When Wes finally pulled away from and collapsed back onto the other side of the bed, Kevin only felt the barest inkling of relief. Mostly he just felt empty, as if everything of substance had been ripped away from him, leaving him just a shell.

"Well, damn, that was even better than I expected," Wes drawled, reaching out again and slapping Kevin firmly across the ass. "You sure you were a virgin? You seemed a little bit too enthusiastic for that to be true, if you know what I mean."

Renewed fury and disgust briefly ebbed into Kevin, but ultimately he was still too numb to respond what Wes was saying. Instead of responding to the crass remark, he painstakingly sat up and rose from the bed, wincing as he did. Though Wes had been deliberately careful not to visibly injure Kevin, he certainly hadn't been gentle with him. Kevin had no doubt that by tomorrow he would have a number of bruises purpling along his hips, thighs, and chest.

As he tried to move away, Wes's hand lashed out and grabbed his wrist.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, a nasty smile playing on his lips.

"Home," Kevin said tonelessly, even as his heart sped up in his chest. When he blinked, he half-expected the surroundings of the bedroom to be wiped away, to fade from view like he were in some kind of nightmare that could be recognized as false and then soon forgotten.

Wes's gripped tightened. "So soon?"

"My dad is going to notice that I'm gone," Kevin replied woodenly, even as rage and shame swirled within him. The strange numbness persisted; it was as if he were a different person inside his head than outside. "He'll wonder what happened."

"You make sure he doesn't," Wes ordered him.

Another fiery blaze of anger flowed through Kevin, and this time his numbness shattered as he snarled out a retort. "Or what? You'll have him shot? Or have Jughead shot? Or do to Toni the same things you do to me?" He wished he could be somewhat more controlled; his breath left his lungs in short bursts, and he stared hard at Wes, feeling charged and wild.

But Wes did not seemed moved or impressed. "You're right," he remarked casually, as if he were just talking about the weather. "I could do anything of those things."

His nonchalance brought utter revulsion to flood through Kevin, and a part of him wanted nothing more than to grab the nearest blunt object and slam it repeatedly into Wes's skull until he lay dead there on the sheets. But another part, a stronger part, urged him to leave this house as fast as possible, to not delay a moment longer.

Wes wasn't finished, though. "Still, it seems like it was a mistake to ever use threats with you, huh? You probably would have come to me at one point or another." He dropped Kevin's wrist in favor of lifting his hand to caress Kevin's jaw. "It kind of rankles me, I gotta admit. When I think of how sweet you would have been to me if I'd just let you approach me on your own . . ."

Jerking his head back, Kevin sharply slapped his hand away. "I'm leaving," he snapped, glad that even though his body was trembling terribly, his voice remained steady and harsh.

With that, he grabbed his boxers and jeans, wasting no time in sliding into them, not even slowing down at the jolt of pain that accompanied his rapid movements. While he snagged his shirt, socks, and shoes, he did not pause to put them on; he would do that once he was downstairs, once he was away from Wes.

Stalking toward the door, Kevin flung it open, determined to get out of the house.

"Oh, and Kevin?" Wes called after him.

Reluctant as he was to stop, Kevin halted and turned to look back at him.

Wes gave him one last smirk. "Tread carefully. Remember now, I've still got that standing invitation to dinner with you and your dad."

The last time Kevin had the choice of staying to fight with Wes or fleeing from him, he'd chosen flight, and this occasion was no different. He hurtled himself down the stairs and only briefly diverted to the living room to slip on his shirt, socks, and shoes. During his minute sojourn, he caught sight of himself in a mirror hanging on the wall, and was rewarded with the slightest prick of reassurance: while he certainly didn't look good right now, he was only somewhat disheveled, not completely a wreck and not injured or marked in any way that would be difficult to explain.

Once he slid his second shoe on, adrenaline pumped through his veins, his instincts taking over, and Kevin bolted over to the front door, grabbed his phone and his backpack from where Wes had forced him to leave them, and for the second time in his life, sprinted away from Wes's house in the hopes of eventually escaping what had been done to him.

Aided by the urgency flooding through him, Kevin's feet rapidly rose and fell on the pavement of the road as he ran as fast as he could, his backpack thumping on his shoulder. Houses passed by him in a blur of colors and shapes, but Kevin paid no attention to where he was until several minutes later, when he was completely winded and had to slow to a walk to catch his breath.

When his breathing wasn't quite as ragged, he straightened and looked around, trying to absorb his surroundings and determine where he was, even though he couldn't particularly see why it mattered as of right now. With his rush of adrenaline fading away, he suddenly became aware of just how sore and aching his body was. Suddenly, he was slammed by absolute exhaustion, and he could barely move his feet along the asphalt. Thoughts flitted through his mind of just lying down across the road and closing his eyes.

No. Kevin had made it this far. He wouldn't give up now.

With a herculean effort, he dragged himself down the street, keeping an eye out for any familiar sights. If half-occurred to him that he could simply use the GPS on his phone, but tired and drained as he was, it barely seemed worth the effort. He was gratefully that this neighborhood seemed to be very quiet; not a single car had passed him yet, not that he had registered, anyway, and he didn't want to deal with any awkward inquiries from curious strangers.

But just as he was thinking of the one sliver of luck he had that evening, his foot caught on something at the end of the driveway he was passing by, and he fell to the ground with a sharp curse, scraping his palms raw on the hard surface of the road as he threw his arms out to break his fall.

"Sorry about that," a familiar voice said as Kevin remained there on the ground, too weary to move. "That skateboard is my kid brother's, and I've told him over and over again that he needs to start putting it away—hey, you all right?"

Footsteps crunched along the driveway as Kevin slowly started to pick himself up, his hands and knees smarting, all of his limbs twinging painfully, and a headache now pounding at the base of his skull.

"Wait—Kevin?" the voice asked almost incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

At the moment, it was all Kevin could do to push himself up off the ground, let alone answer or identify the voice. So when a pair of strong but gentle hands reached out to help him stand and then held him steady as he regained his balance, he was taken aback to find the his unexpected rescuer was none other than Moose Mason.

"Moose?" he questioned, half-dismayed, half-disbelieving. Of all people to see him when he was at the absolute lowest point in his life and looked like it, why did it have to be the guy who was taking him to the school dance just a few days from now?

"That's me," Moose replied amiably, but he was frowning as he took in Kevin's haggard appearance. "Hey, um . . . you doing all right?"

A burst of wild laughter swelled in Kevin at the question. Every part of his body hurt, he'd been forced into having sex with one of his father's men, and that same man was still threatening to harm various people Kevin cared about. And now, he looked like an absolute fool in front of Moose. This night was the very worst night of his entire life, even worse than the night Wes had first attacked him.

The first night . . . any urge to laugh abruptly disappeared as realization dawned over Kevin. That first night with Wes had been months ago, and Moose had found him and helped him then, too.

Nothing had changed. Three months had passed by, and Kevin was still trapped with Wes, still with no possibility of escape. Not a thing he had done in the meantime had made the slightest bit of difference, it had all just brought him back here, repeating the same scenario as before, as if he were trapped in some recurring memory he was doomed to repeat until the end of his days. A wave of despair enveloped Kevin; he still didn't have a prayer at stopping Wes.

"Kevin?" Moose prompted again, worry clear on his features. "You okay? Here, why don't you come inside—you don't look so good."

The invitation brought Kevin to push through his misery and give a proper response. "Thank you, but no." Concerned that the firm decline might seem rude, he hastened to add, "It's just that I got stuck here without a ride, and I'm trying to find my way back. You know, I have to get back home to have dinner with my dad."

A quizzical expression formed on Moose's face, and he opened his mouth to speak, but then seemed to have second thoughts, as he closed his mouth again. Several more seconds passed before he finally seemed to settle on a sentence he was satisfied with.

"Look, why don't I give you a ride?" he asked. "I have to go to the store to grab some stuff for dinner, and that was my little brother's skateboard your tripped over. Least I can do."

There it was, Kevin mused, struck by another flash of deja vu. Moose had given him a ride that first night; now here he was, giving Kevin another ride. It was as thought he was suddenly living in that Groundhog Day movie, the one he never could finish watching because he couldn't stand Bill Murray.

But if this was going to be his life now, who was Kevin to fight it?

"Sure," he said with a shrug, pain lancing through his shoulders at the movement. "Thanks."

Moose carefully guided Kevin over to his Dodge, and taking him by the hand, opened the door and helped him sit down, reaching out to steady him when twinges in his muscles prevented him from settling comfortably. Even through the fog of his exhaustion and hopelessness, Kevin realized that Moose was handling him with great caution, taking pains to treat him as if he were the most precious thing in the world. And in drained state, he couldn't help but appreciate the tenderness.

"You don't need to take me to my house," Kevin told Moose as the latter started the car. "My truck is still in the high school parking lot. If you just want to drop me off there, that would be great, actually."

Moose studied Kevin, his eyes remaining on him for much longer than was comfortable. "Are you sure you're okay to drive?"

"Fine," Kevin said briefly, turning away from Moose and looking out the window to signal the end of this discussion.

He hoped to find something to distract himself, and he did: as they pulled out of the Masons' driveway and around the corner, they passed in front of the house, letting Kevin see the front lawn. It was a nice house with a pleasant garden, but Kevin chuckled in spite of himself when he saw the variety of toys and sports equipment that was scattered across the lawn.

Moose laughed as well. "Yeah, I've got a whole horde of younger brothers and sisters. Guess you can probably tell, huh?"

"It's not a bad thing," Kevin told him, feeling relieved for the normal conversation, even as pain again spiked through his body when the passenger side tires hit a pothole.

Luckily, the drive back to the school wasn't very long; Kevin would have guessed that Moose's neighborhood was less than three miles away. Several times throughout the ride, Moose glanced at him and seemed to want to speak, but then just gave a smile and looked away whenever he made eye contact with Kevin.

"One thing I wanted to ask you," Moose began as he pulled into the parking lot. "It's about the dance on Saturday—I mean, we are still good for the dance, right?"

An unpleasant jolt ran through Kevin and he sat up, staring at Moose. "I thought we were," he said, wondering frantically if Moose had now decided he was too much trouble to bother with.

To his relief, Moose spotted the surprise on his face and rushed to reassure him. "No, no, we are! I just wanted to check in with you to make sure that your plans hadn't changed."

Parking in a space a short distance from Kevin's truck, he shut off the engine and turned to give Kevin his full attention. "I was just wondering—I mean, I know it's a thing to get girls corsages for dances. So, what I was wondering was, um, if you wanted one? And what color?"

The question floored Kevin, and for several heartbeats, he could only stare at Moose's expectant face, wondering if he'd imagined the words or somehow misheard them. But he was sure he'd heard them correctly, and he was left stupefied at the sheer absurdity of going from failing to help the Southside students and then being basically raped by Wes to now being asked about his flower preferences, of all goddamn things.

There was a swell of emotion he was too dumbfounded to recognize, and then he began shaking almost to the point of convulsion. At first Kevin thought he was laughing at the utter inanity of a corsage and a school dance compared to being forced into sex, but as his vision blurred and hot moisture splashed down his face, he realized that he was crying without being aware of it.

"Kevin?!" Moose's voice was extremely alarmed, and had Kevin been able to see his face through his tears, he was certain his expression would have been as well. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Though Kevin wanted to answer him, when he opened his mouth to respond, only a strangled sob came out. Mortified, he clamped his jaw shut and concentrated on regaining control of himself.

Moose reached toward him, then hesitated, pulling back a little bit, but then went through with it anyway, and Kevin found one warm, large large cradling his face while the other hand came to grasp one of his own.

"I'm here," Moose said emphatically, if a bit desperately. "Whatever you need, I'm here."

"I know," Kevin choked out, touched by Moose's words even if he wasn't able to convey it.

He managed to force back his tears and give Moose's hand a squeeze, blinking away the excess water in his eyes. "You're very kind to think about me, Moose. But you don't have to get me any flowers."

Moose nodded, still watching Kevin carefully. "Okay. Guess I'll bring my wonderful self then, right?" he asked, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

Clumsy as the attempt might have been, Kevin appreciated it. "That's fine. I'm looking forward to going with you. And I'm sorry about all of this," he indicated himself, "it's just been a tough past couple of days." Or weeks. Or months.

"We all have them sometimes," Moose said kindly. "You sure you're good to drive home?"

Kevin nodded. "Yeah." He opened the door to the car to exit, but then at the last second, darted toward Moose and gave him a peck on the cheek before stepping outside. "Goodbye, Moose. And thanks for your help, all of it."

Moose seemed too stunned to speak, but he grinned broadly at Kevin and waved to him as he left to walk toward his truck.

As Kevin walked, weariness weighed him down like bricks and his fresh injuries flaring up again, he couldn't hold back a sigh, knowing he'd made himself look like some kind of lunatic in front of Moose.

But when Moose's Dodge pulled out of the parking lot, he beeped the horn at Kevin, who in turn raised a hand in farewell. The exchange cheered him slightly; while he might have looked like an absolute whackjob, Moose didn't seemed deterred, and he'd been concerned rather than disgusted. And even with how thoroughly awful as the day had been, it meant more than he could ever say that in his moment of weakness, Moose had offered him compassion.

He'd also offered him a corsage for the dance.

A dance where, Kevin realized with a plummeting in his stomach, Wes would most likely be. Now that he was the resource officer, he would probably be expected to supervise.

Kevin closed his eyes, leaning against the side of his truck for support. He didn't think he could take seeing Wes again, not at the dance, not at tomorrow at school, not around town. Not when Wes would pretend to so amiable and normal toward him, like he was such a good guy, and any attempt from Kevin to push back on his calculated disposition would result in Kevin being the one to look like a bad guy. With as popular as Wes was, both he and Kevin knew few people in the town would be inclined to believe anything bad of Wes—it had been one of the many reasons Kevin hadn't attempted to speak out against him. Everyone liked Wes.

Everyone except for FP Jones.

Kevin's mind raced as he thought back to the previous night. When FP had seen him and Wes together, he hadn't wasted anytime in intervening. While Kevin had been paranoid that it was because he had recognized what was taking place between them, it might have also been just to cause trouble to Wes.

Of course, there was no guarantee that FP would help him—he certainly had no obligation to, especially not after Kevin had neglected to accomplish anything for the teen Serpents he was supposed to be mentoring. And as he had thought last night and still remained true, it would be irresponsible to push his problems onto FP and expect him to solve them.

But Kevin didn't need FP to solve his problems. He just needed someone who disliked Wes, and FP had certainly seemed to. Even if FP wasn't all that fond of Kevin and had no cause to be, he had even less reason to support Wes and probably would enjoy seeing him get taken down.

Drawing in a deep breath, Kevin unlocked the door of the truck and climbed inside, pain shooting through him from the injuries Wes had given him, but a spark of hope beginning to kindle in his chest.

Maybe, just maybe, Kevin had an ally, someone who wouldn't hesitate to see Wes for what he was.

Author's Note:

Will Kevin finally manage to tell someone about what's going on? Will that someone be FP? And if he does, what's FP going to think after the teen Serpents tell him what happened with Kevin's failed meeting with Principal Weatherbee? Let me know what you'd like to see happen in the next chapter!