Disclaimer: Degrassi isn't mine. If it was Eli and Clare would have been together day one, and Owen/Fitz would be canon.

Some way to post my 100th story, huh? This was written because...my friend wanted me to. The idea popped up, I told her, and she convinced me to write it. This story is horrible. Includes rape (my poor Clare...) multiple times, heartbreak, videotaping and voyeurism. Though it is in no way explicit. But it will be rated M anyway, for safety, considering it mentions rape and Eli's got a foul mouth on him.


SOMETHING DIABOLICAL

I know from enough people that getting word from Bianca DeSousa isn't exactly what you should believe, but this was screaming at me to go, to listen, to be there as fast as my slowly dying hearse can take me. I was scared, more than I'll ever admit, but I needed to see for myself. I needed to make sure she was alright. Clare...

"Hey," Bianca said from her spot against Morty and I fought the urge to groan, Now I'll have to wipe the slut from him, and made my way over to her. She didn't move, only kept speaking. "Your girl Clarinda-"

"Clare," I corrected, then wondered what she wanted with Clare in the first place.

"Whatever," she said, then blew a bubble with the gum in her mouth, and popped it with the most sickening, ominous echo I'd ever heard. "She's...exposed." My heart stopped pumping and I felt my stomach turn. What did that mean? I couldn't even say it, I was frozen. She shrugged, her whorish grin playing on her features the way she does with boys. "O and F got her, if you care," she said, clearly bored. Another pop.

O and F? Who the hell was she talking about?

"I'm sparing you the details, because I'd like for you to see for yourself, but" - if she pops her goddamn gum one more time I might make her the next coffin-bound passenger in Morty - "just know you won't be able to stop them. You're half their size." She finally pushed herself off Morty and handed me a folded piece of paper. Before I could get a word in or even think what just happened, she was halfway through the parking lot, hands in her pockets.

And then I realized...half my size? Owen and Fitz. Fuck.

Morty's speedometer twitches when you go past 65- yeah, he's that old- and here I am, pushing 85 in hopes of getting to this address as fast as I can. I am completely mortified(1), scared to death(2) at what I'll find. She's...exposed. Exposed. Clare is...exposed. So many possible meanings pop up in my head, but only one lasts, one sticks out the most.

Clare. My Clare. Naked. In the same room as Owen Milligan and Mark fucking Fitzgerald. Morty couldn't get me there faster if the hounds of hell were on my tail.


Third floor, elevator busted. Of course this would be my luck. 16C was the room I was looking for. The walls here were a pale green and busted, you could see the drywall where paint had chipped off and the walls were decaying. Of all the places to take Clare...

Now wasn't the time to think about that; 6C, 8C, 10C, 12...

There it was. 16C. My heartrate sped up and I caught my breath for a moment before grasping the handle. Locked. I groaned and knocked, causing a piece of he wood door to chip off. I rolled my eyes and knocked again, harder, no answer. But I heard the ruffling of clothing, and a quiet but noticeable whine. Clare. I pounded the door ruthlessly until it finally opened. Fitz stood before me, a disgusting smirk twisted across his lips.

"Well if it isn't E-liiii," he drawled, smirk never faltering. I wasn't amused.

"Fitz," I said, voice cold, "where is Clare?"

I heard another whine and saw to his left...Clare. I moved to pass him, but his hands grabbed my shoulders and held be back. "No, I think you should wait. You need to be seated before the show can begin."

"Wha-" I was cut off as I got shoved back and what I assume was a fist got knocked into my stomach and I toppled over, vaguely remembering the two blurry bodies looming over me when I blacked out.


I woke up, delirious, with a horrible pain in my stomach. I groaned and went to move my hands to see if there was a bruise but found myself unable. I opened my eyes and was momentarily blinded by the brightness of this room; the light bounced off the yellow walls painfully and it hurt to look. But when I eyes finally focused the first thing I noticed was Clare, my beautiful Clare, tied to a bed, almost completely nude. Exposed. Her face was shimmering in the light, tearstains running along her cheeks now red. I tried to move but it was no use.

"Clare," I whispered, thanking whatever God there was that my mouth wasn't taped shut. "Clare, wake up, please," my voice got a little louder and her eyes opened, intense blue searching my face.

"Eli!" she hissed, her voice was rough. "Thank God, I was so scared you weren't going to wake up, you-"

"Aww, isn't this cute?" I'm sure both of our blood froze in our vains at the sound of that voice. Fitz. Fuck, this guy disgusted me. "Don't worry, Eli," he taunted and he fought the urge to spit at him. "You'll be in the movie, too. But only a few cameos..."

"Movie?" I asked, confused. As if on cue, in walks Bianca, video camera in hand and gum popping in her mouth. She's disgusting, too.

"Yep," a different voice said- Owen, I was sure- with a pop at the 'p'. "And little Miss Edwards here," his calloused fingers touched her cheek and wiped away a few years, making her flinch and try to move away. I groaned and tried to break out of this chair. "Is our leading actress. Isn't that great, Goldsworthy? Your girlfriend is going to be famous..."

"You fucking-" Fitz cut me off by grabbing my hair. Shit, I forgot about him.

"Ah, ah, ah," he said, grinning, "We call all the shots."

"Don't worry, Emo Boy," Owen spoke again and my eyes moved back to where he was looming over Clare. "We'll make sure she gets paid for her services..."

"Motherfucker!" I growled, thrashing in my chair and Fitz got behind me to stop me, hands planted firmly on my shoulders. "Let me go, assholes. Let her go. Fuck. Keep me, I don't care, just let Clare go."

"Let me think about that for a second..." Fitz was taunting to get a rise out of me, to make me angry, to make me snap...and you know what? It was fucking working. "No," he let out a sickening laugh and I felt like throwing up. "Well Owen, I guess you get her first."

I tried thrashing again, "No!" Fitz pressed harder on my shoulders. I was helpless...and Clare was going to be raped.

"Take One," the bitch in the upper left corner announced and I looked at her, camera in hand, red light on, signifying that it was recording. This was just becoming more of a reality. "Owen Milligan and Clare Edwards, Intimacy."

Tears fell rapidly from the beautiful blue eyes that I fell in love with at first sight and my heart broke right there. "Please," she rasped, shaking her head. "Please don't do this." Every tear she shed, another part of my heart chipped away, disintegrating into the acid in my stomach, the acid that was boiling and almost forcing me to be sick.

"It'll be okay," Owen assured her with minimal sincerity. "I can't promise that I'll be gentle, but" - his hands worked at the front clasp to her bra and I swear to God my heart stopped - "Fitz promises he will, after I've had you."

"Right," Fitz said, and I'm sure I did hear the sincerity there, though it was masked by foul sadism, "I will be gentle, don't you worry."


The next two hours were the most painful I'd had to endure in my entire life. Not even when Julia died did it hurt this much. I didn't watch Julia die, didn't see her get hit by a car. I was too mad to care that she rode off on her bike in the night, by herself. I'd stormed right back in the house and locked my door. I didn't hear about it until the next day, when her mother called me, frantic, saying I'd never see Julia again. I thought it was because I broke her heart...but she meant it in the literal sense; the sense that no one would ever see her again. Because she was dead. And I cried, yes. I was miserable, heartbroken, yes.

But my heart was able to be put back together. The moment I looked into the blue eyes that told me so many stories- the eyes that told me the whisper the wind said to the trees, the key to the universe, the meaning of love- I realized that I could never love anyone more; never love anyone again. Clare Edwards owned that piece of my heart, my soul, and she kept it locked tight in her blue eyes...the very same eyes that opened the window to her soul, and the sweet breeze brought on by the ocean in Spring.

And there she was, bloody, battered, and broken. As Fitz pulled out after his and Owen's second round, each, I heard the whimper pass her lips and I wanted no more than to pull her into my arms and take the pain away.

Her screams hurt me, more than I thought a scream could. Every noise she made pierced my very soul and left an indent inside me- an indent that I wasn't so sure anyone could mend.

"Clare," I whispered and her teary eyes opened and tried to focus on me. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Bianca panned the camera towards me but I couldn't bring myself to care. The only one on my mind was Clare. She mouthed my name but nothing came out; her throat was raw, her voice gone from all the screaming. "Please," I said, voice gaining volume. "Let me go. I need to get to her." I was shaking and she was too. Innocent, perfect, smart, lovely Clare Edwards- my beautiful Blue Eyes- was just raped four times, and videotaped by possibly the three most sickening people in Degrassi. "Please!"

She whimpered when I raised my voice, and cringed away as Fitz grabbed her chin. The camera was back on Clare now. I saw the fear in her eyes, those intense blues so dull now. My words caught in my throat when I tried to tell him not to touch her. "This was fun," Fitz said and placed a soft kiss to her lips. She turned her head away in disgust. "We'll have to try it again sometime."

As he backed away from her I vaguely heard 'Cut!' yelled from the other corner, but I was too focused on the shivering, pale body in the bed. Fitz and Bianca left the room while Owen untied me. I wanted to punch the hell out of him, but Clare was my first priority. As soon as I was free I was at her side, untying her. The door shut behind the asshole football player with a soft 'click' and I pressed my lips to her cheek, her forehead, her temple, her soft, strawberry-scented hair and finally her lips. I kissed her tears away and untied her as gently as I could. Her wrists were bruised from the rope and I kissed each one softly. She whimpered between every kiss I planted.

"Clare," I said, and she flinched. I helped her sit up and felt my heart shatter as more tears fell from her puffy, red eyes. "Clare."

"Eli," she whined, the first coherent word I'd heard in those wretched two hours, "I'm so scared..."

"Shh," I said, so quietly she might not have heard it. "I'll take care of you, I promise." I felt her nod from where her head was rested against my shoulder. Wetness soaked my shirt but I didn't care. I tightened my hold enough to protect her, but loose enough to not hurt her further. "It'll be okay."

She nodded again, and soon, she was asleep in my arms, where I refused to ever let anyone come near her again.


That hurt to write, like, my heart broke. D: Review, hate, something! Just so you know, Clare is my favorite character. When the ideas pop in, they need to be written...

(1) Mortified - hah, Morty.

(2) Death - death, in a hearse. lol.