Disclaimer: The recognisable characters in this story don't belong to me, and neither do the locations.

This story is under revision.


WIASAD: Prologue

In, out. In out. Come on Harry - do it right. Don't choke! You can't choke! Swallow, please, please! Nononononononostupidstupidstupid STUPID! Choke. His mouth fills with come and he wants to spit it out, but he knows. He has to swallow everything, because that's all he's good for. A toy and a cocksucker. He's not able to help himself though, and some dribbles out of the corner of his mouth. In an attempt to lick it before it's gone, he sticks out his tongue. Mistake. He loses what he's supposed to swallow and his head drops in shame.

For a moment, there is near-silence. The only noise harsh panting as the other comes down from his high. Maybe I was good enough, anyway. Maybe I'm getting better! When the smack comes, it is out of nowhere. He near flies across little space in the cramped room, his head impacting with a sickening crack against the cold stone. Blood blooms quickly, coating the side of his head, and he draws ragged breaths. But its okay, because he needs this, you know. He's happy someone can put him in his place.

His assailant moves, steel-tipped boots scraping ominously against the ground, which he notes is rather slimy now that he's lying on it. He closes his eyes only to stop the blood getting in he tells himself. He's not scared. He's not allowed to be. That's why he only lets out a grunt when he is kicked in the stomach. That's why when his arm snaps, he smiles, and when his nose is broken he sighs a little. My penance, he tells himself. And it makes it all okay, even when he knows his abuser is getting aroused over the little sounds he makes.

Small tears run down his face, because he doesn't really want to have to be punished for every little thing he does. He wants to be normal and have someone normal love him, because doesn't he deserve that much at least? Don't delude yourself. Of course not. What, you want a relationship like your friends? Then stop being so worthless. And he knows his mind is right, because, well, it always is.

But soon the pain grows even too much for him, and he begins to beg like the broken coward I am. The tears make small pathways down his cheeks and he wishes for it all to stop, for the beating to stop, for his heart to give out, for his brain to shut down. Where was his love? Where was the gentleness from when he was made love to? Gone. Now all he had left was a psy- perfectperfectperfectmorethanyoudeserve. Oh if he could hear you now, if he knew what treacherous things you were thinking.

Love was for the good and obedient. He has been so, so bad. He shivers, and the action makes him wince at the agony this subjects him to. When he thinks these thoughts, that's when things go wrong and he doesn't achieve easy tasks like swallowing without needing to come up for air. That's why he's glad the elder always forgave him for the slips.

This… this pain is worth it. It is worth the forgiveness he would get in the end for his frequent misdeeds and slip-ups. Worthitwworthitworthit. Of course it's worth it. You're dirt for thinking otherwise. Dirt. Ask for his forgiveness: lord knows you need it.

He looks up to do just this, and sees a horrified pair of cinnamon eyes looking at him in shock. He is picked up gently, strong hands slipping under his battered frame and rocking him softly. He hisses with pain, but its okay because the love is coming.

"I'm so sorry, love. I love you so much. You're my everything. Why do you make me do this to you? Why can't you do as you're told?" He whimpers, not knowing why the words feel like being stabbed through the heart. He speaks softly, not wanting to make his lover waste remorse on him.

"I'm the one that must apologise and I'm so sorry. I deserved this all. I should have done what you said, I know." A desperate thought comes to mind: something he's been threatened with before. "Please don't leave me! I need you. I… I love you." He winces slightly but stays silent after this. Nothing more should be said until he knows how his lover, he's your lover feels.

The man who has kicked him to within an inch of his life grins with a smile so full of joy it makes the battered boy cry. He feels that joy sometimes. When he knows that he's not alone anymore, when he wakes up from nightmares and realises that HE is dead. He cries, knowing that it just takes those three little words to turn his abuser into his lover, even though he can't say them that often. He pushes all thoughts to the back of his head, though, along with his deserved pain, because he hears singing. His favourite lullaby, sung every time after a purging of his sins. He is content, because his misdeeds have been forgiven. Unfortunately, they hadn't yet been forgotten.

He falls asleep to the words of the song.

Sleep in peace

My emerald boy

No need for crying

No need for tears

I'll look over you

Keep you from harm

Sleep in peace emerald boy

Sleep in my arms