Piece By Piece
Summary: AU. Instead of falling into the library, Add remains a slave. Years later, the El Search Party stumbles upon a lost, broken boy who is slowly falling into insanity. Involves triggers; please read warnings before continuing!
If you ask me to write slave aus the answer will always be yes
Requested by a friend, and finally delivering! Enjoy c:
Oneshot for now, may write more if I feel inspired!
Warning: Triggers for abuse, rape, and depressed/suicidal thoughts.
Edit: I just realised that the warning may not be right for this. What do you guys think? Should I bump it up to a M, or leave it as it is?
Branches flickered across his arms, cutting shallow scratches into his skin. Leaves flew across his vision, impairing his sight as he tore through the forest. Panting harshly, he ran, his feet pounding hard into the dirt. He clutched at his shoulder, where a seeping wound slowly bled, the crimson flowing like a waterfall across his fingers. His body tainted bloody red, he left horrible marks on the trees he had passed.
Clues. Hints to help them find him.
He could hear the whining of horses echoing through his ears, the shouts of men as they urged their steeds on. The yells, requests to bring him back and flay him slowly, piece by piece until he learnt his place.
The boy let out a choked sob, a horrid noise that stuck in his throat. No. No. He wasn't going back, he couldn't go back—the bruises that littered his body, the pain that ached in his lower body...it was too much to bear. He would kill himself before he could go back.
With that thought resounding in his mind, he once again picked up his desperate rush through the forest. He was close, so close! He could see it up ahead; the moon's light finally breaking through the barrier of branches, illuminating a clear field. Surely, he would find salvation there. Certainly, he would be granted freedom once he reached the holy lands.
He tears through the last of the branches with what little strength remains in his limbs, and stumbles into the open with a sigh of relief. Finally, he was safe.
Blinded by the sudden clarity of his situation, he takes a few steps forward. Just as he wants to reach out and embrace the grass, the land, the feeling of being a free man, he bumps into a person.
"What?"
Instantly, his mind goes into overdrive. They found me. They have me. This can't be happening. No, no, no, nononono—
The person which he had almost stepped on stands and stretches. It is a young male, with hair the colour of the burning crimson sun. No, hair the colour of blood.
He has never seen this person before. But he knows that the other male is a threat, that he will hurt him just like everyone else.
The boy begins to back up, terror written clear across his features. No, no, no.
"Hey," the male looks concerned. He reaches forwards and grabs the boy's shaking wrists. "Are you okay? What happened?"
The scream dies in his throat. The boy's eyes flicker down to the male's hand, a firm grip on his arm that will not relent no matter how much he pulls.
"I'm Elsword." Elsword introduces himself. "Who are you?"
Elsword. Elsword will hurt me. Elsword will hit me like they've hit me, he'll give me back to them and they'll whip me and flay me and fuck me—
He's shaking so hard that Elsword grows concerned. "Really, are you okay? My teammates are nearby, they can help."
He tries to scream, but all that comes out is a pathetic whining sound. He keeps his eyes glued to the floor. Don't look up, never look up, the last time you looked up they knocked teeth loose—
When Elsword gives him a gentle tug, he stumbles. And then he flinches, because he is not supposed to stumble—but what use is it now? Elsword has him captured, and soon he will be back with his masters. And the things they'll do...
He begs. Silently in his mind, a prayer that Elsword will kill him here and now.
"Rena!" He hears the blood-haired male call. "Raven! I found something!"
There are others. The boy's head spins with reality.
"Aisha, come look at this—"
He falls to his knees, lying on the ground. In surprise, Elsword lets him go. However, the slave boy does not run. He knows, he understands now that he cannot outrun this person—these people in his weakened state. He is condemned to his fate, to whatever torture awaits him, just like he has always been and always will.
He shuffles forwards, keeping his head down.
"Please," he manages. It is an ugly word, one so many times repeated. His voice is hoarse and dehydrated. "I'm sorry. Please." He repeats the only words he can. "I'm sorry."
"Look up."
When he does, his eyes are so filled with tears he can barely notice the ones streaking down the Lord Knight's face.
Someone has draped a blanket across his shaking form. He does not sleep at all during the night, too hungry and too afraid for what is to come. The next day, Elsword comes again, this time with a pretty lady in tow.
He does not like pretty ladies. They spit on him, crush his bones under their fancy heels.
"Hi," Elsword awkwardly greets. "This is Ara."
Ara, the girl with the raven hair. Black, like the darkness that embalms his cell.
The slave keeps his eyes firmly fixed on the blanket. Gripping it with all his might, he swallows harshly. He can feel Ara looking at him, piercing him with her glance.
"Maybe he's one of the villagers," she finally assesses.
He feels his throat clench up. The village.
"We should return him, then," an unknown voice calls from somewhere far away.
He feels faint. No. No. Whatever these strange people have in store for him cannot possibly be worse than the pain he will endure if he returns.
"Let's go, then." He hears someone get up. "No use hanging around here."
"Raven!" Ara snaps, and the boy flinches out of instinct. Turning back to him, Ara is gentle. "Don't worry. We'll take you back and see what's wrong, okay?"
He thinks that everything is wrong. He thinks that his existence is a mistake.
They feed him before they get ready to go. Stew, leftovers from yesterday's dinner. Rena, the lady to give it to him, explains with a gentle smile that they don't have any way of warming it and it was a quick construction, made of only the herbs they could find and a rabbit Aisha burnt.
He thinks it's the best thing he's ever had. And it should be, considering he's survived thus far only on scraps and food meant for the dogs.
"You're thin," Rena murmurs as she watches him eat. He ignores her comment because the soup is simply too delicious. It's gone within a matter of minutes, and although Rena offers to give him seconds, he refuses. His belly is already bursting full and it would be rude. Though these people are very nice, he knows it's only a matter of time before they lose their temper with him.
The walk to the village is brief, all too short. It is only Ara and Elsword coming along, as they decided it was better for only a few people to go to prevent suspicion. On the walk, Ara and Elsword attempt to create conversation.
"What's your name?" Ara asks gently, though Elsword shakes his head as if it's useless. The slave looks at Ara with wide eyes, then at Elsword, then back to Ara. Both encourage him to speak with nods of their heads and wide smiles.
He has not seen smiles this pure. Slowly, he speaks. "Add." The word feels strange on his tongue, something he has never had to say before. Usually, it was his masters that did all of the speaking.
"Add," Ara repeats. "It's very nice to meet you!"
He gives a timid nod, that one word already taken up all his courage.
When they lapse into another silence, he is both thankful and wary. Ara and Elsword are complete strangers—he cannot read them as he can sometimes his tormentors. Not being able to know both stressed him and relieved him.
They reach the village too soon, and as soon as steps foot into the area he blanches. His hands are shaking so hard it's a wonder he can still keep him at his side instead of despairingly wringing them together.
Ara notices this and purses her lips. They watch as Elsword looks around for anyone they can ask about Add's belongings.
"Add!"
And the blood instantly freezes up in his body, his hands trembling too much—he can't control them anymore. They twist the hem of his worn out shirt, again and again in an attempt to calm his frayed nerves.
It doesn't work. He watches, immobilized, as Elsword goes up to his master and exchanges a few words. He watches as his worst nightmare chats and laughs like any normal man, and then he catches in on the conversation.
"So who is Add to you?" Elsword asks.
There is a certain glint in his master's eyes. "He is the child of my sister."
Lies. Lies.
"Really?" Elsword smiles. "He seems rather...afraid."
His master nods. "His family lived here a while ago; unfortunately, they were all wiped out by bandits. He still has nightmares of that and is wary of anyone new. I'm trying to get him to become friendlier, but it's a working process." A guffaw.
Elsword gives a polite laugh of his own, before retreating back to Ara and Add. "What do you think?" he asks Ara.
The female purses her lips. "What about what he said when you found him?" She doesn't look convinced.
"But he did say that the bandits..." Elsword is beginning to grow doubtful as well.
"Should we ask him?" Ara turns towards him with a gentle smile, and Add freezes up.
Deep down, he knows. He cannot betray his master. Not only would he get himself in trouble, he does not want Ara or Elsword to be hurt. He cannot drag them into his world.
"I..." His tongue feels swollen and clumsy. He glances at his master, and one stern look from the man is enough to make him quiver. "That's right," he says.
Ara still looks doubtful, though she gives her best smile and pushes him forwards. "Well, I'm glad you were able to find your family," she laughs. "I'll see you around, right?"
Add gives a small nod. No, he thinks. After this night, I will surely be dead.
Elsword is next to leave. To Add's surprise, the crimson-haired male pulls him into a firm embrace. "Be careful," is all the knight whispers before he depletes, trailing after Ara as the two make their way down the makeshift road.
Come back, Add wants to scream. He wants to run after them, to follow them on their path to freedom, to adventure.
A harsh grip on his shoulder brings him back to reality. His master smiles down at him ominously.
"Now, Add," he says. "Where were we?"
A boot slams into his side, rolling him onto his back. Add bites back a scream as the boot moves again, kicking him in the stomach. The contents of his breakfast—his first breakfast in god knows how long—threaten to spill over, but he holds it in as bile rises in his throat.
He cannot stop himself from screaming wretchedly as the steel iron boot steps down on his wrist, crushing the dainty bones under the immense pressure. There are so many attackers, and from all around. He can't, doesn't want to process what's happening, and so he squeezes his eyes tight and hopes to live.
Someone plants a firm hand in his hair and jerks him up, and Add splutters just as a stinging backhand leaves a firm mark on his cheek. His neck is cracked to the side as another slap comes, this time leaving his ears ringing. He can't even scream as something closes around his neck, and squeezes hard.
And then he's gasping—pleading—because he can't breathe and he can't live and he can't think—
Air, blissful air rushes into his lungs as he's released, collapsing onto the ground in a broken, still lump.
I'm alive, he thinks to himself. I'm still alive. Sucks in desperate small breaths through his nose and mouth. Briefly, he thinks back to this morning, to events that seemed like a mere fairytale.
Then one of the men abusing him grabs him by the hips and Add wants to die.
prepares self for onslaught of fangirls
