A Shadow in Passing
AN: Mwahahaha. More lovely angst. As if you couldn't guess. This fanfiction... Has raged out of control. And you know why? It's a chapter fic, and it's finished. Amazing, is it not? And it's not even a drabble chapter fic like the Plushie!!! It's a REAL chapter fic!! Mwahahaha!!! There are six chapters... Although there might be 7, if you people bribe me with enough reviews. Much thanks goes to the lovely SlvrSoleAlchmst1, my beta, who should know better than to tell me that being thanked in the author's notes embarasses her. OH! And just because... Yes or no? There is no question. Just answer.
"I love you."
Your mouth moved. Words came out. The air vibrated, sending those words to my ear. I heard. My ear translated those vibrations into sounds, and my brain turned those into words. It gave them meaning. It put significance to them. It made them important.
Even if they weren't.
I heard what you were saying, and I assumed, in all my endless naiveté, that because you were saying it, you meant it. I could not believe that you would lie, because I could not have lied. I could never have lied. I simply can't. And so I heard, and I understood, and I believed.
So when you kissed me, I made it as proof that you loved me, and I allowed you to take me farther than I had ever gone. I allowed you to stick your tongue in my mouth, even though it was disgusting and I hated it, because you loved me. I allowed you to rip my shirt off, quite literally, even though it was my favourite shirt and it hurt to have you pull on it so hard. I allowed you to see the scrawny, bone-thin fire-scared body I had never let anyone see before. I allowed you to touch it. Touch me. Trace the faded lines of pain across my chest.
Because you loved me.
I let you shove me back onto the bed, yanking off your own shirt even as I fell. You came down on top of me, pinned me down and pushed me into the mattress and all your weight was on me and it was so hard to breath but I let you do it anyways. I let you crush every limb, every organ, every cell of my being until all that was left of me was what you had taken into yourself. You took me and made me from a person into little more than another limb, an extension of yourself. I let you make me into nothing.
Because you loved me.
You shoved your hand down my pants, not even bothering to undo the buttons before you were ripping them up too. You effectively destroyed my entire wardrobe without even a moment's thought. And I let you. You seemed to know what you were doing, so I just sat back and let you do your thing. Your hands were everywhere, tracing up and down my sides and over my chest and between my legs and it was like the fire, like I was on fire again and you were the flames and you were consuming me just like you had before. Only it wasn't you. It was fire and gasoline and the laughter of the sadistic bastard I called 'Daddy'. And I screamed and shoved you off and you were yelling too, 'what's the matter, what's the matter, what the FUCK is wrong with you?!'
And I was six years old, curled up in the corner and he's saying the exact same thing.
'What the FUCK is wrong with you? What the FUCK kind of six year old can do multiplication in his head?'
'It's not multiplication.' I say, because I don't know any better. 'It's calculus. Can't you tell the difference?'
And then he doesn't say anything else. He doesn't have to. His eyes and the leather belt in his hand say more than enough.
You've found those scars now too. You've got your arms around me, hugging me to your chest, and your fingers are tracing them down my back. You've seen my back now, I realize. Can you ever think of me the same again, after seeing something like that? After seeing my sins etched out in dead tissue on skin too pale to be natural? I don't want you to look. I don't want you to touch. I don't want you to know.
But I let you.
Because you loved me.
You want an explanation, I know. You want to know why I whimper at your touch, why I flinch away, why I cry when you get too close. But I don't want to tell you, because if I told you, then I couldn't hide it anymore. Then everyone will see. You understand. You have things you don't want everyone to know too. You have hurt that you never let show. Just like I do. We're the same, you and I. I'm the dark, and you're the light.
I'm so clever.
And then I've stopped crying and you're hands are on me again and you're touching me in all the places only one person has ever touched and that wasn't even me. But this time I'm not scared. This time I know I'm not going to get hurt. This time I know that the fire will only warm, not burn. I know, because we're the same, and I would never hurt you.
It feels good. Different than sugar and cake, different than winning. But good. And then great. And then so horrendously agreeable that I can barely comprehend it. You're inside me, suddenly, thrusting and twisting and I wonder silently to myself, when did that happen? But then it doesn't matter because you're hitting something inside and you're hand is on me and nothing has ever been so overwhelmingly good as this.
And then you're kissing me, and saying my name without even bothering to stop, so my own name is in my mouth and I'm hearing it almost like I'm the one saying it.
And then something snaps inside and everything is nothing. Not dark. Not light. Just endless nothing, where everything's been cancelled out and there isn't anything to think about at all.
And for once, I stop. For once, I let my mind go blank. For once, I can dream without having nightmares of flames and laughter and the smell of gasoline. For once, I am at peace within my own head.
And then you wake me up.
"Come on. I wanna get in another round before the others show up."
And your hand is between my legs again, and you're on top of me again, and you're getting ready to be inside me again and I still haven't figured out what happened the first time around, and I want to stop and ask you but you're already hard and, I realize, so am I.
And then you're fucking me, using the leftovers of an orgasm I hadn't even realized you'd had to ease your way, and I let you.
I let you.
Because you said you loved me, and that has to count for something.
Even if you lied.