Violation
An Agents of SHIELD fanfic by Aisling Yinyr Ngaio
It only hit him when he undressed for the first time since Vegas.
He was alone in the shower of the Bus. He saw himself in the mirror, saw the many marks left on his nude body. Not from fights or battle, but from the hotel last night.
Almost dazed, he traced the crescent shapes on his chest. Somehow he felt the similar marks on his back stinging for the first time since they'd been made…
He had been so focused on what he'd done to his teammates, who he'd almost killed. Indeed, he'd pulled the trigger into May's face. It was only her quick thinking and movements that had saved her from him.
May was always careful not to mark me when we… he thought disjointedly.
Abruptly, he vomited.
Ward shuddered violently over the bathroom sink, heaving long after there was nothing left in him. He had been so horrified at his potential body count while enslaved, at hurting the teammates he'd sworn to protect, that he'd almost forgotten what had been done to him.
He slid down slowly onto the floor, weak from the floodgates finally opening. Gasping over the tears unknowingly rolling down his face, he saw it all again, but this time through his own eyes, unclouded by the blind devotion to the Asgardian seductress.
He remembered knowing deep down that she cared nothing more for him than other men, and still he followed her. Recalled ecstasy beyond measure that he had been allowed the privilege to pleasure his goddess. How eager he had been to serve her every whim and need, her every want and desire, if only to be able to stay by her side for as long as possible.
How he'd been deceived into believing that he belonged to her. He'd cuddled her in the night, taking the passion for what it was not, forgetting that he was only being used and abused by one who had taken away his free will and his privacy, when she drew forth secrets that he didn't even know he was trying to hide from himself. How she'd used them to hurt the ones closest to him, a cruelty which he'd been slavishly complicit in.
He cried in shame for what his forced devotion to her had led him to allow. He hardly felt the bitter taste of bile in his mouth as his pain, his rage at his own actions overwhelmed him.
It was a long while before he collected himself enough to uncurl from the fetal position on the floor and entered the shower stall, almost on autopilot. Letting the cold water wash away his tears, he had to stop himself from scrubbing soap furiously over his body, trying to erase the marks she'd made – marks of her ownership of him.
He felt unclean. He felt violated.
He didn't know how he could ever face the team again, or tell them all he'd done, all he'd allowed done to him.
He stayed wide awake that night, wishing for the peaceful sleep that never came, haunted by nightmares of a mocking smile.
Lorelei...
- Finis -