Chapter 2-Healing.

Taylor:

The person lying on the bed used to resemble my boss. Red, painful welts cover the entirety of his back, and I hear his sniffles coming from the other room.

Christian has been bleeding off and on for the past two days. Every time he moved, a cane welt will split open, staining the white sheets with streaks of blood.

Christian has also been crying. Several times, I had heard his heart-wrenching sobs and saw him hugging Ana's old pillow.

He has refused all of Gail's care. Every time she would approach him, he would knock off her tray of food and throw the dishes until the pieces smashed against the wall.

I haven't allowed him to go see that vile bitch or Jose. It's ridiculous how I need to hire extra security to keep him from hurting himself. Even last night, he tried to sneak off, yet again.

I know this is his way of coping with pain, but I simply can't allow him to cane himself into oblivion.

He's crying again. I go and check on him. In front of me is a shell of a man. His muscles have lost their previous strength, and his once shiny skin looks dry and scratchy.

Oh Ana, Why did you have to leave?

Ana:

It has been six days since I've lost him.

Six

I come home from work, shrugging off my jacket and kicking off my shoes. I curl myself under the blankets and cry.

It's what I've been doing for the past six days.

Crying.

My doorbell rings.

Not wanting anyone to see the emotional wreck I am, I let it ring, pretending no one's home.

It rings again.

Still, I ignore it.

Yet, it continues ringing.

After the tenth ring, I decide it's pointless. I get up, dabbing my eyes with tissues and securing a warm sweater around me before answering the door.

Taylor.

"Ms. Steele." He nods at me, rain dripping from his clothes.

"Taylor? Taylor? My gosh, what are you doing here? Please, come in." I say. He gives me a sad smile and nod. "It's nice to you see again, Ana."

"It's pouring outside, what are you doing here?" I ask.

Taylor's eyes crinkle at the corners. "I came here because of Christian, mam." He replies politely.

My heart stops.

"Something happened to Christian?" I ask. The cup in my hand drops and shatters.

Taylor immediately bends down and helps me pick up the glass shards. "No, no, not like that. I mean he's not dead or anything. It's just…I think he really misses you..."

My forehead creases as I wrinkle my eyebrows. "Wait, what do you mean? He said if I ever walked out, our arrangement would be over. And well, I walked out."

Taylor sighs, burying his head in his hands. "Normally, mam, that's the case. Christian never chased after any of his submissives. But Ana, you weren't his sub. I think he loved you. I have, never in all my years of working with him, seen him treat any sub the way he treats you. I don't want to force you into any type of relationship you don't want. I understand why you left. Truly, I do. But Ana, Christian needs you. He had someone cane him…and he…"

"wait…What?" I squeak.

Did he just say Christian had someone cane him?

Taylor nods solemnly. "Yes, he's in really bad condition; I can hardly recognize my old boss. Please, I'm not asking you to be his sub or girlfriend, I just want you to go visit him. I think he really needs you."

Taylor doesn't need to say any more, I'm already up.

I don't bother changing into something nice, or trying to fix my appearance; I grab my purse and keys as Taylor ushers me to his waiting car.

The car ride is silent but not uncomfortable. I stare out at the rainy city, pedestrians hurrying along the sidewalks and bumping into each other. I wonder if any of them are heart-broken, if any of them love someone that can't love them back, if any of them are going to see a broken, megalomaniac CEO.

We pull into Escala, the building is exactly the way I remembered with its towering windows and chilling exterior. Taylor holds my door, and I give him a smile in which he returns with a nod.

I fidget as the elevator whisks up us, hastily tucking my hair behind my ears. There's really not much I can do to make myself look presentable.

The door dings, and Taylor gives me a sad look, leading me to Christian's room.

"He hasn't gotten out of bed for the past few days." Taylor sadly explains, cracking the door open and gesturing me in.

I take a deep breath, "Christian?" I squeak.

Christian's curled in fetal position, his arms tightly wrapped around a pillow.

My pillow.

He has a white sheet draped over him, and in the dark, I make out the traces of blood.

"Christian?" I squeak again, venturing further into the room. The blinds are drawn, and I can barely see his lone shadow.

I flick on the lights, and his head shoots up. For the first time, I see the red rims around his puffy, grey eyes.

He has been crying.

"Ana." He gasps, sitting up and causing the light, white sheet to fall off his shoulders.

My hands fly up to cover my mouth.

His back, it is completely covered in cane welts, some old and fresh. They crisscross over his shoulders and down his waist, layering over one another. Blisters form all around the fresh welts, and some are oozing blood. Parts of his back are bruised, turning the once healthy-looking skin into ugly shades of purple and blue.

Oh, my fifty.

"Christian…" I say gently, softly, approaching him like a hurt puppy.

He grabs the sheet and wraps it around himself. I can see his body shaking as tears drip down his cheeks, and my own tears begin to fall.

"Ana…" he murmurs and he is visibly crying now.

"Christian." I whisper, and before he can react, envelope him in a hug.

I run my hands through his greasy, copper hair, and kiss his temple. I know I shouldn't, but seeing him like this. It's too much.

"Ana." He sobs, breaking down in my arms. He's hiccupping and sniffling at the same time. "I…I…never…I never…meant to…hurt….you…." He tries to speak through sobs.

"Shhhh, Shhh, I know. I know, it's ok. Everything's going to be alright." I calm.

He fists his hands in my shirt, and I feel his snot, mixed with tears, smear on my skin. He's hugging me so tight that I'm worried my rib-cage might break.

"Shhh…it's ok…I know." I continue to calm as he sniffles. He buries his head in the crook of my neck and pulls me towards him.

His tears soak through the woolen fabric of my sweater, and I see my own tears rolling down his back marred with all the hideous cane welts.

I don't know how much time has passed, but I just hold him in my arms, resting my chin on his head, and with every second that passes, I feel the pieces in my heart begin to put themselves together.

He eventually cries himself out and lays limp in my arms, head still buried in my hair. I don't think I've ever seen someone cry this hard, but I just hold him, for as long as he needs me.

"Christian, baby, can you look at me?" I finally ask. He immediately gazes up, furiously rubbing his misty eyes with the back of his hands.

He really is a lost, little puppy.

I run my hands down his cheek. "Why? Why would you do this to yourself?" I ask, helping him wipe away an escaped tear.

He gives a shameful, little shrug. "I needed something to forget about you." He confesses.

My heart breaks, physically breaks, and clenches.

"Oh baby." I whisper, bringing him into another hug and kissing his forehead.

We lay like that, with him curled in my arms, our limbs a jumbled mess.

Why? Why? Why? Why did my fifty have to hurt himself?

I begin to lay down, slowly moving us so he's still nestled in my arms. For a long time, I just stroke his hair and whisper soft things, watching his sniffles die down.

He occasionally leans over and wipes away one of my tears as well.

"Don't cry for me, Ana. I don't deserve it." He murmurs.

More of my tears well up. "How do you expect me to not to cry. Christian, your back…"

"I know. Shhh….I know." He whispers, wrapping me tightly in his embrace. "Don't worry about my back. I'm more concerned about you. Ana, you lost weight; you know how I feel about you eating." He gently rebukes, his voice taking on that natural parent tone.

I try my best frown. "Christian, really, you have no right to scold me when you're in this condition. Yes, I lost weight, but at least I'm not the one that has cane welts all over their back." I chide.

A ghost of smile crosses Christian's lips. "Oh, how I missed your smart mouth, Ms. Steele."

I shake my head. "Christian, this is not a joking matter. Now, I'm going to get some supplies to help clean your wounds."

Christian pouts, actually pouts, his bottom lip sticking out in the most adorable way. "Ana, you don't have to take care of me. All I want to do is hold you for a little while longer. Please, my back will heal itself, just give it two more days."

Despite his tight grip on me, I wiggle out. "No, Christian. You need to have all of your cuts cleaned, so unless you want to explain an infection to your mother, I suggest you tell me where you put the arnica cream."

Christian lifts a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, and I challenge him back with my own eyebrow raise, crossing my arms and showing him that I'm not backing down on this matter.

Christian's face finally breaks out into his panty-dropping smile. "Top left drawer in the Playroom cabinet."

I nod, taking a deep breath and scurrying out.

The playroom, I've been here a number of times. The last time was the worst. If I close my eyes, I can still feel the ten lashes of the belt cutting across my skin.

No, Ana! You're not his sub! You're not even his girlfriend. Do you need another lesson with the belt to teach you not to get your heart broken?" My unhelpful subconscious pipes in.

Deciding that she is wrong, I stomp her down and push open the playroom door.

I gulp as four bare, red wall greets me. All the canes, whips, and paddles are gone, leaving a room full of vacant racks. The room looks…different…kind of empty.

I don't have time to ponder over this as I hurry to the cabinet. And true to his word, the arnica cream's in the top left drawer.

After closing the playroom door, I advance to the bathroom, finding some alcohol and gauze, as well as a bucket of cool water and towel.

Christian's lying in the exact same spot and position I left him in. I shudder, once again, at the sight of his back.

No wonder he passed out.

He turns his head slightly to look at me, and when he sees the bottle of alcohol in my hands, he makes another pouty face. "Aww…please." He begs.

I pretend to ignore him as I set everything down. "No, Christian. I'm sorry, but I need to disinfect the bleeding parts."

Christian keeps his bottom lip poked out while giving me his best puppy dog eyes. I bend over and kiss my favorite spot on his forehead, making his face light up. "Now, stay still so this will be quicker."

Christian does really well, keeping very still as I dab alcohol and water on his back, only occasionally hissing and grabbing the sheets.

I clean all of his cuts and blisters, as well as drying and putting gauze over them.

After finishing his back, I move down to his butt.

I mean, what other choice did I have?

I carefully lift up his boxer and clean his welts, trying my best to ignore his dick and testicles.

Suddenly, my hand drops the alcohol wipe as I noticed something.

There was an obvious tent in Christian's pants, and his boxers were doing nothing to help conceal it. I can see the back of his dick standing straight up in attention from my angle.

I look down and back at my hands again.

Shit, how do I navigate this?

Christian turns around, with much effort, and places his hands over his boner. He gives me a dashing yet shy smile.

"Christian…"

Before I can finish my sentence, Christian shushes me with his fingers. "Shh, Ana, don't worry. I'll take care of it. But honestly, you already know what your touch does to me, so this shouldn't be a surprise." he coos.

I must have blushed fifty shades of scarlet right there and then, trying to hide my face. Christian chuckles, tapping me on the nose. "You're so cute when you blush." He teases which makes me blush even harder.

Christian shoos me out of his rooms for five minutes to take care of his not so little problem, and I huff in indignation.

"I don't mind you staying and watching, sweetheart, but I don't think you'll appreciate that, so shoo." Christian continues to merciless tease me, and I feel my heart melt at his playfulness.

After 5 minutes, I come back in and finish cleaning the rest of Christian's welts. When I'm all done, I persuade him into taking some pain-killers as well.

I can tell Christian's getting tired, he's yawning and having a hard time keeping his eyes open. He must've not slept well judging by the heavy bags underneath his eyes.

I go and change his sheets, grabbing a warmer comforter as well, and drape it over him.

"Sleep, Christian." I softly order, running my fingers along his stubbles.

He yawns again. "No, Ana, I don't want to go to sleep…we still need to talk." He mumbles.

I smile, kissing his forehead. "We'll talk tomorrow; Don't worry, I'm staying right here. For now though, just sleep." I say and kiss him once more.

"No…I don't want to sleep…I want to hold you…" Christian whines like a petulant child.

I brush away his matted, copper hair. "Shhh…I'll be right across the hall in the guest room if you need me."

I watch Christian's droopy eyelids drift shut and when I think he's completely asleep, I try to move as quietly as possible off of his bead. Suddenly, I feel Christian's fingers gently wrap around my wrist.

"No, Ana, please stay with me, please." He begs.

Looking at him, my fifty, so vulnerable and lost, I can't help but crawl back on the bed. I know I shouldn't, but something tells me he needs me, and Christian has always been there for me, whether it was for my job or something else or simply because I needed a hug. And now, it was time for me to be there for him.

I gingerly curl up next to Christian, and I feel him pull me close to him while murmuring. "Sleep, baby." And just like that, I'm out.

A/N-Please leave a review if you have a second. They always make my day! Much love, Lauren.