Author's Note: This is a one piece and is substantially darker than a lot of my other work. It's another one of the rejects from my archives that I reformatted from an earlier draft of a story I ended up not using. With some changes it managed to fit nicely into the Silmar plot line. This takes place a few nights after Mike has rescued Paige before he goes under with the girls.

Warnings: SMUT nonconsent/rough/dominating smut. If you don't like that sort of thing, don't read.


Wednesday Night...

Paige can't sleep Wednesday Night. Well... by this point it's technically three am Thursday morning and Paige is still tossing and turning in her bed. Ever since she returned from Silmar, she hasn't slept well. She's not quite sure if it was the experience itself, or just being constantly reminded that someone is missing beside her.

Before Silmar her and Mike had managed to secretly slip into each other's bed every evening, and she'd gotten used to his presence. Not anymore though. This is her fourth sleepless night, and she's so tired she's just considering going down the hall and curling up next to Mike in his bed. He'd want to talk about things if she did that, and after the way the last conversation went… well, Paige doesn't want a repeat.

She has nothing new to say.

She considers maybe going and curling up next to one of her other roommates to see if just any warm body would help her sleep, but that could bring up awkward issues of it's own. Plus, she's pretty sure it's not just his warmth, but his smell. The way he rhythmically breaths. The way her body curved perfectly into his…

"Damn it." Paige sighs.

Just thinking about it Paige gives up her pride. She'll face whatever scolding he has prepared for her, she just wants to sleep and she needs him for that. Whatever shame it brings her in sleeping beside the man who is keeping Silmar open. She'll betray her girls and sleep safe in his embrace even while they are trapped inside Sulla's house of horrors.

She throws her blanket off of her in a huff and storms out of her room. She tiptoes down the hall to his room and pushes the door open. When she gets inside she's disappointed to find Mike's neatly made bed is empty. She frowns and glances around at the other doors which are all closed, signaling that all her other roommates are asleep. Which means Mike's out at the bars alone, or worse… He's sleeping somewhere else.

She feels nauseous at the thought of Mike with someone else. Suddenly the room feels like it's spinning. Any thought of sleeping is immediately out the window, and she's suddenly wide awake. She needs a bottle of water, or maybe vodka, to calm down. Paige numbly heads down the stairs to head to the kitchen, trying not to think about what Mike be doing at this moment or with whom.

When she reaches the bottom of the stairs, the front door suddenly opens and Paige freezes like the deer caught in headlights. Mike is standing there, clearly not expecting her to be up, because he's staring at her with the same surprised expression.

Paige doesn't know what to say to him. Her mouth is suddenly dry, but all thoughts of water are gone. He stands there staring at her, looking slightly confused, waiting for her as he always does. The silence seems to choke the air.

"Goodnight." Paige finally squeaks, turning to retreat up the stairs.

Mike is faster than her though. In just a few long strides Mike is across the room, up the lower steps and catches her at the stair landing. He spins her around so quickly that her back slams into the wall with a thud. She lets out a surprised gasp, but it is inhaled by his mouth which is suddenly roughly upon hers, kissing her forcefully.

He has her completely pinned up against the wall, and is all heat and steel around her. He's kissing her so hard it's as if he's trying to drive her into the plaster. His tongue forces it's way into her mouth and she's flooded with the taste of alcohol. She's feeling dizzy, but she's not sure if it's from the lack of air, the surprise itself, or a possible concussion.

He's kissing her hard and fast, and she is having trouble even processing what is happening as he ravishes her mouth. At some point she tastes the slight iron ting of blood, but can't tell if it's her's or Mike's and he seems completely unconcerned by it. He keeps kissing her, grinding against her hip, pushing her against the wall until finally he pulls away, both gasping for breath.

"Mike, what armfph..." She starts to ask what's going on, when Mike's four fingers roughly shove into Paige's mouth, effectively stopping her question and nearly gagging her in the process.

Paige's eyes go wide as she stares at Mike in surprise, too shocked by his sudden dominant violation to move. His eyes are an intense combination of anger and lust, covered in a drunken glaze, and he stares at her stuffed mouth with fascination. Paige had always had trouble seeing how anyone could ever think him as dangerous with his innocent schoolboy face and clean cut good looks, but at a moment like this, she saw it clearly. Still it wasn't fear she felt, but excitement. She felt excited and strangely curious. Despite his unpredictable behavior, all they'd been through, she still trusts Mike with her life.

Mike watches her face and lightly pulls his fingers out before pushing them back in again. He seems mesmerized by the sight of them disappearing between her pink lips and reappearing again glistening with her saliva. Paige doesn't know what else to do except suck on his hand, hallowing her cheeks, and curling her tongue around each digit as he slowly finger fucks her mouth. He groans at the sight of her lips stretching to accommodate his hand and pushes his fingers in deeper until he hits her gag reflex. Paige thrashes, but he keeps her pinned firmly in place.

"Shhh…. you can take it." He soothes her encouragingly. She stares at him wide eyed. The Mike she knows would have stopped at the slightest sign of her discomfort, but he just stares at her expectantly. She calms herself down, and stills her body, her eyes locked with his. As she relaxes her throat so he can continue to pump his fingers in and out of her mouth, a pleased smirk tugs at the corner of his lip. She can feel a rush of wet heat between her legs, her body preparing itself to receive him whether Paige is mentally ready or not.

She can feel him unbuckling his belt with his free hand and she hears the sound of his zipper being unzipped. Her eyes widen. They are on the landing in the middle of the stairs, anyone of their other roommates could come out and discover them at any minute. Considering how hard he slammed her into the wall, she's surprised someone hasn't come out to investigate already. The look in his eyes tells her he has no intention of stopping now, or of moving them to a more discrete locations. Her fingers dig into the wall behind her, but he has her caged in with his body.

He slips his wet fingers from her mouth, and Paige considers for the briefest of moments whether she should make a run for it. Before she can move, his other hand comes up to grasp her throat. He holds her in place against the wall, not enough to hurt her, but just tight enough so her face begins to brighten to a lovely shade of pink.

She prepares to be forced to her knees, and she in salivates at at the thought of what he might shove down her throat to replace his fingers. She can feel his erection, hot and hard, pressing into her hip, but the moment doesn't come. Instead he leans in close, his breath ragged as he thrusts into his own wet palm. Her pride feels slightly wounded that he would choose his own hand over her, especially when she is so close and at his mercy, but the way his eyes are staring at her possessively and his body pins her close, it's hard to feel rejected.

Her eyes dart up nervously towards the top of the stairs again, expecting someone to walk in on them at any moment. He brings his lips back to hers again, wanting to be her sole focus. He kisses her sloppily as he jerks himself against her. Just when she starts to catch up, kissing him back just as frantically as she can when pinned against the wall, he pulls his lips away and buries his head in her hair beside her neck.

"Fuck, you piss me off." He grunts as Paige gasps for breath. He nips at her shoulder as he talks. Paige barely feels it through the cloud of adrenaline and lust pumping through her veins.

Without meaning to, her body begins to push back against his, trying to angle herself so he'll grind against her center. He should be thrusting into her, instead of his hand. No matter how mad she is, she wants him inside her..

The response of her body to his is not unnoticed by Mike, and he tightens his grasp around her neck. "Stay still. This is me, using you." He growls menacingly. "This is what you want, isn't it Paige? Me not to care? Me to use you? You want to feel like nothing? Like you're one of the tinkerbells? Like your my whore? Fine. Take it."

Her body stills, now only shaking with the residual force of him rocking against her, using his wet palm to create the friction he needs. He's bucking into his hand with a quick jerky rhythm that's unlike the controlled smooth thrusts he had used to plunge into her in the past. His breathing is getting even more erratic and his groans seem to echo in the empty stairwell.

Paige's fingers twitch with need to remove his hand and replace it with her own. She wants to feel the weight of him in her hand, feel his heat, bring him right to the brink of ecstasy until he begged her for release, but she can't from the way he has her pinned against the wall. The only thing she can do is bring her hands up to dig into his back, pulling him even closer to her, even as he cuts off her air supply. At this moment it feels like she needs him more than breathing.

As her nails dig into his shoulder blades he buries his head in the crook of her neck, letting the feel of her skin against his face and her scent surround him. "Listen carefully. Here's what's going to happen..." His voice is dangerous and gruff as he pushes against her even harder, his fingers tightening around her throat.

"I bought you. I own you. You're mine and you can hate me all you want, but it doesn't change the fact that you belong to me. So you can continue ignoring me during the day," Mike gasps raggedly in her ear, "But at night remember... you're mine."

His hips continue to thrust against her, driving her against the wall, but his hand that was jerking himself comes up to trace his thumb over her gasping lips. "This is mine."

His fingers trail down to squeeze her breast, and through the fabric he roughly pinches her nipple which is standing out hard through the thin fabric. "Mine." He hisses harshly.

"You know what else is mine?" His hand continues it's trail down her body to slip under the hem of her shorts, where he finds her wet and waiting. He smirks sadistically at her, "God, you're such a whore for me. So wet and ready. Should I use what's mine? Should I take you right here in the hallway, Paige? What would your roommates think if they came out and saw you fucking yourself on my dick like the sex-crazed slut you are?"

Paige's eyes don't even look up towards the stairs this time. She doesn't care who catches them. All she cares about is his fingers are plunging in and out of her, and his thumb is pressing against her clit and she rocks her hips desperately trying for more friction. She almost had forgotten how good Mike was with his hands… She was so close to release.

"You want me to fuck you? Beg for it." Mike orders, and Paige swears to god she would, if she could manage to form any words at all. The hand on her throat is keeping her mute and she starts to squirm with need. For him. For air. For release.

"No? Ok, I guess I'll just finish myself." Mike says, fully aware that she can't speak at the moment. His hand, now slick with her wetness, slides back down to continue jerking his cock with quick rough strokes against her. He keeps his eyes trained on her face, watching to see right when he's taken her to the edge of what she can stand. He's surprised she's still conscious. She always was tougher than she appeared.

Paige's face is almost purple at this point and her watery eyes start to roll back into her head. She feels delirious, on the brink of passing out, unable to focus on anything but his rough words in her ear turning her on more than she thought possible as he whispers in rhythm with his strokes, "Mine… All mine… Mine alone… My only, oh… Forever… Paige..."

She notices towards the end, his words are developing a soft loving edge, much different than the possessive demanding tone he's been using tonight, and that somehow is draining the fight out of her, and she starts to drift into welcome blackness.

"Fucking say it." Mike barks, using his grip on her neck to bring her head forward so he can knock it back into the wall to keep her conscious and focused on the moment. "What are you, Paige?"

"Yours, Mike." Paige chokes out the words with the last of the air in her lungs.

Mike lets go of her throat, but crushes his lips to hers in one last forceful kiss as he cums. He thrusts up close against her, the hand that was jerking his cock roughly grabs her thigh to wrap it around his waist as he thrusts against her, releasing himself between them, kissing her with desperate abandonment. She can feel the hot liquid soaking through the thin fabric of her pajama pants, and she wantonly writhes against him. Her fingers tangle in his hair roughly, trying to maintain her balance, as she tries to keep up with the crushing force of his lips.

When his shaking finally subsides, he rests his head against the wall beside Paige, breathing heavily. Paige feels him wiping the tip of his softening dick off against her now soiled pajamas. Paige stands frozen in place, the oxygen finally coming back to her, as his whole body slumps against her. She can feel his heart pounding in his chest and can see the beads of perspiration at the base of his neck.

"There. Are you happy now? I treated you like a whore. Like I never pulled you out of that hellhole you begged me to leave you in." Mike finally grumbles in between uneven alcohol laced breaths, looking tired, spent, and still angry. Paige doesn't want to start another fight, by informing him what they just did was nothing like the humiliation and fear the tinkerbells went through. "Can we just please just fucking go to bed already? I'll be gone before you wake up, I promise."

Paige just nods wordlessly, still in shock. He doesn't make eye contact with her now that he's done. Instead he looks down and tucks himself back into his pants, then turns and drags himself up the stairs and walks straight into Paige's room without looking back.

Paige stands frozen in the hallway trying to make sense of what just happened. Her hand comes to her hip and she feels his warm sticky residue on the boxers she's wearing as her pajamas. It's the only proof that she has, other than her bruised lips, that anything unusual occurred. Stunned, she wanders up the stairs and pauses in her doorway, unsure what awaits her on the other side.

She takes a deep breath and walks into the room. Folded on her desk she sees Mike's clothes, and in her bed, lying facing away from her is a boxer clad Mike. He still won't look at her as she hesitantly crawls into bed. She watches him curiously, trying to figure out what's going through his mind by staring at his back. She's not sure if this man in her bed is the sweet gentle Mike she knows, or the drunk angry Mike that ravished her in the hallway. She's not even sure which one she wants him to be right now.

When it becomes apparent he's not planning on rolling over, or speaking first, she realizes she doesn't know what to say to him. So she decides to try to go to sleep and hopes words will come to her by the morning. She rolls over facing away from him, thankful that any version of Mike is back in her bed. Once she's settled in, curled up in fetal position, she feels him readjust on the bed next to her. She waits for him to speak, because she can tell he's building up his nerve.

"I didn't hurt you too much, did I?" Mike's voice is fading back to it's normal cautious tone.

"I'm fine." Paige says quickly, and Mike winces because both of them know that fine never means fine. Before he can try to talk more, she directs, "Just go to sleep, Mike."

Hesitantly, he rolls back over to resume his normal big spoon role, and she breaths out a sigh at the feel of his breath on her neck and the way he cautiously places his arm around her. His hand rests on her hip where earlier he came against her, and he wipes it off against his own shorts.

"Sorry about the mess." He mumbles sleepily, sounding like the Mike she knows again. "Hope it doesn't stain."

"It's ok. It's your boxers I'm wearing." She says, trying to make her voice regain it's normal bravado, but it trembles slightly.

Mike laughs sleepily, and lays an appreciative kiss on her shoulder. It's not much, but somehow the small gesture makes things seem almost normal between them again. Paige finally relaxes, snuggling further back into Mike's arms and he hugs her to his chest, wrapping around her. After a week of sleepless nights apart, the two quickly fall asleep together.


The Previous Monday Night…

She screams with her very last breath, but it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. She thrashes and cries out, knowing it will not do any good to abate her attackers. No one is coming to rescue her. She's going to die here and she only wishes death would come faster.

"Paige! Paige, it's ok!" She barely hears the words over the panicked pounding of her heart.

She feels the hands on her wrists and shoves back opening her eyes, tears leaking from them.

"Shhh…. It's ok. It's just me. You're having a nightmare. You were screaming. You're safe. You're home." Paige's heart continues to pound in her chest as she realize Mike is holding onto her in a firm but gentle grip around her body. "I've got you. You're safe… It's ok..."

Paige's eyes dart around her room and she realizes that she's in her own bed. No one's attacking, it's just Mike. She throws her arms around him and clings to him like she's drowning as she tries to push away the night terror's hold on her. He holds her and whispers soothingly to her that everything's ok, but she needs more than that.

She reaches up and pulls his face down to hers pressing her lips against his. He pulls back, and in her panicked state she's confused. She leans in to desperately kiss him again, and again, almost pushing him off the bed as she tries to crawl further into his lap. He finally holds her still in his arms, kissing her back gently, and even his kisses seem to carry a soft soothing 'shhhhh...' with them. Tears are still running down her cheeks, and if she can just kiss him hard enough she can erase the feeling of other lips that have violated her. She knows Mike can make the nightmares go away and kisses him harder, sloppy and desperate.

"Hey… easy. Calm down. I've got you. You're safe." Mike whispers against her lips gently. "It's just me. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."

She barely hears his words, and instead starts to tear at his clothing. She rips the buttons from his shirt, desperate to feel the warm skin underneath. Once again he seems hesitant and she wonders why. She brings her lips back to his and he kisses her slowly, and softly, trying to calm her down. She just needs him to push out the bad dreams, the memories of...

She suddenly feels a wash of guilt rush over her as everything comes back to her. The reason Mike's hesitating is because they don't do this anymore. Not after Silmar. Everything's not ok. Paige may be able to wake up from the nightmare, but somewhere out there, Lina is trapped in that warehouse with Sulla. Who knows what tortures she might be enduring without Paige there to protect her. And what was Paige doing about it? Nothing. No, what Paige was doing was worse than nothing.

FBI knew where the place was now. They could shut it down. They could end Lina and all the other tinkerbells suffering and free them, but Paige wasn't doing any of that. Instead Paige was safe and kissing the lips of the man who was responsible for keeping Silmar open. She hated herself for wanting Mike, for being so weak that she couldn't stay away from him. She was betraying Lina with every soft swipe of his tongue. Every gentle touch.

He's being soft and tender with her as he kisses her, murmuring false promises. He's stroking her hair and kissing her lips and telling her how worried he was and how he would do anything for her.

She should kick him out, and put up the same defenses she's had this week towards him but she can't bring herself to do it. She can't accept his tenderness either. She's fighting a war in her head between what she wants and what she feels is right as she kisses him. Suddenly without warning she bites down hard on his lip, and he pulls away in surprise and pain. Before he can react though, she pulls him back to her, kissing his roughly until she can taste his blood on her tongue.

"What the hell Paige? That hurts." Mike protests, pulling away.

"What are you going to do about it, Mike? Punish me?" She asks, looking up with a wild daring look in her eyes.

Mike's brow furrows as he looks at her in confusion, trying to figure out what exactly is going on. He has very little time to think about it though, because Paige is quickly kissing him again, pulling his sweatpants down and climbing on top of him. She impales herself on him quickly, with no warning, and begins roughly riding him her lips still glued to his.

Mike tries to keep up, tries to slow her down, but she's a wild creature in his lap.

She scratches down his bare chest, biting, and clawing at him. He manages to roll over so he's on top, and once he's in control he slows down, trying to gently kiss her neck in the spot he knows she loves.

She doesn't want him soft and gentle right now. She doesn't deserve it. Until those girls are free, she deserves nothing but pain. She hits his chest with one hand and he tries to pull away but she uses the other hand digging into his neck pulling him to her.

He pulls back so he can stare down at her face, brushing her hair out of her eyes, still trying to set a softer pace and calm her down. She grabs the hand stroking her cheek and places it on her throat, choking herself with his hand.

"No! Paige, Just stop! I don't want to hurt you!" Mike insists, pulling back and rolling off of her. He sits beside her on the bed, running his fingers through his hair in an agitated manner, unable to figure out what the hell has gotten into her.

"Just do it! Because I can't deal with you looking at me like that!" Paige screams at him.

"Like what?" Mike asks, confused with what the hell is going on here.

"Like I'm some precious rare flower that you want to worship. Just hit me. Act like a man and just throw me down and force me to take you."

"I don't want to force you to do anything, Paige! Where is this coming from? You've never wanted me to be this rough with you before." Mike says breathlessly, staring at her in confusion. "Look maybe we should slow-"

"I don't want you to take it slow! I want you to tear me apart. Just hit me." Paige says in frustration.

"What are you-" But he barely gets the word out because Paige has slapped him across the face and stares at him with a daring look in her eye. When he doesn't react other than to freeze and look away, she hits him again. When she still doesn't invoke the violent reaction she craves she goes to hit him a third time but he catches her wrist before she makes contact.

"You done now?" He asks, holding her wrist in his hand, not knowing what this is about. "Look I'm sorry. If you want me to stop, you could have just-"

"Jesus why can't you just shut up and fuck me already?" She uses his grip on her wrist to pull him back and wraps a leg around him. The two struggle for a moment, Mike mostly just trying to avoid hurting her as he ends up lying on the bed on top of her.

He manages to get a hold of both of her wrists, and uses the rest of the weight of his body to pin her down to the bed. She leans up and kisses him again, and by this point Mike has no clue what's going on. Mike finally has her pinned to the bed, but more so she won't injure herself, than out of dominance.

"Why are you acting like this?" Mike demands. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Because I don't deserve it! Do you know what's happening to those girls Mike?" Paige demands, "He's raping them! And I can't do anything to save them. And you… Mike what am I supposed to do with you now? I'm so confused. You saved me, and part of me is so grateful, but you're leaving other girls just like me in there… it should have been me. How can I see the way you look at me and touch me, when they're out there? Why me? Why did you save me?"

"Because I needed you here." Mike admits. "I couldn't breathe without you Paige… I need you here. I need you safe."

"I don't deserve it. I don't want it. Not until they're free..." Paige says.

"So what? You want me to treat you like a tinkerbell?" Mike laughs bitterly.

The laugh dies in his throat when he sees the look she gives him and realizes that's exactly what she's asking.

"How? Paige, I can't hurt you." Mike says, terrified by the words she's saying.

He feels a rage building inside him, but he can't take it out on her. It's reserved for Sulla, for Solano, for Sid, but mostly for Mike himself. He would hold everyone accountable for what happened to her.

"Then what good are you? Get the fuck out!" Paige screams at him.

Not wanting to leave her alone like this, but not sure what else to do, Mike slowly gets off her bed, grabs his shirt, and slowly leaves her room. When he closes the door to her room he slides down the wall defeated, listening helplessly to her sobs from inside the room.


Thursday Morning...

The next morning, as promised, Paige wakes to an empty bed. On her nightstand she sees a short hastily scribbled note from Mike. She stares at the neat harsh font, recognizing the familiar words. "Believe me, there's a version of that, that I want- but not like this."

She curls up alone in her rumpled sheets, the note clutched in her hand, feeling even more lost and worthless than she did before.