A/N: Hello W.I.T.C.A. members and non-members, sorry that this taken so long but sister technology struck again and rendered my lap top internet incapable. Luckily I still have the family desk top so I don't have to visit Stinky at the library. YAY FOR ME!!! In the words of Master Wong,
"Technology is like a well aged prostitute. She has taken many years to learn her tricks. She laughs at you when you are naked, but you keep going back because she is the only prostitute that I can afford."
I owe a big thank you, once again, to JellyBeanChiChi. (not that I will ever tire of saying it) I must be getting something right because she didn't have to change much:D Also to sidle77 for telling where not to put it.
WARNING: This chapter does get mildly graphic.
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Face the Music Twenty-Nine
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Gil looked down at the card in his hand. In bright red the words CIRCLE OF HOPE were etched on the plain white card. He didn't know if he could ever really be comfortable around unfamiliar men ever again, much less being asked to share his experience with them in a circle. Then he recalled the discussion that he and Stacey had had the week before.
"Gil, I'm sure that you've heard the expression 'there is strength in numbers.'" Gil nodded. "It's the same with victims of rape. Your friends have been a great help to you, Gil, but because they have not fully shared your experience they cannot fully understand what you're going through." Stacey waited while Gil silently thought about what he had said. "That's one of the best things about going to a support group of any kind, Gil. And these are all men who have been through the same thing that you have. The pain and fear. The humiliation and self-loathing. And just because you go doesn't mean that you have to speak. It doesn't mean that you have to share what has happened to you. But you may find it strengthening to be there with other men who know what you are going through. Many of them, including the leader Ernie, have been dealing with this for years, and could give you hope and strength that you will get through this. Just think about it."
Gil looked at the meeting time on the card. Wednesday Nights at 6:00. He looked at Sara, who sat on the other end of the couch, and sighed. She looked up from the forensics journal she was reading and met his eyes.
"What's up?" She smiled.
"I… uh… am going to a meeting later."
"Yeah," she set the journal down in her lap. "What meeting?"
Gil took a deep breath. "Stacey has been talking to me about group therapy… and… I think I'll give it a try."
Sara smiled and took Gil's hand. "Do you want me to drive you?"
"No, I… I can drive myself." He looked back down at the card. "The meeting's at six."
"Okay," Sara was reluctant but it was something that he needed to do for himself. "I'll get dinner started then."
Gil didn't have much of an appetite that evening. He pushed the food around on his plate as he felt nervous and borderline upset. He didn't like the thought of being so exposed to people that he didn't even know, but reminded himself that he didn't have to share if he didn't feel like it.
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Gil pulled up outside of the crisis center and parked his car. He sat in silence for a few minutes fighting the urge to skip it and go home. After a while he looked at his watch and made himself get out of the car. He limped into the hall and looked at the directory to find the meeting room.
When he walked into the room he noticed the aroma of coffee and was a little surprised by the number of men in the room. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable and wanted to leave. Before he could turn back to the door a man with a quiet voice and a friendly smile greeted him.
"Hi there, my name's Ernie."
Gil watched Ernie as he made a relaxed approach towards the newcomer, and couldn't help the fear in his eyes. Ernie never offered to shake his hand, but he wouldn't have refused if Gil had been more willing.
"I'm Gil." Gil nodded and forced himself to hold out his hand.
Ernie shook his hand but was gentle and unassuming. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Gil. Will you be joining us tonight?"
"Um… yeah."
Gil followed Ernie to the circle of chairs as he called the others to start the meeting. Gil reluctantly sat in the chair that was closest to the door and the others there did their best to give him some space. They smiled at Gil and said hello, which he quietly returned, and turned their attention to Ernie. The meeting was not long and when they were done the others mingled and talked over coffee and cookies.
Gil couldn't help but notice the man who had sat across from him during the meeting and had looked at him curiously several times. Gil stiffened when the man rose from his seat and crossed the circle to claim the seat next to Gil.
"Hi, I'm Peter." The man held out his hand then caught himself and retracted it. "I know what you're going through. My first meeting scared the hell out of me." Gil stayed silent but watched the man out of the corner of his eye. "I remember you… Gil Grissom."
Gil inhaled sharply as he looked at the man who somehow knew his name. Gil looked around as paranoia crept upon him. Peter held up his hand to surrender and calm Gil.
"It's okay, Mister Grissom," he spoke softly so that they wouldn't be heard by the others. "You probably don't remember me, but I'm a… friend. I… uh… I was raped during a home invasion four years ago." Peter looked down at his shoes. "Two men broke in one night and… decided they wanted more than my money and that if they raped me I wouldn't report it. I almost didn't, but I started to think about my family and friends and realized that if I didn't report what they did than it would give them the chance to do it again. I couldn't bare the thought that my lack of courage could make me as guilty as them by not trying to stop them." Peter swallowed against the lump forming in his throat and Gil relaxed a little as he listened to this man that he did not know pour out his heart. "When the police arrived they didn't believe me when I said that I was raped, but the break in was obvious. Then… the Crime Scene Investigator arrived. The officers were laughing about it while I was being tended by the paramedics… I could hear them… making remarks." Peter looked up at the wall and studied it for a long moment. "And I will never forget what the investigator said to those officers, 'What makes you think that he wasn't raped? Is it his dislocated shoulder or his bloody pajama bottoms?'"
Peter looked at Gil and Gil finally recognized him. "Peter Gibson."
"Yeah," The young man nodded. "I didn't think that you would have remembered me, but… I never forgot you, Mister Grissom, and how you spoke up for me to those officers." Tears welled in Peter's eyes. "And I will never forget the words you said to me. You said… 'I believe you, Mister Gibson.' You don't know how much that has meant to me over the years. When the memories and flashbacks haunted me, and when my own family didn't believe me when I finally opened up and told them what happened. I always remember your words… they helped me get through it." He looked Gil in the eye. "This is a very hard road, Mister Grissom, and I'm sad that you have been forced to journey upon it. All of these men have struggled to get passed what happened to them, and I'm happy to see that you are trying to put it behind you too."
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When Gil walked through the door of the townhouse that night he was met by an anxious Sara. She asked him how the meeting had been, he said it was fine. He leaned against the door for a moment then fell into an old routine. He went to the living room and turned on the stereo. It didn't matter to him what CD was in there, he just needed time to think and process what he had learned at the meeting and music always helped him do exactly that.
As the notes etched from the violin played Vivaldi's Four Seasons they floated from the speakers and made their way to Gil's ears and his mind was flooded with images.
CRACK!
The memory of the whip slashing the flesh of his back was so vivid that it made him jump. His body stiffened as he heard the whip again. Tears welled in his eyes as he remembered every stroke of pain that he felt at the merciless hands of his captors.
Rubin Denalgio walked into the room with O'Tool close on his heels. Gil kept his head down and his eyes on the floor as Rubin stepped in front of him. Rubin sneered at his captive as he noticed that Gil was trembling. Gil gasped sharply when Rubin grabbed his exposed cock and squeezed it hard.
"Do you like that, slut?" When Gil didn't respond, holding onto a final thread of resistance, Rubin pulled up hard on Gil's cock, forcing him to stand on his toes as he cried out in pain. He still did not reply. "Well, we'll see how resistant you can stay after I whip you like the mongrel dog you are."
CRACK!
Gil's entire body shook and he felt he's knees weaken. Sara stepped into the room as he hit the power button on the stereo and stumbled towards the armchair. Gil's legs gave out just before reaching the chair and he fell to the floor, his full weight landing on his right knee. Sara ran to his side and pulled him into her embrace as he began to panic.
"Shhh… it's okay." Sara held him tighter as his body shook violently in her arms. "I'm here, baby, I'm here."
Gil jumped when he felt the crack of the whip again and cried out as his body remembered the pain that he had been forced to endure. He whispered the names of butterflies, but with another inaudible crack of the whip he cried out in pain and started naming the bones of the human hand.
Sara listened to his whispers as they were muffled by his cries and tears welled in her eyes at the thought of what his mind was forcing him to relive. He cried out again as he felt the whip. Her heart tore open when she heard his scream of pain and she held him tighter.
Gil saw Shelling, sitting before him, sipping a drink as he watched. There was no mistaking the pleasure in his captor's eyes or the fact that it increased every time Denalgio struck Gil with the whip. Every time Gil cried out in pain as his body twisted and arched. The sound of Denalgio's laughter was the only thing that Gil could hear beyond the crack of the whip.
Slowly, the images and sounds began to fade away and Gil's mind came back to reality. He was reclined in Sara's lap where they both sat on the floor. He couldn't remember how he got on the floor, but he did remember her grabbing him and holding him tight.
He sobbed repeatedly as his body calmed and he closed his eyes when Sara pressed a kiss on the top of his head. He had been hugging himself when she grabbed him and now she held his arms firmly to his chest. He didn't pull away and he didn't try to push her away. He simply stayed in her embrace until he felt calmed.
"I'm s-sorry." Gil whispered after a long silence.
"I'm not." He looked up at her as she eased her grip but didn't let go. "I love you, Gil. You're my heart and soul. I want to share everything with you, and that doesn't stop when you're in pain." Her voice hitched with a sob but she continued. "When you're reliving this… I want to be here for you."
When Gil had calmed a little more she helped him up off the floor and upstairs. He walked unsteadily to the bathroom and slumped against the wall before he even reached the door. Sara had not left his side and grabbed him before he could fall. He felt sick to his stomach and she helped him into the bathroom and to the toilet. Just as she lifted the lid Gil fell to his knees as his stomach emptied itself. Sara helplessly rubbed his back and sat next to him while he finished. When he finally forced his body to stop dry heaving he flushed the toilet and Sara helped him get off the floor. Gil felt completely spent and Sara silently helped him out of his clothes. She handed him his pills and steadied his shaking hand so that he could get them into his mouth.
When he had taken his pills and brushed the taste of vomit out of his mouth Sara helped him to the bed. She had helped him out of all but his boxers and he lay down before she could get him into his pajamas. He just didn't care. He wanted to get the images that had forced themselves into his mind out, but they would not go.
As Sara cuddled into Gil's side she felt the total tenseness of his body. He held her with a fierceness that made her feel uncomfortable. She propped herself up and looked down at him. He met her soft, brown eyes with his own haunted, baby blues and her heart ached for him. She wanted to help him relax.
"Gil, honey, what can I do to help you?"
Gil thought for a long moment before he shook his head. "I don't know." He whispered as fresh tears welled in his eyes.
Sara thought for a long moment then asked him to roll over onto his stomach. He was very reluctant. "Do you trust me, Gil?"
"With everything." He whispered after a moment.
Sara helped him roll onto his stomach as she sat next to him on the bed. Most of the lacerations had healed, leaving scars and very thin strips of scabs. She hadn't noticed the fresh tears in her own eyes until they rolled down her cheeks. She carefully traced his scars with her finger before leaning forward and pressing soft kisses over them.
Gil lay with his face against the pillow and tried to control his breathing as her touch invoked emotions from deep within him. Sara could not explain the feeling, but it was as if something drew her to these scars. It felt as if he needed a healing in these scars that went so much deeper than the skin and as she continued to press her kisses against them his body seemed to relax some.
Gil closed his eyes as the memories of his whipping seemed to melt away. Sara kissed her way over each scar until she reached the last one that stretched across his shoulders then kissed her way up the back of his neck. She nestled her face in his hair and stayed like that, just soaking in his scent and taking comfort in the closeness.
After a long moment Gil rolled back over and looked up at Sara. They maintained eye contact for a long time before he caressed her face and pulled her head down to kiss her softly on the lips. He slowly kissed his way down her neck as he rolled her onto her back and pressed a single kiss between her breasts before resting his head in the valley between them.
She gently ran her fingers through his hair as he closed his eyes and took solace in the sound of her heart beat. They lay still like that for a long time before Gil brought himself back up to lay next to her and she cuddled into his arms. He held her close as he fought back the emotions that warred within him.
"I will never… fully understand…" He searched for the right words as they whispered from his lips. "How your touch can make my bad feelings go away."
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That night the team had gathered in the layout room and went over Gil's case.
"Jim and I were finally able to meet with an agent from vice yesterday," Catherine began. "And asked about Gil's theory of Shelling running a prostitute ring." She opened the folder in her hand and displayed some pictures on the table for them to read. "He said that about ten and a half years ago they picked up three eighteen year old girls for hooking on the strip. All three of them had the same tattoo on their right buttocks." She showed them a picture of an R with an S snaking through it.
"Reggie Shelling?" Warrick asked.
"They couldn't prove it," Jim continued. "Although the agent said that he was sure that's who the mark belongs to, and none of the girls would talk."
Nick looked at the picture for a long moment before he spoke. "You know, when Ecklie and I interrogated O'Tool he had a bunch of tattoos that he hadn't had when he was picked up. He even had his head shaved. I'll bet he might know about this."
"It's worth asking him." Catherine said. "Let's go see him."
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Catherine and Nick quietly sat at the table in the interrogation room and watched Michael O'Tool for a minute. The young man kept his eyes on the table and didn't speak. Catherine pulled the picture of the R S tattoo out of the file in her hand and put it on the table for Michael to see.
"Tell me about this tattoo." Her words were not a request.
Michael looked at the picture and his face reddened. He quietly rose from his seat and turned his back to them. He bent forward and pulled down his pants, revealing the same tattoo on his right buttocks. Catherine and Nick frowned at each other and told Michael to have a seat.
"Why do you wanna know about my tat?"
"Where did you get that, Mister O'Tool?" Catherine tried to remain professional despite her shock.
"Reggie Shelling… he gave it to me when I…" He looked up at the investigators then back down at the table. "I'm not from Vegas, you know. I grew up in Houston. Back a few years ago… I got in a fight with my mom. I wanted her to run away with me… to someplace where my dad couldn't find us… couldn't hurt us anymore. She wouldn't leave him." Michael bit back his tears. "She just stayed with him. He'd get drunk and beat us… and she'd just stay with him. I couldn't do it anymore and I left. When I got to Vegas I was broke." He laughed despite his emotion and Nick and Catherine quietly listened. "I was sleeping in an alley under some news papers… and eating out of a dumpster when Reggie found me. He said that he would feed me and give me a place to stay… but I had to do something for him."
"How old were you, Michael?" Catherine calmly asked.
"Seventeen. Reggie did what he promised. But I didn't realize what he wanted until it was too late."
"He wanted you." Nick said after a long silence.
"Yeah, he trained me hard for a month. He taught me how to be a good, little bitch. He taught me how to obey the buyer and give them exactly what they wanted." Michael's tone was bitter and his eyes were full of hate.
The closet door opened and Michael turned his face away from the light. His hands were tightly cuffed behind his back and he had been forced into an awkward position with his legs underneath him. Reggie grabbed Michael's arm and pulled him out of the closet.
He pushed Michael to his knees and the young man sat, bewildered, with his eyes on the floor. Reggie had stripped Michael of his clothes days ago when he had arrived and now Michael shivered as the cool night breeze blew in through the open window and touched his bare skin.
Michael didn't need to look up to see that Reggie was opening his pants and pulling out his hardening cock. Reggie stroked it a few times as he watched the young man before him. "Open your mouth." Reggie ordered.
Michael accepted Reggie's cock and sucked it hungrily. Michael knew that if he hurried he wouldn't be given his next fix, which his body demanded despite the fact that he had never wanted the drugs to begin with and had been forced to take them. If he took too long to get his Master off he wouldn't be fed, and the hunger pangs were starting to flare up again as the drugs were wearing off.
Michael set an even pace, as he had learned to do soon after his captivity, and soon Reggie's moans filled the room as he grabbed Michael's hair and began thrusting into his mouth. When Reggie came he came hard and shot his hot cum down Michael's throat.
Michael forced himself not to gag as he swallowed every drop of Reggie's putrid cum. Reggie grabbed the younger man's hair again and yanked his head back.
"Who owns you?" Reggie sneered in Michael's face.
"Y-You do, Re-Reggie." Michael's voice trembled with his body.
Reggie pulled him to his feet and pushed him face first on one of the three beds in the room. The other two beds were already occupied by two teenage girls that had been chained to them and were being forced to pleasure two other men.
Reggie grabbed Michael's hair and yanked his head back. "You be a good boy, and pleasure him, and I'll make you happy when he's done." Reggie slapped Michael hard on the ass before speaking to someone else. Michael felt the bed dip as a naked man that he was not allowed to know covered Michael's body with his own before ramming his hard cock into Michael's battered ass.
"What went wrong?" Catherine interrupted, breaking Michael from his train of thought. "Why were you arrested?"
"I worked my corner for a moth before I realized that I was being watched, but by then it was too late and I was busted. The charges were solid and I went to prison."
"Why didn't you tell them about Shelling?"
"You think I'm stupid?" Michael sneered. "I'd rather go to prison than chance suffering anything Reggie would do to me for snitching."
"And that's where you met Denalgio?" Nick asked.
Michael laughed bitterly. "Yeah, that's what you could call it."
"Than why don't you clarify it for us." Nick was losing his patience.
"All I know is that Reggie's brother owed some sort of debt to Rubin and he couldn't pay it."
"So Reggie gave you to Rubin Denalgio as a payment." Catherine said, putting the pieces together.
"Yeah, and Rubin liked that. Ever been sold for half a pack of cigarettes? That's what Rubin would charge the inmates to fuck me in the ass. Four cigarettes if you only wanted a blow job. You want to see Rubin's mark?"
Neither Nick nor Catherine objected as they were both curious. Michael stood up and pushed down his pants again and pulled out his cock. The teeth marks that completely ringed his cock were clearly visible and very painful looking. Both investigators gasped in surprise and Michael sneered.
"Rubin took 'bite me' literally. I can still feel every single time that he sunk his teeth into my dick."
"That's enough." Nick said as he and Catherine stood. "We're done here."
The two friends silently left the prison and Nick drove them back to the lab. On the way there they discussed what had been said.
"What debt do you think John Shelling could have owed to Rubin Denalgio?" Nick asked, perplexed.
"Well," Catherine thought. "John had a drug habit and Rubin was a dealer. He was probably sneaking drugs into the prison and John racked up a bill."
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Catherine and Jim were getting ready to leave the lab that morning when Ecklie called them into his office. When they entered they saw the District Attorney leaning against his desk. Conrad asked them to sit and they did so warily.
"What's going on?" Catherine asked as both men seemed a little reluctant.
"O'Tool's attorney is pushing his right for a speedy trial." Conrad began. "Further more… their claiming that O'Tool was a victim and not an assailant."
"What, how the hell can they claim that?" Jim sat up in his seat as he looked between the two men.
"They're claiming that O'Tool and Doctor Grissom are…" The young DA looked at Conrad for support.
"They're claiming that O'Tool and Gil were actually gay lovers… and the video of O'Tool forcing Gil to… do things was actually a porno they did together before the kidnapping."
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A/N: I know, what an awful place to leave you guys. Hmmmm... perhaps I should rectify that??? Why don't you tell me what I should do:D No, not that! About the story:D
Hmmm... everybody still hating O'Tool? That is what I am most curious about.
