WARNING: rated M for a reason. this fic deals with rape if you can't handle such content then do not read please. i don't think it gets terribly explicit but i suppose that's subjective.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot capiche? (how do u spell that word?)

explanation of fonts:

'thoughts'

flashbacks

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Broken

She didn't say anything when he came to her, bruised and battered. She just healed him and ached seeing his hurt the pain in his eyes. He was Larxene's 'toy' just as she'd been Marluxia's. She still remembered that horrible time it began.

He growled lowly. He was stuck watching the witch and she prated on about Roxas, Roxas, Roxas. It was enough to nearly make him lose his mind. He watched as she stood from her chair and stretched cat like arching her back a little, her short dress sliding even further up her thighs. She'd forgotten he was there. He'd change that.

She'd finally stretched out, her aching back felt so much better but as she strode over to the chair she felt something fly at her fast, a flash of pink. And then she was pressed firmly against a wall. She wanted to scream but she couldn't find her voice she was too in shock. Then she found herself on the floor when had she gotten there? And he sat on top of her pinning her to the floor one hand restraining both of hers and she felt the other hand sliding up under her dress, slowly up her leg traveling up her leg, up the soft delicate skin of her inner thigh and her voice refused to come and tears came to her eyes as she struggled to scream, beg, plead, anything! But she remained speechless in her terror and fear he wouldn't really, he couldn't, would he?

He pulled down his zipper and her undies as she tried to resist she tried pushing him away as he straddled her, his eyes going hazy with lust and desire, she squirmed trying to get away, she felt something pressing insistently against her leg and she looked down and gulped, this was not good, and he had her firmly pinned. Her voice finally came out barely, just enough for an almost indiscernible whisper, "Please don't." she begged, her eyes pleading. But he ignored her. He didn't have a heart after all. She continued to struggle and then he began… biting her? What was he doing? She panicked but her struggles and squirming only served to make him more aroused and served as no use. And then he was inside her and so big and so ferocious and hard in his lust and she was so small and so young and so soft and she hurt and found her voice and screamed and he clamped his mouth down on hers so hard she felt blood in her mouth just to shut her up.

But he couldn't keep her shut up forever and she screamed again because the pain was so intense and this was so wrong, wrong, WRONG. And there was nothing she could do and no one came because no one cared because the only ones who might have given a damn were gone on a mission. And he was still on top of her burning up from body heat and she just wanted it to end. And it finally did. He stared at her as she lay on the floor the red, red, red seeping onto the white marble floor tainting it. And if he felt anything he would probably have felt regret, but he didn't feel anything so he stared at the girl bleeding on the floor, saying nothing, and then left. She remained unmoving, a crying mess, she couldn't even remember when the crying began anymore.

She laid there she didn't know for how long until she finally got up. She regretted it instantly as pain shot up her body in waves. She looked at her dress it was stained too, as tainted as she now felt. She would have to burn it. She hated the white surrounding her; now it seemed to mock her as she slowly and painfully hobbled her way over to her nightstand taking the dress, cutting it up, and burning it, piece by piece, without thinking. She was still numb and she didn't want to think about it. Maybe if she ignored it… it would go away. Maybe if she tried hard enough it would go away, maybe this was all some twisted dream she could wake up from. But it wasn't it was reality, a reality from which she couldn't escape as he came back again and again. And there was nothing she could do. Eventually her hope died and she was left an empty shell.

But then he began playing a new game with her, one which he seemed to take more cruel amusement in. He would come near her, uncomfortably near, near enough that she could feel him next to her and sometimes he would bend over to her and whisper in her ear things to make her bend and break to discourage her. Other times he would just barely brush against her skin ever so slightly watching as she struggled to maintain her composure to keep calm, but he could still see her body stiffen. "I hate you!" she passionately whispered one day with all the disgust she could muster behind her words.

He only chuckled. "I don't care what you think about me. And either way you can't get me out of your head. I am the figure of your nightmares and waking fears, am I right?" she glared at him not replying. "Well that's how life is sweetheart." She wanted to spit at him but didn't dare. She didn't think he could do anything more to her than he had already, he'd taken everything as it was, but she couldn't risk it. He would only beat her down even more thoroughly. She was already broken but he would shatter her if he felt the need to.

But she looked at the boy before her who was suffering from the same thing, he wouldn't look at her, wouldn't acknowledge her presence, wouldn't react to anything, just looked down in shame as she healed him because Laxene was just as harsh on her toys as Marluxia was. 'Sadistic bastards!' she thought bitterly, but it did no good what she thought, it didn't change a thing. So, when she had finally done healing him, she couldn't resist, she hugged the poor boy who didn't deserve this, who had been dragged into this, and she broke down crying. For both of them. They were both broken, fragments of what they might have been. And as she clung to him her tears running down her cheeks and his shirt he cried too finally coming out of his numbness. They were both damaged and tossed aside like trash. They both were desperately in need of healing.

He was her knight. Not the one who was coming now to rescue her under the delusion she was someone and something she was not. He was not a knight in shining armor, she knew that. No, he was too human for that. She nearly laughed at that word: human, that was what both of them wanted to be and couldn't be. The thing which eluded them both. But yet he still fought for her and with her. He tried his best to become her knight; he was the thing which kept her sane in this miserable place. And yet he was a 'fake' and tormented for it. The real truth was that he was everything to her now; if she lost him everything would crumble and dissolve.

With him she didn't need that façade she showed to the others: to those who knew and whispered and to those two still there who didn't know and who she would never tell. For Marluxia had warned her, "If you try to tell them they'll see you for the little slut you are and having nothing to do with you. Especially Roxas. No one wants used goods." At first she'd tried to argue and protest and fight back saying she wasn't worthless. But that only made it worse he repeated those words more and became more brutal in his advances until she believed it herself. He'd threatened, humiliated, and defeated her, brainwashing her until she believed everything. She'd been through hell. A hell she still lived in.

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A/N: Riku replicaxNamine in case you couldn't tell who the boy was. at this point this is a oneshot but i might do more chapters about healing together because it is extremely angsty the way it ends... or i might make it into a full tragedy. i'm more inclined to the latter actually. quite different from most of my other pieces. well in some ways. r&r. corrections and concrit are good. thx.

so should i do more chapters y/n?