NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Quite a bit is going to happen here, much of it in Jay's mind. I can't stress this enough...in spite of all the good Bray did for Jay, it still left him with some serious damage, as you will soon see.

DISCLAIMERS: Not my characters, except for Anna and the Pollards as I imagine them. Special thanks to cagematch dot net for their extensive promo database, and another thanks to theytalktome for her Wyatt one-shot series.

Rated T for some F-words sprinkled here and there and violence.

Break Me: Chapter Six

"Have you heard the good news...the earth is rotting beneath your feet...the human race is a bacteria that infects and destroys...He needed me. He needed me! [laughs]...fate works in strange ways...He was lost! ...she dances and sings in the light, she lurks in the shadows and she always gets her way...Now, he has a home. YOUR WORDS MEAN NOTHING TO HIM NOW! He only hears... my truth. Now, he has a home."
- Bray Wyatt, WWE Smackdown, 1/3/14

When six o'clock rolled around, Jay was taking notes while reading through Final Quest and glancing out the living room window every so often. Anna was gone; she'd left for her part time job in a short-bed, magenta colored Ford truck that looked too big for her to drive (it was her daily driver, she'd insisted with a laugh). Earlier, Jay had heard the rumble of another vehicle (probably Jimmy and Frank home from school or their part-time jobs, or whatever it was they were doing).

Jay let himself get acclimated to the noises and sights on the compound, which was why he didn't freak out when he heard a knock on the front door. He'd actually heard Bina singing in a clear, high voice as she walked up to the front porch. "...Studying about those good old days and who shall wear the starry crown? Good Lord, show me the way..."

He got up and opened the door before Bina could knock a second time. A slow smile spread across his face. "Well. Hi, Bina. You look quite lovely tonight."

"It's a special occasion," Bina explained, artlessly. "It's not often that a real live angel comes to dinner. I wanted to look my best." And she looked prim and proper, dressed in a sleeveless periwinkle blue blouse and white capri pants. Her pale blonde hair was put up in a ponytail, and she had on a touch of makeup. "And Momma always tells me, don't forget to be kind to strangers, because because many of us may have been kind to an angel without knowing it."

Jay stepped out onto the porch, closing the front door softly behind him. "Well, I'm not a stranger now, am I?"

"No, but you're an angel." Jay had to chuckle at that. He didn't think he was that angelic, but he wasn't about to argue.

"And I wanted to ask you..." Bina glanced down at her sandaled feet for a moment, and it occurred to Jay that she was trying to get her courage up. He wasn't as patient as Violet was, but he waited as quietly as he could.

Finally, the shy blonde glanced up at Jay, her eyes wide. "Would...would you be so kind as to walk me to my house?"

Jay couldn't stop the grin that tugged across his lips. Bina was quite charming, in her own blunt way. "Well, Miss Bina, I'd love to walk you to your house," he answered back, as Bina slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. The two of them stepped off the porch and walked down the gravel pathway that ran across the Wyatt compound, with Jay escorting Bina the way a proper gentleman should. It was a pleasant walk; the clouds in the horizon were tinted pink by the sun, which was just beginning to set, the air had just enough cool bite to it to remind one that it was still spring, and the distant music of singing birds and buzzing insects provided comfortable background noise.

"See that patch of wild strawberries over there?" Bina asked, pointing off to the distance with a slender finger.

Jay smiled, letting some very pleasant memories play in his head. "I see it. Luke and I picked a lot of strawberries out of that patch."

"That's where Abigail and her baby are buried," Bina said, bluntly.

Jay shuddered. "I've been picking berries where someone's buried? That's kinda creepy." He paused. "So I assume you know all about Sister Abigail, right?"

"It's not like it's a huge secret," Bina shrugged. "We just don't talk about it outside the compound. Bray said that the patch wasn't there before Abigail died. The month after she and the baby were buried, the strawberries suddenly grew there. Almost like they'd appeared out of thin air. And you know something? No matter how many berries you pick out of that patch, it never runs out. It's like they grow back overnight. I kinda think it's Abigail's way of saying I love you."

"Still it's kinda weird that a strawberry patch suddenly appeared where someone's buried."

"Well, if Abigail didn't want you at her gravesite, then there'd be poison ivy or a nest of copperheads or something like that growing there. She wouldn't put strawberries there if she didn't want you visiting her, right?"

Jay had to laugh. "That's actually a good point."

A good distance away from the strawberry patch, perhaps fifty feet or so, stood a rickety-looking building. It was a shed that was an original part of the property. It had once been white, but it was now so weathered that bare wood showed in multiple places. Whatever paint remained was either peeling or almost transparent. There was a white metal door that you slid up to open, but that too looked weathered and beaten as well.

Jay tensed up involuntarily. This was where Bray had dragged him to after he'd mouthed off one time too many. It had been a garage where farming equipment had been stored. The equipment had been sold years ago, leaving plenty of chains and hooks and other assorted contraptions that Bray had put to good use. The building had been a dark, silent place, with no light and a cold concrete floor to which Jay had been chained for hours at a time. It was solitary confinement, interrupted only when Bray measured out his discipline and Erick stood like a silent, sheep-masked sentry to ensure that their captive had no chance to escape.

Compared to that cold, dark, terrifying hell, the house and the shed had been a palace. But deep in his heart, Jay knew that had he not been so defiant and mouthy in the first place, he never would have had to be dragged here...

~~~ANGEL~~~

"Pull up your shirt, Jay."

Jay's breathing was shaky, a side effect of the adrenaline surging through his body. He shook his head and mouthed the word No.

"PULL IT UP!" Bray shouted. "Or else I'll have Erick tear off all of your clothes."

Jay's hands shook so hard, the chains dangling from them actually jingled. They were long enough for Jay to reach up and pull the stained and torn workshirt he wore up so that his bare back was exposed. A faint breeze brought goosebumps to the exposed skin.

"Please," Jay gasped, daring to glance at the Eater Of Worlds. "Don't do this! I'll be good, I promise. I won't run. I'll listen to you, I'll do everything you tell me, please don't hurt me, Bray! I'm sorry-"

"SILENCE!" Bray roared. Jay let out a sob and shut his eyes, hating the hot tears that leaked from his eyes and trailed down his cheeks.

"I can read your intentions like a book, Jay. If I let you go now, you'd pretend to be good for a while, and then mouth off again, maybe run off. And I know exactly what you'd do afterwards, and believe you me, that's the last thing I want to have happen. You have pushed me far enough. You need to realize that actions have consequences. It's time now for you to face the consequences.

Bray's voice softened, and it sounded almost fatherly. "Jay, I don't want to do this to you, but because you've pushed me time and time again, you've left me with no other choice. And I need you to know we're going to punish you. And it's gonna hurt. A lot. But remember this. What I'm about to do to you will hurt me just as much as it'll hurt you. And I don't care if it kills me, I promise I'm going to prove to you that you're just like us. And in that moment of serenity I will take all the pain away, and you'll understand what I've been trying to do for you."

More clinking of chains; before Jay knew it, his arms were now up over his head and secured to a hook that belonged to a heavy duty hoist, the kind used to lift large engines out of tractors and combines and such. He glanced down and noticed that his feet were secured to either side of the hoist on the bottom. With his hands and feet secured and his back exposed, it was easy for Jay to guess what would happen next. The soft sweep of something across his back confirmed his guess. He'd never felt so vulnerable and scared in his life.

"As I said earlier, Jay. Actions have consequences," Bray explained, letting the tip of the leather whip drag across Jay's exposed skin. "And for your disrespect and your selfishness, your punishment will be thirty lashes." He drew closer, his voice softening. "This is for your own good, Jay. I hope you'll understand"

Jay let out a hoarse sob.

He heard the whip before he felt its sting, a high-pitched whistle through the air followed by a sharp, short crack! The end of the whip streaked across Jay's back just deep enough to leave a welt. Jay screamed; the pain was like a sharp lash of fire across his skin, a sensation he'd never wanted to feel in his lifetime, and one he wanted to forget. Jay didn't know how long he'd been flogged. He'd lost track of time after the tenth blow of the whip. When it was over, his back was covered in welts. Most were bright red, puffy temporary scar tracings that would settle on their own. But many more were open and bloody.

He screamed in pain, he screamed for mercy, and he screamed for Bray to stop.

But deep down, a voice was telling him, You brought this on yourself.

~~~ANGEL~~~

"Jay!"

Jay broke out of his harrowing recollection and glanced over at Bina, who had her hands on her hips and an odd look on her face. "You alright? You look like you just saw a ghost."

"I, uhmm...I thought I saw Abigail," he stammered. "Up in the trees. She was wearing a flowered dress and I swore she was looking right at us."

"I see her too sometimes," Bina nodded, but there was a knowing expression in her eyes. "'C'mon. Dinner's gonna get cold if we don't hurry..."

~~~ANGEL~~~

(JAY POV)

Roselle Pollard was the kind of person you'd picture in your mind if someone mentioned the word Momma. The kind of woman you'd see sitting in a wingback chair, humming to herself while she knitted a sweater or worked on some elaborate needlepoint project. The type you'd find in a brightly flowered house dress and a white apron, dropping neat spoonfuls of cookie dough onto a cookie sheet or perhaps mixing a cake.

She was middle aged, probably in her early fifties, and robust, vital, with strong features and good color. Her hair was short and stylish enough, and the same Nordic blonde as her daughters' hair. She had a sweet, kindly smile that put you right at ease. Here, that was something I desperately needed.

Her older son Jimmy was a physical brute; massive arms and shoulders, broad chest, long, muscular legs. His face was all hard planes and angles, and physically, he reminded me of a young Brock Lesnar. That is, until he smiled. That's when the generous, sweet smile of his mother would spread across his face and light it up like a Christmas tree. His hair was blonde, almost white, and his eyes were wide and blue (also his mom's contribution). Everyone over in Crowley knew him as a kindly soul who'd gladly help out a friend or neighbor in need.

Where Jimmy was the gentle giant, Frank was the agitator, practically daring you to knock off the chip he permanently carried on his shoulder. Frank was his polar opposite; shorter, stockier, and more round. His dark hair was always in need of a comb, and he had a perpetual smirk on his face. His eyes were so dark, they looked almost black. His nose was crooked; the result of a few fights in town. Frank took on after his late father...right down to the pugilistic attitude.

The people in town often thought Violet and Bina could find work as models, but Violet, of course, wasn't interested in that kind of thing; she wanted to become a nurse and work with premature babies, and Bina, with her Asperger's, would freak out from all the bright lights and noise. Besides, Bina preferred to spend her time at the library, reading about clouds and weather, or at home at the compound, either watching Jerry Springer or studying the Bible and poring over Bray's teachings.

Roselle set out a hearty meal—roast chicken, boiled potatoes, green beans, macaroni and cheese, pickles, coffee, and cookies-and we all dived into it eagerly. The day had been eventful-and everyone was very, very hungry.

Before I knew it, it was ten o' clock. I would have stayed all night if given a chance, but it was a school night, and the boys needed to get to bed. Bina insisted on walking me back to the house. Briefly I wondered if Bina would be alright by herself going home, but she insisted. I'd been her angel when I helped her at Walmart, so she was gonna be mine and make sure I got home safely.

Anna had been right about Bina. Once she got an idea in her head, it was impossible to get it out of her head. Not that I minded. It's difficult to make a simple walk from one house to the next when you feel like there's walls closing in on you, or you worry about someone behind you who's waiting for the opportune moment to take a swing at you.

It was during that walk back to the house that I realized how much I missed Luke, and the security I felt when he was around. But if I was to continue on my life journey, then I had to learn to live without him constantly at my side.

(END JAY POV)

Later, back in the red and black bedroom, Jay was getting dressed for bed. Anna was home from work and already in bed, and Jay didn't know how soundly she slept, so he tried to keep the noise down.

He stepped into a pair of soft lounge pants that looked like a pair of old ripped jeans, pulled his sleepshirt on, and wrapped his arms around himself as he crept quietly towards the bed. Most would laugh at Jay's choice of sleepwear, an oversized, faded black t-shirt that came down almost to his knees. It was enormous and it hung on Jay's slender frame like a trash bag, but he didn't care. He didn't wear it because of how it looked on him. He wore it because of what it meant to him.

Luke had given the shirt to Jay after he'd bathed him following the days he'd been disciplined, and Jay clung to it like it was a security blanket. It was soft, it was comfortable, it was comforting. And best of all, it smelled like Luke; the warm, wood-smoky, faintly musky, slightly sweaty scent was imprinted on every inch of fabric. On the nights that Luke wasn't with him, Jay could slip the shirt on and breathe in its scent and feel like he was there in spirit.

Jay climbed into bed. The clean, soft bedclothes felt almost sinful. He reached over to turn off the bedside lamp and lay back, letting his head touch the cool, clean pillow. Jay inhaled deeply, breathing in Luke's scent, which lay beneath the smell of detergent and fabric softener. Slowly, he let his eyes close and attempted to drift off to sleep.

Sleep, however, would be harder to achieve than he thought...

~~~ANGEL~~~

"They've been lying to you, man. There ain't no such thing as a hero! Not anymore... But you, and everyone else around you, have become addicted to the illusion of what a hero is. You have become addicted to the illusion of what a hero does for you. You think you need someone to pat you on the back. You think you need someone to talk you in bed at night, kiss on you on the cheek and tell you that everything is alright. But everything, everything, everything, EVERYTHING IS NOT ALRIGHT!"
-Bray Wyatt, Monday Night RAW 7/15/13

"Your ravenous behavior draws me to you, but your refusal to listen and obey me is testing my patience. The clock's ticking, Jay. You need to understand that I don't want to watch you suffer, but in my world there is no such thing as a happy ending. There are no fairy tales. I'm not gonna take you up to Daddy's house and roll you down a field of dandelions. This story ends the same way it started: Destruction. Destruction of your old self.

"And I need you to know we're going to bring you right to the limit to what you can endure. And then, we'll shove you past it. Hard. I don't care if it kills me, or if it kills Erick. I promise I'm going to prove to you that you're a monster, just like me. And in that moment of serenity I will take all the pain away... Join us! Join us, Jay!"

Jay shot the Eater of Worlds a glare that could take paint off a wall. "Go fuck yourself."

WHAM! Bay made a hamlike fist and belted Jay in the face. Jay's lip busted open and a coppery taste filled his mouth. He nearly gagged on the blood that bubbled down his throat.

Bray glared down at the defiant blonde who was now chained securely to the floor in the middle of the garage. His voice was cold and stern. "I'm afraid, Jay, that I have no mercy left to give. It could have been different, it could have been better, it could have been perfect. Well now, this is your fault. You gotta understand that it didn't have to be like this. All this pain, all this suffering...you brought this all on yourself. Your insane notion of wanting to kill yourself? There's no way in Hell I'm gonna let you do something so fucking selfish. Not when you have so much left to give this world."

"You have no fucking idea what I've been through!" Jay spat, blood spraying from his mouth.

Bray fell to his knees so that he was eye-level with his captive. "Don't think I didn't know what you were planning in Baltimore," he snarled. "I watched you long before Luke fell head-over-heels in love with you. You were gonna jump off your hotel balcony. We'd already mapped out how we were gonna take you. Even if you'd somehow made your way out of the arena after your match with Kane that night, you never would have made it to the hotel lobby, let alone made it back to your hotel room. We wouldn't have allowed it. You're too valuable to me, you're too valuable to us, and Luke would never forgive me if you died on my watch."

Jay felt a chill shudder through his body that had nothing to do with the coldness of the garage floor. "How...how long have you all been watching me?" he whispered in shock.

"Long enough for me to keep you from making the biggest, most selfish mistake of your life," Bray answered simply, as Jay hung his head in shame and fear.

"Suicide's an unforgivable sin, Jay," Bray pointed out. "And I'm gonna punish you for your selfishness. I want you to open your eyes." Swiftly, Bray grabbed a handful of Jay's hair and pulled his head up. "Open your eyes and look at your dismay! Open your eyes, Jay!"

Jay had no choice but to open his eyes. Bray continued, his voice rising. "This is the end of your old life! If I have to wrap you in chains for the rest of your days and beat you to a pulp to save you from yourself, then DAMMIT, I WILL! YOUR OLD LIFE IS OVER, JAY! SO YOU'D BETTER GET WITH THE FUCKING PROGRAM!"

"Take your best shot, you freak," Jay hissed back, his teeth stained red by the blood from his split lip. "You'll never break me."

Bray let a sly grin play across his face. "We'll see about that," he purred, the softness in his voice more of a threat than his loud bellowing...

...Jay gasped and sat upright in bed, his heart racing, and his palms sweaty. Tremors ran throughout his body, and for a moment, he forgot where he was. Calm down! You're not in the garage anymore! You're safe and in bed! Steady! Deep breaths! he told himself, pressing his damp palms against the bedclothes and willing himself to relax.

Once his pulse stopped racing, Jay glanced around. The moon was shining through the window, bathing everything in the room in a cool, silvery glow. The moonlight cast long shadows on the furniture, making things look otherworldly. It almost felt like the shadows were arms reaching out to grab something—or someone.

And was it Jay's fevered imagination, or were the walls closing in on him?

"No...no," he whispered, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. "This isn't the garage. I'm not in the garage. I'm in bed, I'm safe, Luke's gonna be home soon. I'm safe. I'm safe. I'm safe."

It became a mantra. "I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe..." Jay's voice trailed off when he realized that his reassurances weren't working. A growl of frustration left his lips as he reached over almost angrily and flipped on the bedside light. The creepy shadows disappeared, and the walls were back to where they were supposed to be.

Jay flopped onto his back and draped his hand over his forehead. I can't take another sleepless night if it's gonna be like this! he realized, before he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stumbled to his feet. Careful not to create any more disturbance than necessary, he ventured cautiously down the hall to the bathroom. A mixed scent of cleaning products and peppermint tingled his nose as he flipped on the bathroom light and staggered inside.

There's gotta be something in here that can help me get to sleep! Jay thought, fumbling through the medicine cabinet. There was toothpaste, toothbrushes, combs, razors...ah ha! A family-sized bottle of Benadryl.

Jay let a slight smile play across his face. A time-tested allergy pill with the added benefit of inducing drowsiness. Well, they're not supposed to be habit-forming, he thought, shaking out three pink capsules and swallowing them. He filled the plastic cup that was sitting on the sink with water and emptied its contents in two gulps.

On legs that felt like spaghetti, Jay made his way back to the bedroom. In the softly-lit room, Jay could see another problem. The bed was in the center of the room; its position reminded Jay of the harrowing days in the garage. The chains that had bound Jay by wrists and ankles were long ones that were connected to a heavy-duty eye bolt that was secured tightly to the floor. They'd been long enough to where Jay had some freedom of movement, but not long enough for him to reach a corner or a wall where he could take refuge. Consequently, he was fully exposed to Bray and Erick's unique brand of discipline.

But as long as I'm close to a wall, Jay thought, as he approached the bed, I'm safe.

Anna, I hope you're a sound sleeper.

Jay blinked, feeling a wave of drowsiness. The Benadryl was beginning to have an effect, so Jay knew he had to work quickly. The bed, although queen-sized, was not terribly heavy. Bracing his feet firmly on the floor, Jay put his hands on the side of the bed and pushed it across the floor until it was nearly flush with the wall on the right side of the room.

At least nobody will be able to sneak up behind me, he thought with wry amusement before he climbed back into bed. Wrapped up in the covers, with his back facing the wall, Jay closed his eyes and let sleep wash over him like an incoming tide...

~~~ANGEL~~~

"One day you meet someone and for some inexplicable reason, you feel more connected to this stranger than anyone else-closer to them than your closest family. Perhaps this person carries within them an angel-one sent to you for some higher purpose; to teach you an important lesson or to keep you safe during a perilous time. What you must do is trust in them-even if they come hand in hand with pain or suffering-the reason for their presence will become clear in due time."
-Lang Leav, Love & Misadventure

"Tic, toc, tic, toc, tic, toc, tic, toc... Boo! Hahahahahahaha...

"I don't mean to keep hurting you like this, Jay... but how many times must you cross this burning bridge before you realize, that you're fighting a losing battle? My poison is already running through your veins. You know who we are, Jay. And before long you will finally realize what you are. Hmmm... join us!"

Jay turned his head in the direction of Bray's voice. How long had he been here? A day, a week? A month perhaps? No matter. Time had lost all meaning, with hours, minutes and seconds bleeding together without any boundary or limit and becoming a huge void. Bray had stripped him of his charisma, his will to fight, his freedom... and now he was a hollow vessel, or a blank slate.

Bray and Erick had brought Jay to his absolute limit...and then shoved him past that. Hard. Beating, drugging, being forced to listen to the Eater of Worlds launch into a sermon about everything and anything and nothing...all of it had worked to chip away at what and who he thought he was and what he thought he held dear.

Jay's nose ran, and he wiped it on the sleeve of his shirt. He winced in disgust at the sharp, unpleasant smell embedded in the fabric. After wearing the shirt and pants for days on end, Jay wanted to rip the filthy garments from his body and burn them.

He knew his body wasn't much better either. His face was pale, haggard, bruised and covered with at least a week's worth of stubble. His lips were cracked and split, bleeding. His hair was a greasy blonde scarecrow on top of his head. The chains around his wrists and ankles left the skin beneath them scraped and raw. If some Hollywood director needed an extra for a horror movie, Jay thought in sour amusement, I'd certainly fit the bill! What I wouldn't give for some hot water and soap right now! It's a miracle I haven't gotten bitten by insects or developed an infection from all the cuts and marks on me.

"What if I was to tell you, that the man who made you, the man that created the persona that you hid behind for the better part of two decades, is a liar? What if I was to tell you that your friends, your fans, and even your own flesh and blood turned their backs on you? You listened to them, followed them like a mindless lemming rushing out to sea. How far have they gotten you? How far have you got listening to them? Come on, let me show you what you can be! Come on, Jay! Come on, what are you waiting for? The world is awaiting outside.

"I'm not like Vince, Jay. I'm not like your so-called friends who dropped you when they all grabbed that brass ring of fame and fortune. I will never turn my back on you, and maybe, just maybe, the answers you seek have been slapping you right in the face. And maybe, just maybe, I, Bray Wyatt, the Eater Of Worlds, have been the answer all along."

Bray's words sounded almost hypnotic in Jay's fevered mind:

You listened to them, followed them like a mindless lemming rushing out to sea. Come on, Jay! Come on, what are you waiting for? The world is awaiting outside.

How far have they gotten you?

How far have you got listening to them?

Come on, let me show you what you can be!

I will never turn my back on you, and maybe, just maybe, the answers you seek have been slapping you right in the face.

And maybe, just maybe, I, Bray Wyatt, the Eater Of Worlds, have been the answer all along.

I will never turn my back on you, and maybe, just maybe, the answers you seek have been slapping you right in the face. Now that Jay had been removed from everything he'd been accustomed to, Bray's words were beginning to make sense. Yes, he had listened to his so-called friends, and yes, they'd dropped him after they'd become famous. Yes, he'd followed the masses like lemmings rushing out to sea, only to drown in the end. Yes, he gave and gave and gave to others and got nothing in return. His so-called friends took and took and took from him, leaving him with nothing.

And now Bray Wyatt, in his twisted way, wanted to give Jay everything. And in that moment of clarity, while chained to the floor in the middle of a cold, dark, lonely garage, Jay realized that he had nothing to lose.

And everything to gain, twisted as it was.

"You're... You're right," Jay whispered, lowering his head.

Bray was caught slightly off guard by Jay's unexpected admission. A grin tweaked across his lips; was his captive finally breaking? "Say it again! Say that again!"

"You're right." Jay's voice sounded flat, deflated, as a cold reality began to seep through his bones. "You're right. You were always right. No matter how hard I worked, no matter how loud everyone cheered for me, you were always right. My friends, Vince... they held me down. Vince will always hold me down, no matter how loud everyone chants, no matter how hard I fight." Jay paused, and his eyes narrowed in bitterness. "They've shouted my name in every venue I've ever been to, they've sung my praises time and again, and Vince doesn't give a fuck. Everything I've done, every drop of blood and sweat and tears, every injury, every word, everything...it don't mean jack to him."

Bray carded his fingers through his captive's lank hair. His voice was soft. "I see you for what you really are, but Vince and everyone else, they look at you like you're some broken-down horse on its way to the glue factory. I see you as a catalyst. An agent of change. An angel in the dirt. A monster like me, afraid of nothing and nobody. Together, you and I and my brothers and sisters, we can tear the walls off of this place. Together, we can bring the machine to its knees, Jay."

Jay, who was still lying on the cold floor, lifted his head to meet Bray's intense gaze. "I have nothing left, Bray. I'm yours. I hurt. My body hurts. My soul hurts. Everything hurts." Jay paused, and then he licked his cracked and pale lips, tasting blood on his tongue. When he spoke again, he sounded almost like a little lost boy. "I don't wanna hurt no more. I don't wanna fight anymore. I just wanna come home. I'm yours."

Bray pulled a key out of the front pocket of his pants and undid the lock that attached the chains dangling from Jay's wrists and ankles to the bolt in the floor. A sigh escaped Jay's lips as he brought his hands and knees to his chest.

The Eater of Worlds stretched his hand out, beaming like a proud papa. "I always have a home for you, Jay."

Jay reached out with his own hand, intending to grasp the hand of Eater of Worlds. But at the last second, Bray jerked his hand away and kicked Jay in the ribs, sending the captured blonde toppling sideways onto the cold concrete floor. He stepped back several feet and spread his arms out to the side, like a crucifix. "Not so fast. I wanna be sure you're serious about this, and you're not just blowing smoke up my ass. Cause if I find out you're lying, Jay, your suffering will be LEGENDARY! And don't think I won't figure it out, because I will. So, you wanna join us, be one of us?"

Bray paused, and watched Jay nod his head. "That's not good enough. I wanna hear you say the words, Jay. Do you wanna join us? Do you wanna be one of us?"

An excruciating silence passed, and then Jay met his captor's fierce blue gaze while he struggled to his knees. Anyplace—anything—would be better than the hell he was locked in at the moment. He just wanted the pain to go away, and wanted the punishment to stop. "I thought I already was one of you."

"Then you better start crawling. Crawl, Jay! C'mon! Crawl!"

Jay half-crawled, half dragged himself forward slowly, laboriously, on his stomach and elbows in a combat crawl, his breath coming in pants and grunts, punctuated here and there by tiny whimpers of pain. His abused body screamed in agony, the chains behind him dragging and jangling quietly. Bray stood only ten feet away from him, but to Jay, he was miles away. "Is this what you want?" Bray shouted, in an odd form of encouragement. "Is this what you desire? I will give it to you. You wanna become one of us, Jay? Well, I'm right here waiting! I'm right here waiting! Come and get in! I'm right here! Come on. You're waiting! What are you waiting for? What are you waiting for? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, JAY? COME ON!"

It took some time, but eventually, the beaten blonde managed to reach Bray, and he grabbed a handful of Bray's pants to pull himself up to his knees. His broken blue gaze locked with Bray's as he held his own arms out to the side. Bray crouched down and wrapped his arm around Jay's chest. Jay was aware of big fingers brushing aside a greasy lock of his hair.

"Welcome to the family, Jay," Bray told him, kissing his forehead.

Before Jay was able to register anything else, he felt his back slam hard against the cold floor once again. The breath rushed out of his body and stars spattered his vision, making the figures of Bray and Erick looming above him almost sparkle. He would have giggled if the situation wasn't so dire and if the wind hadn't been knocked out of him.

It occurred to Jay that Bray had used his finishing move on him, and on a cold garage floor no less. A groan escaped Jay's lips as a new pain bloomed in his back like a big, ugly flower and spread through his limbs and joints. As he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, he felt something dissolve inside him like salt dissolving in water. It took a moment for him to realize that it was what was left of his will to fight.

Bray sunk to his knees and gripped Jay's hand. "This is forever," he barked. "This is going to change everything."

Jay nodded faintly. "Forever," he whispered back, past the point of caring.

"So, pop quiz. Who do you belong to."

Jay parted his lips, his voice sounding strange, hollow. "...You...I'm yours."

"Good boy. And what are you? I just told you a few minutes ago, and I'm sure your memory isn't so short that you haven't already forgotten it."

"I'm a catalyst," Jay whispered. Bray's poison was spreading, slowly, sweetly through his veins, slipping seductively through every molecule of his body and changing everything it touched. "An agent of change. An angel in the dirt. A monster like you."

"Good. Next question. Where do you live?"

"I live here," Jay answered. It felt like he was not in his body, and he was watching and listening to someone who looked and sounded like him. "This is my home."

"Next one. What do you do when I'm around?"

"Obey."

A radiant smile spread across Bray's face, making him look like the twisted angel that he was. "Now you understand, Jay. I did what I had to do so that you could be reborn into who you are meant to be." Bray smoothed the disheveled blonde hair from Jay's forehead. "You're one of us, now. You're right where you belong. Welcome home."

"Obey...obey..." Jay's voice was a whisper as he felt himself drift away. As he did, he heard Bray sing the chorus of something that sounded at that moment like a lullaby:

"There's a place in the meadow,
a place you can hide.
Walk with the reaper,
leave this world behind..."

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: *Gives Jay muse a hug and some warm milk* I think the sooner he deals with the after-effects of his captivity, the better. How do you expect him to be a catalyst and an agent of change if he can't look after himself properly?

Wasn't too sure about that final scene between Jay and Bray in the garage; it was too short for a full chapter, so I figured that it would be another flashback/dream sequence. I know there's been quite a few of them, as well as POV changes, and I hope I haven't confused any of my readers.

In the next story, Jay and his "family" reunite, and he remembers when he finally saw the light...sort of.

REVIEWS = LOVE