Twisted Cage, a digimon fanfic

Author(s): Tsaiko and Miome
Title: Twisted Cage (1/?)
Unfinished series
Rated: R (angst, mild S&M references)

Twisted Cage

The disclaimer dance: I do not own Digimon, pretend to own Digimon, or think I own Digimon. Digimon and all its characters are copyright of their repsective owners which is not me. I am not making any money off of this fanfic. It for my (and others) sick amusement.

Author's notes: I have never seen the Japanese version of Digimon. I know nothing about it. All names, personalities, and places are derived from the dub shown on Fox.

Davis slammed his hands to the wall on either side of Ken, effectively pinning him without physical contact. He could feel the heat coming off of Davis, and the anger. All he could do was stare back at the other boy with wide eyes.

"How could you not tell me? I thought that we were working through this!" Davis said as he slammed one fist against the wall hard enough for Ken to feel the vibrations through his back. "Why did you have to go to - to Matt?!"

"Davis..."

"Wasn't it enough that you had me? That I was there for you?" The words were hot and bitter, welling up from a place deep inside Davis. He sounded angry and jealous. Hell, he was angry and jealous. Jealous that Ken felt the need to turn to someone else. Angry that Ken thought his friendship just wasn't enough.

"I can't..." Ken started. It was hard to breathe with Davis this close, to get the thought through the panic and swirl of emotions his nearness produced. "Davis, I can't think with you - please, can we sit down?"

Sitting would at least give the illusion of distance. Though knowing Davis, Ken doubted the other boy would be more than a few inches from him on the couch, being a very physical person by nature. Ken couldn't find it in his heart to hold that against him.

Ken watched as Davis realized what he was doing: cornering Ken. He guiltily dropped his arms, instead placing one hand on Ken's elbow, the other near his waist. Obviously contrite, he guided the other boy to the couch while trying to hold him at arms length. The whole process wound up making them both look rather silly.

Once safely seated, Ken decided to try and explain. "It's wasn't what you think. It wasn't that - the Emperor, I mean. It wasn't about that." He sighed, putting his head in his hands. "It wasn't anything you could help me with Davis."

"I would've tried!" Davis protested. "You know that right?"

"I know." Ken dared to squeeze Davis's hand, the first physical contact he'd initiated with Davis since the whole thing had started.

Davis, not quite knowing what to do for the moment, squeezed back.

He wanted to take the coward's way out. He really, really did. Davis wanted to be able to squeeze Ken's hand, accept what Ken had said so far as explanation, and let the whole matter fade away. But he couldn't. Whether or not Ken was willing to admit it, he needed someone to listen. Anything to prevent a repeat of what had happened.

Davis was walking down the stairs, the bare bulbs over head giving off soft yellow light. He knew what to expect. Matt had told him, everything, in more detail than he wanted to know. Down the stairs, and behind the first door Ken waited for Matt. Tied up, probably blind folded. All things Ken had done to himself in preparation for Matt to ... he didn't want to think about it.

Then he was in front of the scarred wooden door Matt had told him about. This was it. The moment of truth. The turning of the handle was unnaturally loud in the quiet. Davis pushed the door open, head up and ready to meet whatever lay ahead.

The sight before him was something no words could ever have prepared him for.

"So..." With the remnants of the memory still fresh in his mind, it took a lot of courage for Davis to start his question. But once begun, the rest of it just seemed to come out without his control. "What's this big thing I can't help you with?"

"I really don't want to talk about this," Ken said in a desperately pleading voice.

"Too damn bad! 'Cause you gotta deal with it somehow, and I sure as won't let you do it by..." Davis choke on the words. Unbidden, an image of Ken as he'd been in room flashed through his mind. Naked. Kneeling on the floor. White rope around wrists and ankles. "You're not getting anywhere like this. And I'm not letting you get out of why!"

Stubborn silence met Davis's words. The brown haired boy resisted the urge to grind his teeth. Then a thought struck him, one that seemed to take the wind from his sails.

"Did it really make you feel better?" The words were quiet. It was hard to imagine they came from Davis, as loud and obnoxious as his normal tone of voice was.

"Mm." The affirmative noise was accompanied by a nod.

"About yourself?"

Ken hesitated, trying to put into words something he had never quite explained to himself. "No, it just... I could stop punishing myself. When... when Matt..." He couldn't finish the sentence.

"Wouldn't it be easier to just stop feeling guilty?"

The laughter Davis' words startled from Ken was short and bitter.

"What makes you think I deserve to stop-"

The other boy cut him off with an angry motion. "Bah! Same old song!" Davis then started speaking in his best Wormmon voice. "'I'm such a terrible person! I don't deserve to feel happy, or have friends, or to - to- I-don't-know-what!"

"I don't," Ken said softly. "I don't deserve anything."

"You saved the world! You're a good friend, a good student, you've got good manners, you're not nasty to people, even when they totally deserve it, like Yolei when she's acting all superior an' stuff," Davis said with such vehemance in his voice that Ken almost believed him. Almost. "What are you trying to be? A saint?"

All of Ken's attention was suddenly focused on his hands. He couldn't meet Davis's eyes, to see the trust there. The confidence that Ken was not, after all, a bad person. Didn't want to imagine those eyes filled with betrayal and pain should Davis find out the truth.

"Is this about Sam?"

That got Ken to look at him. Eyes were wide with shock, he frantically shook his head. "NO! It's not that! I swear, it's not any of what we've talked about."

"I thought I knew you pretty well... pathetic huh?" Davis wiped at his eyes suddenly, his emotions careening from one extreme to the other. "I've never hid anything from-"

Davis took a deep breath, stopping. It was a lie. There was stuff he'd kept from Ken, stuff he didn't think the other boy needed to know. Things he hadn't told Ken because he was afraid it would hurt him. Which, when you thought about it, was rather ironic.

If Ken noticed Davis' sudden stop, he gave no indication of it. "You're a good friend, better than I deserve. I'm sorry you had to see me like that."

"I'm sorry you thought I wouldn't want to!" Davis snapped back. Then he ran his hands impatiently through his hair, nearly pulling his goggles off. "God, Ken - there's nothing that could make me not wanna be your friend! If there's something wrong, or your hurting, or even if - if you need someone to hold your hand, I want to be there!"

Ken took a deep breath, and when he spoke his voice betrayed the effort it took. "And if I needed someone to hold a whip, would you?"

Davis stared at Ken. "Ok, maybe you didn't notice, but I'm pretty freaked out about the you-getting-beat-up thing. "

"No, really?" Ken said with an semi-amused snort.

"Shut up!" Davis gave Ken a playful shove. Then his laugh lines straightened out, and his face became more serious. "But, if you could convince me that it's really what you need ... then yeah, I'd do it." The words were easy for him to say, because he was convinced that if he had known about what was going on, they could have found another way. Any way that didn't involve taking a whip to Ken's back.

"You don't get it," Ken stated. He shut his eyes, unwilling to look at Davis any longer. He struggled to explain why he couldn't turn to his best friend for help without explaining everything. "The point is... was to hurt me, not you."

"Same difference, ya jerk," Davis replied. "And if it really makes you feel better, that'll make me feel better. So there."

Ken slowly shook his head. "It wouldn't work."

"Why not?

"I'd know that I was ... that you were hurting." It was only with the greatest of efforts that Ken kept the tears back. "I'm the only one who deserves to be hurt from this."

"Fine. I understand," Davis said. He was tired of the seriousness and depression in Ken's voice. It was time to lighten the mood. "If that's the way you really feel then you leave me no choice but to use my... Tickle-Torture-Attack!"

The attack was unexpected, and Ken had no time to erect a defense. Davis's fingers found the sides of his ribs, his armpits, his stomach, and moved in a maddeningly quick pattern. He laughed, trying to squirm out of reach, but the fingers followed. In his desperation to get away, he over balanced and fell onto Davis. Realizing that there was a chance Ken might pin him and stop his fun, Davis began to squirm himself.

"Stop - stop it Davis - stop..!" Each phrase was broken by a separate fit of laughter. "Davis!"

"Beg me, and maybe I will!" The command was said in laughing tone, as Ken's fingers did some tickling of their own. Both of them were moving against each other now, trying desperately to get away and continue to tickle the other. They were a tangle of laughing bodies.

Ken's eyes were tearing and his breathing was ragged by the time he could comply with Davis's request. "Davis...Stop - Davis, please stop - please -! Please. Please."

They both froze as the words hung in the air. Their laughter died and only the sound of their ragged breathing could be heard. Suddenly Davis was back in that small basement room. The look on Ken's face showed that the words had triggered the same memory in him.

The first thing Davis noticed, after his initial shock, was skin. Ken was kneeling on the floor completely naked with his back was to the door. White cord was looped loosely around Ken's wrists. A piece of black cloth was knotted around his head, covering his eyes and blending into the shadows of Ken's hair. A simple blue towel kept Ken off the bare concrete floor. He could see every part of his friend's body: the soft pale gold of his skin, the dark contrast of his hair, the shadow that marked the cleft in his buttocks, the slight arch on the bottom of his foot, the thin welts from previous beatings, the way Ken's shoulders hunched as if anticipating the first blow.

Those scarlet welts were what made the situation real. Everything that had happened up until this point had possessed a dreamlike quality. The discovery, the talk with Matt, the walk down to the basement: all events had been separated from his emotions by a layer of disbelief. Now it was all too real. He stepped towards Ken, listening to the sound his shoes made on the floor, and watched the muscles in Ken's back tense as the kneeling boy sensed someone approach.

"Ken..." That single word, softly spoken, caused the kneeling boy to flinch. Davis dropped to his knees beside his best friend, suddenly shocked to find he had crossed the seemingly endless distance between door and Ken. Everything was blurry. Even his hand, pressed inexplicably against Ken's back, seemed fuzzy around the edges. It wasn't until the first tear fell that he understood why.

He wrapped his arms around Ken, and buried his face against the other Digidestined shoulder. And then Davis let go, crying in huge sobs that wracked his body and made it hard to breathe. Ken was shaking beneath him, his breath hitching in a way that led Davis to believe the other boy was crying too. Above the noise of his bawling, Davis could hear Ken begging him to stop.

"Davis, I'm sorry... Stop - Davis, please stop - please -! Don't cry, Davis. Please stop crying. Please. Please stop."

Suddenly Ken was crying, breathing in that strange panting way that someone who is about to hyperventilate breathes. Davis wrapped his arms around him, the tickle fight having left them lying prone on the couch, Davis sandwiched between Ken and the sofa's back. Not quite sure what to do to make it better, he pressed Ken's face to his shoulder. He felt the hot warmth of tears through his T-shirt.

"It's gonna be ok now. I promise. Everything's going to be fine, you'll see. I'll prove it to you. I promise... " Davis rubbed Ken's back, trying to soothe him with comforting nonsense. Ken shook his head in denial but didn't move away enough to actually say anything.

"It will be fine!" Davis said fiercely, as if will power alone would make it so. "It can't be any harder than saving the world, or putting up with TE, or getting over Kari ..."

Ken's response was muffled but it sounded vaguely like 'two out of three.'

"Hey!" Davis said. He gave the top of Ken's head an indignant look. "I haven't punched him this week, right?"

"You're over Kari?" Ken asked as he looked up. "Since when? "

"Since... I don't know." Then, uneasy about the intense look Ken was giving him, he laughed nervously. "Since I listened to some of Tai's stories. Puts up a good innocent-me act, doesn't she?"

"You can't... you don't just decide you don't love someone anymore," Ken stated. At least he hoped Davis couldn't just turn his emotions on and off like that. Because if he could, it meant Davis could just decide not to be his friend anymore. And that would mean that everything he had done to protect Davis would be for nothing. Panic nearly took his voice. "Emotions don't just go away."

"Well... it's not like I just woke up one day and decided I didn't love her. I mean I do- love her that is- I just don't... not that way. I mean, Kari is perfect. She's too perfect. It would be like kissing a saint." Davis found himself struggling for words, trying to explain something that seemed so obvious to him. Ken still looked skeptical, though some of the wild panic had left his eyes.

"Why are we talking about me, anyway?" Davis asked, suddenly changing the subject. Then, on a hunch he added, "I'm not beating myself up over someone that doesn't like me."

Ken sucked in a breath, feeling like he'd been punched in the stomach. Davis knew. He didn't know how the other boy had figured it out, but he knew. Every muscle went ridged. He couldn't move, couldn't run, couldn't even speak.

"That's it?" Davis was surprised that he had actually guessed right. "Dude! Hey, figures once you'd finally get a crush, you'd go overboard." He knew that being tied up and whipped by Matt was far above just going overboard. It meant that something was seriously wrong. But so much about this situation had been out of his control. This was something that Davis felt he could control or, barring that, help Ken with. "Who is it? I'll help you win her over!"

It took a few minutes for Davis' last words to penetrate his shock. But once they did, Ken didn't know which emotion was greater, relief or disappointment. Davis had no clue. He grabbed Davis's shoulder, pulled him closer, and once again buried his face against the other Digidestined.