Warning! Mentions of child abuse.

Chapter 14

Because of you - I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me (Because of you - Kelly Clarkson)

They had barely sat foot down in Miami when Ron already dragged his nephew down to the beach. They sat down in the sand, Ron with a bottle of water that smelled rather strong for simple tab water, Ryan with a can of coke.

Ron took a large sip from his bottle, "Oh, this feels so good! Haven't had a decent vodka in two weeks!"

"Do you think it's a good idea to drink vodka in the sun? With this heat?" Ryan was amused.

"I've been living here for almost 20 years. I know exactly how this works." Ron put the bottle away and took his shirt off. "I missed the sun. The weather is Boston those last days was crap. I still don't know why my brother decided to stay there."

"He thinks Miami is too dangerous to raise a proper family here. He thinks the city is full of naked girls, pimps, and people like you."

"Oh well, can't say anything against that…" Ron yawned and outstretched on the sand. "When I find myself in times of trouble…"

"Mother Mary comes to me…" Ryan breathed the salty air in. "Thanks for having me over, Ron."

"You're welcome. I always like having you over. My flat has never been cleaner than after your last visit."

"So, you only want me here so that I can clean your mess?"

"Yes. You're better at it than any cleaning firm."

Ryan laughed, "Then at least I do have a real alternative to signing up." He turned his head to observe his uncle. He was lying in the sand, his eyes closed. It wasn't the first time he saw his uncle half naked, but the sight of his body always made Ryan sad. "Can I ask you a question, Ron?"

"Shoot."

"These scars… on your body… was that grand pa?"

"Except for this one…" He pointed at a long scar going from his lower chest down and disappeared in his boxers. "That was an appendicitis. This butcher of a doctor ruined all my dreams to become an underwear model…" His grin was only short lived when he then added, "But the rest was my father, yeah. Why do you ask?"

"Just… well… I don't know."

"Don't worry. Your dad's not going to do this to you."

"Oh, I know… It's just…."

Ron opened his eyes and turned his head to Ryan, "Yeah?"

Ryan thought a bit before saying, "I just can't get over the fact that your father has been such a…."

"Bastard? I can understand. I should have never told you."

"No, it's okay. I just have a hard time imagining why a father would do this to his kids."

"According to your father it's to make 'a man out of us'. But believe me, I didn't understand it either. And I don't understand why Duke continues the tradition. In every way."

"He's not that bad…"

"That might be true, but it's bad enough." Ron took a deep breath. "If you were my son, I wouldn't do this. I'd make sure you have a good childhood. But it's too late now."

"You already help me more than you can imagine." Ryan whispered. "If I had to go back to Douglas…" His voice broke.

Ron sighed, "I shouldn't have let you go in the first place. I knew it was wrong. I guess I just hoped that your father would take care that you're not being… well, that they would not be too hard on you. I was an idiot." He chuckled, "I should know my brother better."

"You couldn't have done anything…"

"I know. Still, I feel like I should have tried more. But it has happened now." Ron wasn't nearly as calm as his words sounded.

"It's okay, Ron. At least you protected me from being punished by dad." He took another look at Ron, "I didn't know a belt could leave such scars."

"It wasn't a belt." was Ron's short answer. "Your grandfather stopped early enough with the belt. When he noticed it didn't impress me anymore. You know, when you get the belt almost every evening, at some point it doesn't scare you anymore. So my father decided to get the heavy equipment out."

"Which was?"

"He wrapped some barbed wire around his cane and hit me with it. That's where the scars come from."

Ryan was shocked, "That's horrible."

"It hurt like a bitch." Ron murmured. "But it didn't break me. At least, not enough, to his taste. So, he locked me up in the basement." He closed his eyes, "He called my school, telling the principal I was down with some sort of flu. He even got his friend, who was a doctor, to sign the necessary papers. He kept me locked there for about two weeks. No light whatsoever. I got some bread and a bottle of water everyday. Nobody talked to me. It was complete isolation. The first day was okay. The second day I started pacing the room. After a week, I was lying on the stairs, crying, begging him to let me out. After two weeks, I was completely numb to everything. I don't even remember the moment he let me out. I just know that this was the last straw. When I was strong enough again to walk, I ran away from home. When they found me and brought me back home, I told my father I wasn't gonna sign up. My mom had to stop him from kicking me to death."

Ryan didn't answer anything at first. He was too upset.

Ron noticed, "Don't worry. Look at me now: I'm stunning. And the girls dig my tragic past. You wouldn't believe how many women have a hidden nurse in them…" As he noticed Ryan's wasn't smiling, he said, "Ryan, really, I got over it."

"I know. Still… I didn't know just how hard your childhood was. And my dad's."

Ron nodded and then got up, "Come on, let's go home. I didn't drag you here to tell you all about my horrible childhood. We'll go home, unpack, take a long shower, then we'll order us some nice dinner, watch a fun movie, and then we'll go out and run the streets till tomorrow morning. I'll even let you have a sip of my vodka."

It was so cold. So freaking cold. He was soaked. The rain felt like ice on his bare skin. He was naked. They had torn his clothes, and now he was lying naked face front in the mud, at the mercy of these brutal guys. Every one looked like the Incredible Hulk. Not green, but mighty angry nevertheless. They had pinioned him down on the muddy ground, sitting hard on his arms and legs. He screamed, he even cried, but they only laughed. "Oh look at him, he's crying. You're such a wimp!" He didn't care. He just cried more. When the one who was sitting on his chest suddenly pulled out a knife, he begged for mercy. But to no avail. The faceless guy grabbed a bunch of his hair and started cutting it off at the root. He didn't care that the knife broke skin; he even pressed firmly against it so that it started bleeding. Ryan screamed, now out of pain. But the guy only laughed some more and pushed Ryan's head into the mud. His mouth filled with water as he noticed a pair of hands on his head, keeping it down, while more strands of his hair were being ripped off more than cut. He didn't want to, but the pain made him scream. Of course the screams were muffled as he was still with his head in the mud, but he could hear them laughing anyways. He tried to get out of there grip, but they were stronger, so much stronger than him, and they held his head down, he couldn't breath, and more water got into his lungs…

"Ryan? Ryan, wake up!"

Ryan tossed and turned, "No, please, lemme go, please!"

"Ryan!"

He couldn't shake the hand off and screamed louder. His eyes jerked open and he sat upright. The cold light of the living room slowly brought him back to reality. "Ron?"

Ron's expression was more than worried, "Yes, it's me. I'm here, little one. Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?"

Ron nodded, "Yeah… I… but I'm okay now…" His physical clearly showed that he wasn't. Cold sweat was running down his back, and his head hurt so much he must have scratched it when he had dreamt of the knife. And his eyes… he ran his hand towards his face and noticed the remainders of the salty tears he must have shed during his dream. "Thank you for waking me up."

If he couldn't see the pain in his own face, he could see the reflection of it in Ron's. His uncle was close to tears himself. "Ryan… these fucking bastards. I should have killed this Douglas when I had the chance to."

"No, Ron, really…" Ryan was still shaking. "It's okay. You don't need to kill him. Or anybody."

Ron sighed and sat down in front of the couch, "Ryan. I'm gonna ask this question only once. Are you sure you don't want to stay here? Do you really wanna go back to Boston?"

Ryan lowered his head and murmured, "I have to. He's my dad."

"Ryan, I know you feel like you owe him obedience, but you don't. You're old enough. If you tell them you don't wanna stay with him, but with me, or on your own… Look at you. You can't go back."

"Why can't I?"

Ron hesitated, "Because you're not meant to be a soldier."

"I'm too weak?"

"Stop talking nonsense, Ryan. You're harder than most kids your age. But even you can't take more of this."

"I have to. I will become a soldier."

"Is this really what you want?"

Ryan had to look away from Ron, "You know I don't. But I have to. You could take the hate from your family. I can't. I'd give the world to hear him say he's proud of me. And if this is the only way I can hear that… You know I'm used to follow orders."

"Ryan…"

But Ryan raised his hand, "Please, Ron, stop it. Don't make it harder." He smiled bitterly, "I appreciate everything you did for me. But I've taken my decision. If I have to sign up just to make my father respect me, then this is the price I'll pay." His voice was strained when he continued, "I wish I was as strong as you, but I am not. If I already break at the hands of my father's friend, how do you imagine I will break if my father does to me what your father did to you? I couldn't handle it."

"There's a difference, Ryan. I was alone. You're not."

"It doesn't matter…. I think I'll go back to sleep now. Thanks for waking me up." He stretched out on the couch again, his back turned to Ron. He heard when, after one minute, Ron got up from the floor and left the living room for the kitchen. A few seconds later, he heard the clinking of glass, and then the bubbling of a liquid being poured into it.

He hated to see his uncle hurt like this. He knew he was. And Ryan felt ashamed that it was him who had hurt Ron. But there was nothing he could do. He hadn't been able to get the story Ron had told him of his mind. He had always thought he had a rough childhood, but, oh lord, Ron's and his own father's had been so much worse. To imagine what his father must have gone through hurt him more than he could tell. He actually felt a twinge of hate for his grandfather. How could he do this to his own children? If the old man was here now, Ryan wasn't sure what he would do to him. But his father had gone to so many hardships… how could he, Ryan, complain about such small things? He was now determined he would become a soldier. He would make his father happy, and make up for all the pain dealt to him by his own father's hand. And, maybe, the day Ryan would be a full grown soldier, he would see his father smile and tell everybody who would want to hear it that Ryan was his son, and that he was proud of him. And maybe, at some point, Ryan would stop being afraid of his father.

AN: As of now, we do have a winner in the poll. If you want your favourite story to be written, VOTE, guys :o)