott spoked the words as he pulled away slightly, only to take him into his mouth once more, and he refused to acknowledge the words as he felt the inevitable feeling pushing through his body, his orgasm shaking him to the bone, as he came, Scott drinking him down. He didn't feel dirty...didn't feel humiliated. But that didn't stop the words from leaving his mouth.
"Yes I was...you weren't there...weren't there...you weren't there..." Scott...James Fucking Peterson...Scott looked at him in guilt and...anger...and fingers brushed...scraped...his skin and he arched...shrank away...to the touch, his mouth moving...speaking...but no words would come out.
Here was confusion
Black
His worlds were melding...memory wih reality...he didn't know which was which...
"Fuck you Tracy!"
Hands engulfing his body, pulling him close. The rough push and then pain shot through his every nerve as his body was ripped apart from the inside.
"Stay with me baby..."
A gentle caress...A slow slide inside his body...gentle and loving and...
"...nobody gives a fuck about you!"
"I give a fuck about you..."
"You're worthless..."
"You mean the world to me..."
"Hate..."
"Love..."
"STOP!"
Here was The End
Black
He lay against the cool sheets, his body trembling and arms wrapped against himself. So. This was it. Was he fixed now? Could he forget? Fuck no. And he'd known at the very beginning that it wouldn't...so...why...why...why had he done it? "I'm so fucking sorry..." Green eyes stared at him in guilt...and love...and compassion...and self-loathing...and fucking everything at once.
"Don't be..." And this was the reason he had done it. So that he could...fuck..make love...no fuck...Scott without seeing James Fucking Peterson's face every time he did so. And he hoped now that he could...not forget...never forget...not forget...just...deal. Scott kissed him, his lips warm and caring as they pressed against his.
Maybe now he could. James Fucking Peterson could rot in hell. This was his now...this was his future...the past was there...always would be there...but it wouldn't rule him. Not anymore. Let it linger...let it come out now and then...but he'd be fucked if he let it intefere..."Love you..."
Scott smiled.
Here was happiness
Yellow
"I love you to Gordon..."