A/N: Last warning. It's gonna be graphic. You thought chapter 21 was too much? Get out now xDDD
Okay, I'm using the ~ symbol to switch between the video and reality. So, just be aware. it should be obvious though because the reality in the courtroom will always be from Ken's perspective. So yeah.
Enjoy my twisted dream turned into reality. =D
Kenny lied awake in the early morning, watching the three sleeping faces sprawled across from him on the bed. He chuckled as the two kids curled into each other and muttered at the other. He looked past them to Kyle, his smile dropping slightly. The boy's face was marred with worry, as it had been ever since their discussion with Oliver as of the night before.
"Kyle?" he whispered.
The redhead stirred a bit before creaking his eyes open. "Yeah?"
He sat up and brushed some of his messy hair back before looking at Kyle sadly. "You okay?"
"Dude, I was sleeping," he yawned, sitting up with him, careful not to wake the kids.
"I know, but not well," he replied.
"Sorry," he yawned again, rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?"
He looked over at the clock and smacked his lips. "Uh, 8."
"Mm...," he nodded. "Come on, I'll make us breakfast." He carefully stepped off the bed and stretched, his back letting out a soft pop.
"You're gonna get scoliosis one day," Ken smirked.
"I think that'll be the least of my problems," he muttered, stepping over to their dresser and pulling out a shirt, yanking it over his small torso. Ken stood up and clasped him around his waist, kissing his neck gently.
"Seriously, are you alright?"
Kyle sighed and leaned his head back on Kenny's shoulder. "No. No I'm not."
"Thought so. What's wrong?"
Kyle locked their eyes and he sniffed. "I...I don't want this."
"I know," he said, swaying him back and forth. "But I'll be there the whole time with you."
"Until you see it...," he sighed, turning and wrapping his arms around him underneath Ken's biceps and nuzzling his face into his chest. "I...I don't want you to see this, Ken..."
"Babe, it's gonna be okay."
"No it's not!" he argued, gripping his skin tightly. "I...," he sighed irritably, pulling back and looking up at him. "Ken...it's not."
"Look, I've seen you naked before, don't be embarrassed about that. I know what kind of noises you make, I know the facial expressions. Only difference is that I'm pissed instead of aroused," he stroked his hair slowly. "I love you, Ky. It's gonna be alright."
"I wish...I wish that Oliver didn't have that damn thing...I should have gotten it!" he growled angrily, staring at Kenny's abs.
"You wish that Mitch had a chance of going free?" he asked. "Kyle, that isn't the right thing. This video may win us the case."
"Oh," he laughed humorlessly, "it will. I know what the fuck's on that thing..." he sniffed and leaned into Kenny. "Ken?"
"What?" he brushed some fiery hair out of his eyes.
"Can...can I convince you not to be in the room when..." he trailed off.
He sighed and pulled him tighter. "Ky, look. I've told you, no matter what, I love you. I will as I have, alright?"
"You don't know that."
"Yes I do," he said firmly. "I'm going to be right in that room with you when this thing goes down. Okay? I'll be right there to catch you."
"You don't want to catch someone like me," he mumbled.
"Morning!" small voices called. They turned and watched as Jacob and Kayla crawled to the end of their bed and waved.
"Good morning," the boys said, separating and looking back. Ken pulled on a shirt and they walked over to the kids, each picking one up.
"You guys hungry?" Kyle asked.
"Yeah," Jacob nodded.
"Well Kyle here wants to make us breakfast, so let's go," Ken winked, taking Kayla up and out of the room with Kyle and Jacob in tow. "Morning," he shouted towards the sleeping forms in the living room.
"AH!" Stan shouted, falling off the couch and landing with a heavy thud. He groaned and rubbed his head as he sat up. "McCormick, you asshole!" he yelled groggily.
"You're just now figuring this out?" Cartman yawned with a small smirk. "The poor are always asswipes."
"Not as much the morbidly obese who try to pass themselves off as merely big-boned, Cartman," Kyle commented, walking up to the couch and placing Jacob down. He walked to the front of the couch and crouched down beside Stan, who was still rubbing his skull and muttering obscenities. "You alright?"
"Yeah, but your asshole of a fiance better watch his damn step," he muttered. Kyle laughed softly before helping him to his feet. "Come on, sit down and I'll make us some food and maybe your mood will lighten up a bit."
"Whatcha makin'?" Cartman questioned.
He looked up thoughtfully. "Eggs?"
"Yummy!" Kayla commented, hopping down from Kenny's grasp. "Can I help?!" she looked up at him with shining eyes.
He looked down at her and smiled gently. "Sure. Come on, kids," he motioned his head over towards the kitchen and they followed him into the room.
Ken sat down next to Stan and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Dude. Didn't think that you were gonna freak out like that on me."
"Whatever. You owe me," he smirked. He shot his blue eyes towards the kitchen and looked back at the blonde slowly. "Is he okay?"
He shook his head. "Not by a long shot. He really doesn't want us to see this movie."
"Why not?" Cartman asked. "Not like none of us have seen him naked before," he rolled his eyes.
"None of us have seen him completely humiliated and tortured before, though," Ken retorted. "We have to look at this from his perspective. Would you want the entire world to have access to a view of you being used as a toy? I wouldn't."
"Yeah, but it's gonna get that bastard in jail," Stan replied. "he needs to see it like that."
"You'd figure that our testimonies would be enough," he sighed. "This is just...God, it's ridiculous how much we've had to go through."
"Oliver should have just whipped out the video at the beginning and gotten it over with," Cartman groaned.
"He wanted to avoid having to use it," Stan explained. "He didn't want Kyle humiliated, but he's at the end of his rope."
"So is Kyle," Ken sniffed, putting his face in his palm and shaking his head. "I just want this goddamned thing over so we can go back to normal."
"You and Jewboy were never 'normal'," Cartman smirked.
"Fuck off."
"Not now, thanks."
"Guys, grow up," Stan shook his head.
"I'm gonna check on Kyle," Ken mumbled, getting to his feet and crossing into the kitchen. He popped his head into the inlet window, smiling as he saw his little family cooking together. He bent down and unhooked Snicker's crate, letting her venture out and go over to rub against his leg. He picked her up and scratched behind her ears gently as they watched the three others in the kitchen. Kyle placed Kayla and Jacob on either side of the stove, handing them different items.
"Crack these like this," he instructed Jacob, showing him how to break an egg and throw it into the bowl. He tried to mimic him, only getting part of the yolk into the bowl.
"Oops," he frowned apologetically.
Kyle smiled at him gently. "It takes practice. Keep trying." The boy nodded and tried again, getting most of the egg into the container.
"I did it!" he beamed.
"Awesome," he smiled wider. "Keep going, I need all of those eggs."
"What do I do?" Kayla asked excitedly.
"Once he's done, you get to stir the eggs," he explained.
She cocked her head at the utensil in her hand. "But this isn't a spoon."
"You're right," he nodded. "It's a whisk. You use it for stuff like eggs to mix them quicker because it breaks the yolk faster."
"What's a yolk?"
He pointed into the bowl. "The big yellow part is the yolk. The rest of it is called the egg whites."
"But they're clear," Jacob blinked, cracking another one and watching it drip down into the bowl.
"If you mix 'em up a lot without the yolks, they get pure white and really fluffy," he shrugged. "So they became egg whites."
"How come we don't want them fluffy?" Kayla asked.
"Because you do that for baking," he explained. "We're just fixing them as they are. The yolk gives them the color and the flavor that we want."
"Ohhhh," they nodded. He laughed softly and they watched as Jacob cracked the last one. He took the bowl from him and poured a dash of milk before handing it to Kayla with one hand still wrapped around the edge.
"Alright, take the whisk and stir," he instructed. She nodded, placing the utensil into the bowl and starting to spin it. She bit her tongue in concentration and continued to try.
"I can't do it," she whined, looking up at him sadly.
"You're doing fine," he assured her. "Here," he took the bowl. He grabbed the whisk and spun it a few times. "See? Just do this and you'll be fine," he hopped up on the counter next to her and held the bowl down to her level. She looked up at him before grasping the silver mixer in her hand and beginning to stir just as Kyle had showed her. "See? You're gettin' it," he smiled down at her. She looked back up with a large grin plastered on her face.
"I am?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "Keep it up and you'll be America's next top chef," he grinned. She giggled before returning her concentration to the bowl. Kyle's eyes flickered up and he caught Ken and Snickers staring at them and he smirked. He handed the bowl off to Kayla, who cautiously took it and continued stirring as Kyle hopped down and walked over towards the gawker. "Can I help you?" he asked sweetly.
"Yeah, heard this is a great restaurant," Ken smirked. "Best food in town."
"You heard right," he smiled, leaning on the inlet ledge. "Though I'm sorry, Sir, but we don't allow pets," he brushed his finger over Snicker's head, prompting a small meow from her.
"Are you sure? She sure seems to like ya."
"It's policy," he smirked. "She's cute, but it's not allowed."
"You're awfully cute yourself," he licked his lips. "Why do they put you back in the kitchen?"
"I'm the only one here who can cook," he raised his brow amusedly.
"You should be the one out in the front of the house. Beauty sells, ya know."
"But then who would cook?"
"Who cares?" he retorted. "I don't need a good meal, per se if I get to see you."
"Are you hitting on me, Sir?"
"Maybe," he smirked. "Am I getting anywhere?"
"Maybe," he smiled back.
"Maybe you and I could...get together sometime..." he purred.
"I don't know...," he looked around a bit, fiddling with his ring. "I'm engaged. I doubt my fiance would be too happy if I just went out with a flirtatious stranger."
"Aw, I'm sure he wouldn't mind," he smiled, looking down at him predatorily. "He probably can't take me on."
"Nah, he's pretty strong."
"Ya like 'em like that? Tough?"
"I guess," he shrugged. "He's not macho, but he protects me. That's all I need."
"He a looker?" He leaned his cheek into his palm.
Kyle raised his brow. "Eh, he's alright," he shrugged, his lips curling up a bit as he toyed with Snicker's fur. "I'm not with him for his looks, though."
"What's he got that I don't?"
"I don't know," he looked at him innocently. "I don't really know you."
"We could change that," he growled, leaning closer to him.
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm happy with what I have."
"Maybe you'd like me better," he arched his brow in challenge.
He shook his head, his hair flowing softly. "Not possible."
"How do you know?"
"I just do."
"You're smart and pretty, huh, Hotstuff?"
"He tends to tell me that," he smiled.
"So this guy treats ya alright?"
He nodded. "Yeah. He's good to me."
"No chance of you dumpin' him to go with me, huh?"
"Wouldn't leave him if you paid me."
"I'm good in bed, that lure ya in?"
"So's he," he chuckled.
"This guy is a real challenge to me, hm?"
"He's a challenge to everyone," he rolled his eyes jokingly.
"Even you?"
"Sometimes."
"What's he do?"
He shrugged. "He's a stubborn asshole sometimes, but so am I, so it evens out."
"Pretty little thing like you? You don't seem stubborn to me."
"I'm refusing you time and again, aren't I?"
"Touche," he snickered. "How old are you, Cutie?"
"Seventeen."
"Mmm, legal with consent, ya know."
"I'm not consenting, though."
"I can change that."
"Not unless you kill my fiance."
"Betcha I could."
"Then I definitely wouldn't be interested in you," he scoffed lightly.
"I think you are, but you're too sweet to let me know," he pushed a stray curl from the boy's forehead.
"I'm committed, sorry."
"How would he find out?" he cocked his head.
"He knows me too well."
"Knows everything about ya, huh?"
"Pretty damn close."
"I envy him," he smiled. "You seem like a very interesting person, Beautiful."
"Interesting? No. Complicated? Yes," he replied.
"Mmm, I don't think so," Ken shook his head. "You're sweet, intelligent, and adorable. That's not too complicated."
"You've barely scratched the surface of my persona," he replied. "Surface isn't everything."
"But it is a lot."
"Secrets are on the inside, Sir. Are secrets not what make a person a person?"
"I believe that what shows is what makes a person."
"So if someone like him," he gestured back towards Cartman who was looking back at them in confusion at their discussion with Stan, "walked in, you'd automatically assume that he was just a fat asshole who couldn't control their diet?"
"AY!"
"Would I be wrong to say that?"
"That's not the point," Kyle giggled.
"And what, Lovely, is the point then?"
"That the inside is what makes us who we are, not just what we show to outsiders."
"I'm an outsider to you?"
"You're not my subconscious, so yes."
"What about this fiance, the lucky bastard. Is he one of the outsiders as well?"
"I love him, but he's not my mind. He can't know everything about me when even I don't."
"I'm sure if you'd share with him, he'd try to understand with you. I don't know who wouldn't listen to someone so captivating as you."
"You can stop with the compliments, I already turned you down."
"Doesn't mean the compliments are any less true," he grinned. "Can I at least know your name? Or is that a secret, too?"
"Mmm...only if you tell me yours first," he said lowly.
"How come?"
"I need to know if I can trust you. Tell me your name first."
He laughed and leaned in a bit. "Kenneth James McCormick. But my friends call me Ken."
"What should I call you?"
"Dunno," he shrugged. "What name sounds better being screamed in ecstasy?"
"I wouldn't know."
He smirked. "Alright, you know my name, let's hear your full one."
"Why my full?"
"Because, first names are too commonplace. Leave an imprint on my memory, will ya?"
The redhead smiled at him. "Kyle Isaac Broflovski."
"Broflovski? Hot."
He sniggered. "No, Jewish."
"They're interchangeable," he shrugged with a smile.
"Know a lot of Jews?"
"A couple. All very sexy."
"How many is a couple?" he raised his brow.
Ken looked up at him innocently. "Okay, maybe I only know one. He's hot as fucking Hell though."
"And you kiss people with that mouth?" he blinked at him in feign shock.
"Well, not many," he purred. "Perhaps I could entice you as to increase my number?"
He looked at him, unsure. "I don't know. What if my fiance walks in? What could I tell him?"
"I grabbed you and started making out with you. You get to run to his arms and I get a kiss. Everyone wins."
He looked up thoughtfully before glancing back at him, "Maybe one," he shrugged. Ken stood and leaned over the counter, staring down at him.
"You have beautiful eyes," he growled, brushing his eyebrow with his lips. Kyle batted his lashes at him and smiled.
"Do you talk like this to every pretty boy you meet?"
"Nah, only the special ones. Lucky for me, I got my first customer right here. Kiss?"
"I'm not very good," he said shyly.
"I'll be the judge of that," he purred, leaning further and connecting their mouths.
"All that for a kiss?" Cartman shook his head in disbelief.
"Wow," Stan blinked. "Didn't think that foreplay was needed for that."
Kyle and Ken laughed softly against each other, their hands finding one another and intertwining. They pulled back and licked their lips.
"I must say that that was an excellent kiss right there," Ken winked.
Kyle blushed a bit. "He taught me everything he knows."
"How do you know it's everything?"
"Okay, he's in the process of doing so," he shrugged. "Better?"
"Sure. Wish I could be the one teachin' ya though."
"Sorry. Too late."
"It's never too late. Everyone can move on," he squeezed his fingers.
"Not me," he said softly. "I tend to have issues with letting things go."
"Well everyone has that problem at some point in time," he shrugged. "Maybe one day you'll get sick of your redneck boyfriend and look for something better."
"How do you know what he's like?"
"I look at you and I see an innocent kid looking for someone bad to offset himself."
"I'm not innocent by a long shot."
"You're a sweetie," he smiled. "You're innocent in my book."
"You don't even know half of my story, Kenneth."
"Don't wanna be my friend?"
"I like sounding authoritative. Sometimes you have to be to keep the peace."
"True," he nodded. "Your hick of a fiance teach you that? He authoritative to ya?"
"Never. He's good to me, I told you."
"You sayin' that to avoid a beating or speakin' the truth?"
"The truth. He'd never lay a hand on me like that."
"How do you know?" he asked softly, slowly losing character. "How do you know he won't turn into a pissed off, drunken moron like his parents probably were?"
Kyle looked at him for a moment before his expression melted into sympathy. "Because I know him better than that. He's too kind for that kind of stuff."
"Thought you said surface doesn't matter."
"I know past his surface better than he seems to think," Kyle replied firmly. "I know him probably better than I know myself. He doesn't act like that."
Ken smiled up at him. "Insightful, too? You're just a pretty package, aren't you?"
"Wrappers conceal nothing more than thinly painted cardboard boxes set to be ripped apart and destroyed by the owners."
"And opened to something wonderful," Ken finished, stroking his hand with his thumb. "You have something inside of you that's beautiful and sweet and smart. Secrets don't completely overshadow your personality."
Kyle blinked at him before smiling back. "You seem insightful yourself, Stranger."
"You still consider me a stranger?"
"You're not him and you're not me. I think that I have to," he smirked.
"Got friends?"
Kyle's eyes flickered to their observers and he smirked still. "A few."
"They strangers?"
"They don't know me that well. So I probably don't know them well, either."
"Maybe you're just more secretive than others."
"That's a true statement," he nodded. "I have a lot to hide. I'm not the best person to get involved with."
"Secrets don't matter. If this fiance is anything worth your time, he'd focus on what you share rather than what you hide. I'm sure he has secrets all his own."
"You think so?"
"We all do," he said simply. "Some are bigger than others, but they affect us the same. All we can do is hold onto ourselves and whoever means the most to us to make it through. I hope this guy of yours will be with you throughout everything if you have to confront it."
"He told me he would be."
"And I'm sure he means it. If he's worth anything, it won't matter what your secrets are. He'd be a fucking idiot to let someone like you go."
Kyle smiled sweetly at him, his eyes flickering away from him for a moment and he chuckled. "Ya know...you've been here ten minutes. You haven't ordered any food."
"Maybe I didn't come in for food," he replied softly. "Maybe I wanted the pleasure of your company."
"And now that you've had it?"
"I'm gonna ask for another kiss. Whaddya say?"
"Two kisses are only for paying customers," he smirked. Ken took his wallet from off the corner of the inlet and smacked it down.
"That enough?"
"I guess," he smiled, leaning up and initiating the kiss. Ken smiled against his mouth and ran his fingers through the scarlet hair. He nibbled on the boy's bottom lip and they locked eyes. Kyle still look tired and worried, but little flecks of rose could be seen within the bothered green gaze. Ken pulled back and smiled gently at him.
"I love you."
"Right back at you," he smiled back. They leaned forward and met foreheads, their noses resting against each other. Ken stared down at the inlet ledge with mixed feelings. He knew what he said was true, that Kyle's secrets could never tear them apart. However, that didn't cease his curiosity. What was so damn secret that Kyle couldn't even share it with him of all people? His eyes fluttered up and met with Kyle's again and he smiled reassuringly, maybe just as much for himself as for Kyle. This was nothing more than a moment leading to the inevitable. Leading to a point where Kyle's ordeal would be laid out on the table for himself and everyone else to see.
Whether or not that was for the best, he had yet to figure out. That was for the day to decide.
He opened his eyes to find himself with the others outside the courthouse, each looking more anxious than the last. They all rounded the corner up the front of the establishment and sighed.
"Where are the reporters?" Cartman asked, looking around confusedly.
"Probably just getting ready to keep on with their notes," Oliver answered. "Come on," he motioned for them to follow. They trailed his lead into the house, making their way up front.
"Hey, boys," Wendy called as she, Red, Bebe, and Butters all stood and walked up to them. Her hazel eyes flickered down and widened in surprise. "Kids?"
"Um...they're ours," Kyle rubbed his neck sheepishly, motioning between himself and Ken.
They looked at the boys in shock. "You adopted kids already?" she whispered in disbelief.
"We found them on the street a few months back," Ken explained. "They're orphans. They hung out with us for awhile before they got sent to the orphanage."
"When we got engaged, we decided that we'd take 'em back," Kyle shrugged. "We got kinda attached. They're not a handful and they don't cost a shitload of money. So we adopted 'em."
Bebe knelt down with Wendy and they smiled at the kids. "What's your names?" she asked.
"Kayla."
"Jacob."
"Aw, how cute," Red smiled.
"I'm Wendy," the raven-haired girl started. "This is Bebe, Red, and Butters."
"Butters?" Kayla giggled. "That's a silly name."
"He's real name is Leopold," Ken smirked. "I think Butters is a step up."
"I agree," Bebe nodded, standing and kissing said boy's cheek.
Butters chuckled lightly. "Whatever you say. Either one makes me sound like we're still in elementary school."
"Wish we were," Ken said dreamily.
"Why?" Cartman blinked.
"I dunno. Just do. No bills for one thing," he chuckled as they headed towards the front of the room to meet up with Oliver who had gone ahead.
"Do you really think it's a good idea for these kids to be in here during this trial?" Bebe asked.
"They'll fall asleep," Damien responded. "They're almost as lazy as Ken, and they're not even related," he rolled his eyes.
Ken smacked his shoulder. "I do more than you, Asshole."
"Oh please," he smirked.
"All rise for the honorable Judge Ruth Michaels," the bailiff started.
"Shit," Ken murmured, handing the kids off to the girls and speed walking with Kyle to their seats. They turned and watched as the judge made her way down the aisle and up to her bench.
"Good afternoon," she smiled. "Be seated. This third day of Mitchell Derrick vs the state of Colorado is now in session," she banged her gavel. "We left off with the Broflovskis, yes?"
"Yes," Gerald nodded.
"Alright," she nodded back. "Kyle Broflovski, if you'll please retake the stand."
He sighed and Ken squeezed his hand reassuringly with a smile. Kyle shot him a small one back before getting to his feet and making his way back up front. "Do you swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"
"Yeah." he took his hand from the bible and made his way into the plush chair, sighing softly to himself. Gerald stood and moved in front of him.
"Kyle."
"Gerald."
"Kyle, what did you just do?"
He raised his brow. "Said your name?"
"No, before you sat down, Kyle."
"Uh...took my vows?"
"How important are those vows to you, Kyle?"
"Important enough," he shrugged. "I know better than to lie."
"Oh really?" he cocked his head. "You lied for years about being a homosexual, did you not?"
"No one asked. Once Ken brought it up I told him."
"Why didn't you just tell someone from the start?"
"Because this is a small town and everything around here spreads like a goddamn wildfire," he retorted. "Besides, coming out is a really big deal. Especially because at first you have no idea how you're supposed to feel."
"Confusion?"
"It's a complete battle with oneself," he sighed. "It's a really frustrating time."
"As you were stuck in sexuality limbo, what did you do to cope?"
"What do you mean?"
"Did you cut yourself?"
"No," he shook his head. "I just kinda...withdrew into myself. My thoughts became more self-evaluating than anything else. Eventually that led me to come to terms with the fact that I was gay and that I had a crush on Ken. Then more of my thoughts led me to believer that I could never have him, so I started cutting and doing all the other stupid shit that I did."
"Would you say that self-evaluation is a strong point of yours?"
"You mean judging myself to the extremes? Yeah, I guess."
"What was going through your mind on the night of the accused abduction and rape, Kyle?"
He paused for a moment, staring at his father. "What was going through my mind?" he repeated. "Well for starters, 'ow, ow, ow. They're fucking hurting me'. That was a big thought I had. Um, we also have the 'what the fuck did I do to deserve this?' the 'I hate them, I hate them, I hate them...'"
"But what did you think about yourself?"
"Why wasn't I strong enough to fend them off? Why was I so tiny and weak? How did they know exactly how to play my buttons?...I asked myself a lot of things that night. Like why did they choose me? Was it just impulse or what?..." he sighed. "I dunno," he said softly. "When I'm scared, I think. And I was fucking terrified. I got my mind to zone out for a bit, but they made me start thinking again and everything just went haywire. I had too many thoughts for anything to be comprehensible aside from the fact that I was completely at their mercy."
"And you didn't fight back?"
"I'm weak. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't have fended them off. Everyone's said it, I'm just too damn tiny to cause a lot of damage to people three times my size. Besides, I wanted Ken safe."
"You thought the only way to do that was to bend over?"
"Yes. I didn't know what they were capable of. So I just played their game."
"How long did this game of theirs last, Kyle?"
"Four hours at least."
"Four hours. And you didn't scream for help or anything?"
"I screamed all I could," he muttered, looking at his feet and sniffling.
"What do you mean all you could?"
He continued staring at the floor. "They usually had a gag on me, a hand, or there was a cock shoved down my throat. I couldn't do much."
There was a small pause before Gerald regained his vigor. "Two men. They were both holding you down, I'm supposing?"
Kyle looked back up at him and shrugged. "Sometimes. Sometimes it was only one of them. Sometimes my arms were tied up, sometimes they weren't."
"Why didn't you fight back when your arms weren't tied and there was only one of them?"
"Because it's hard to fight when they're holding you into the ground and shoving themselves into your ass," he muttered, avoiding eye contact.
"Did they ever let you off the hook for a bit then?"
"In a way. They'd throw me down and usually tie my arms and gag me before throwing me aside so they could rest a bit."
"What did you do then, Kyle?"
"I'd pray," he said, looking back at his father.
"Pray?"
"I...I knew that no physical being could help me. No one knew where we were. No one could hear me screaming or them hitting me...I-I didn't know what else to do. So I prayed for God to help me."
"And do you think He answered your prayers?"
He shook his head slowly. "No. He either sat back and watched with popcorn or just ignored me altogether. I just had to wait it out."
"What were you expecting to happen, Kyle? Did you think that he would come down himself and rescue you?"
"No. I thought he'd...send help. Tell Stan that I was in danger. Have a K9 unit sniff us out. I don't know what I thought. I just thought that maybe he could give me some strength. I knew that I wasn't getting out that easily, but I needed help before I lost my mind, so I kept talking to him. Kept praying that he would explain to me why he was doing so."
"Did you ever come to conclusions about the alleged incident? Did it affect your faith in any way?"
He nodded. "I came to the conclusion that God is an asshole."
A small gasp elicited from the audience as the small Jew leaned back in his chair. Ken looked over, seeing Sheila shaking her head and muttering to herself as Ike looked on interestedly at his brother.
"E-explain that," Gerald stammered in shock.
"I think...I think he was testing me. It was so soon after my suicide...maybe He thought that I needed a test to make sure that I wouldn't test the waters of death again. I don't know. But no loving god would submit someone to that kind of cruel and unusual torture. It's just wrong. Any god who does that is not by definition divine in my book."
Ken's eyes flickered to Damien, who was leaning back and grinning smugly. He gave the blonde a thumbs up and Ken just rolled his eyes, turning to watch the little redhead once more.
"So...you lost faith."
"Not necessarily," he sighed. "I...I just don't think that He controls everything I do and He won't help me even when I need Him the most. I think He just makes us and then throws us down to Earth to battle for ourselves. I still wish he would've helped me, but obviously He has better things to do with His time."
"Did you do anything besides pray?"
"I tried to make sense of the situation. But that didn't go too well. I was disoriented."
"Oh really? How so?"
"You try being fucked for hours and beaten and you tell me just how comprehensible your thoughts are at that point," he replied dryly.
"Did you tell them that you wanted out?"
"Of course I did, what a stupid question," he rolled his eyes. "I fucking begged them to let us go."
"And how did they react?"
"Threw me into a wall and raped me some more. 'Silly me. How could I think that I'd escape?'" he mocked. "I was their toy for the time and they wanted to make sure that I knew it."
"Did you?"
He blinked at him before sighing. "I guess so, yes. I did what they told me and I took what they gave me. I became their little object."
"Kyle, you've spun a pretty story for us so far, but one question remains: how did you get out?"
"Barney and Mitch left. The keys were on the table. I grabbed them and dragged Ken out of there."
"Just...left?"
"I was unconscious. I think that they thought I was dead and necrophilia wasn't their thing."
"How'd you go unconscious?"
"Too much going on, I guess. I just...lost it."
"You're always portrayed as this symbol of self-control, though," he raised his brow. "This seems like a bit of a farfetched tale for someone like that."
Kyle's brows furrowed. "Self control doesn't apply here!"
"Why not? Why couldn't you just deal with it and move on afterwards?" he pressed harder.
"It's really hard to cope with four dicks flopping in your face, Gerald!" he stood and shouted at him.
A long and awkward pause filled the small courtroom. "Four?" he repeated.
Kyle looked taken aback and blinked. "What?"
"You said four...uh 'dicks'," he cleared his throat.
Kyle's face paled. "I-I meant two."
"But you said four."
"But I MEANT two!" he insisted, shaking with widened eyes.
Ken blinked at him before his gaze fell over to Mitch, who was grasping at his hair and shaking his head down towards the table. He looked back up at his lover, who looked to be nearing hyperventilation.
"So, you can't keep a number straight, who to say you can keep this story straight?"
"I-I meant to say two!" he insisted again. "I just misspoke!"
"I think the defense rests," he smirked, walking back to his seat. Oliver slowly stood and made his way over to Kyle. He leaned up towards him and muttered something with a sigh. Kyle sat back down, shaking uncontrollably.
"Your honor," Oliver started with a sigh. "I have no questions to ask of Kyle. He's told us all he can...however if it pleases the court...I have something that can wrap this case up for us."
Ruth leaned down and peered at him. "What are you talking about?"
He walked over to his bag and pulled out a videotape. "This was a video shot on April 13th of 2009, your honor. This is a full depiction of Ken's position, of Kyle's rape and torture. Of the men who did it. This is everything. Right. Here."
"Why did you not present this earlier?" Ruth asked.
"Because, your honor, I had Kyle's dignity to think about. This is unedited. Every inch of skin, every scream...it's all here. I was hoping that we could avoid this; that we could just present what little we had and call it a day. I can see that...we're not on the winning side. And Kyle...Kyle just opened this case wide open with just a misspeak."
"How so?" she cocked her brow.
"Approximately two hours after Kyle first arrived to the shack in which Barney and Mitch had the boys, two other men, friends of theirs, showed up. They played part in hurting Kyle just as much. One of them brought their video camera. Apparently this was not an uncommon occurrence among Barney and Mitch. This wasn't a first time rape, but it was probably the most brutal."
"How do you figure that?" she asked.
"These men? They're pimps, your honor. They usually raped their...workers. Made sure they could handle it rough or something of the sort. But Kyle...Kyle was new game for them all. He was an innocent plucked off the streets by the matters of his looks. These men weren't used to hearing 'no', so they decided that nothing was going to stop them from getting what they wanted. So they took Ken, held him for ransom, and brought Kyle along."
"Why did they make a tape?"
"It says in here..." he sighed. "I'm well aware that our case isn't until we cycle through his witnesses, but this is just a clear-cut case with this tape, your honor. If it pleases the court, I would like to play it."
The judge looked at Gerald. "Mr. Broflovski, would you object to this?"
He looked from her, to the tape, to Mitch, and back to her. "I suppose not. I'm aware what the reaction of this court will be should I prolong their evidence."
"Very well. Mr. Dodson, go ahead."
"Hold on," he said, looking out into the audience. "Per Kyle's request, I would like some of you to leave. Judge, is that alright?"
She nodded, "Kyle, go ahead and list them."
He sighed. "Girls...take the kids and stay out...please?"
They looked at him and gulped before nodding, gathering Jacob and Kayla and trying to lead them out. Kayla broke away and ran up front past the bailiff and leapt into his arms. "You okay?" she asked, clinging onto him desperately.
"Yeah," he nodded, kissing her head. "Go on. We'll get you some ice cream later, okay?"
She kissed his cheek before Wendy came up and took her from his arms. "I love you," Kayla smiled before Wendy smiled with her, taking her out of the room. Kyle watched after them with shock outlining his features.
"Kyle?" Oliver prodded.
He blinked a bit. "Oh...right." he looked out towards the other side of the audience and sighed. "Mom...Ike...get out."
"I will do no such thing!"
"Ma, please," he pled.
"No, Kyle," she said firmly. He bit his lip and exhaled shakily.
"Fine. Ike. You HAVE to go."
"Why?"
"Because I told you to and I know how to wedgie you until you cry until next week, Ike! Now go!" he trembled with saddened eyes and Ike slowly nodded and stood up.
"Good luck," Ken saw him mouth before he turned on his heel and walked out behind the girls.
"Kyle, is there anyone else?" the judge asked. He looked up at her and back down and sniffed.
"Yes. But they wouldn't leave," he looked towards the group of boys in the front sadly.
"We can't force people out who wish to witness justice."
"I know," he mumbled.
"Mr. Dodson, go ahead," she nodded.
"This is the last call," he warned. "As I said, this is completely unedited. Nothing is hidden from sight. If you can't handle things like this, I suggest you leave now." He looked around, finding everyone glued to their seats, sans Kyle, who was fidgeting around nervously.
"I will say now that any snide remarks will result in immediate expulsion from this court, are we all clear?" Ruth asked of them. They all nodded softly. "Good. Proceed."
Oliver patted Kyle's shoulder before walking over to the tape player that projected onto a larger screen on the side of the room. "Lights, please," he called. The bailiff flicked off the light switch and the tape began with the traditional blue screen. He pressed play and all of a sudden, a road came into view along with husky laughter.
"-hy always there though?" a voice asked from beyond the camera.
"'Cuz Barney owns it. No one comes there without good reason, Trent, you idiot."
"Don't call me an idiot, it was a question," the camera fell on a tall, burly man with short, curly black hair and mocha eyes. "What's with the camera, Richie?"
"Figured we could use it as a demonstration. Teach our girls what happens should they say no to anybody," he snickered.
Ken paused. He knew that voice. He squinted in concentration before realizing that it was the third man from the attack on himself and Kyle not long before all this happened.
"Is this one of Mitch's kids?"
"Nah, he's some little pest we found a few nights ago," Rich responded. "He knocked us all away, so we decided he needed a lesson."
"Awesome," he chuckled darkly. "He could learn a lot from us."
"Exactly." the camera swooped back up, approaching a broken down house. The momentary expanded view showed a sign marked 53rd and Grape right outside the rickety shack.
"What a pigsty," Trent commented. "Never gets old coming here and realizing that I have it better."
"It's not like Barn lives here, you moron," Rich cracked. "It's just where we take our girls for their lessons."
"This kid isn't a girl, though."
"Eh, he's small enough to be one," he laughed. They approached the door and Rich laughed. "Watch this," he whispered. He banged loudly on the door, "POLICE!" he shouted, throwing it open into the room.
"Jesus Christ, you asshole," Barney's voice became apparent. The camera focused on him and Mitch sitting in folding chairs by a small table smoking and with shot glasses in front of them. "I oughta bust your ass for that."
"I'm terrified," he replied, shutting the door and locking it behind him.
"That wasn't cool, Rich," Mitch took a drink. "You almost gave the kid hope."
"Poor thing," Trent fake-cooed. "Where is the little buddy?" They pointed towards a back corner and the camera followed their gesture, coming across a pale, naked form curled up as small as possible.
"Aww, he's shy," Rich snickered.
"Go introduce yourself, he'll be better," Barn smirked. "Kylie," he called. "You have visitors."
The camera walked with Richard and Trent up to the small body. He kept his head down and was shaking just slightly. Trent cupped his chin, bringing his face up to reveal Kyle's shocking green eyes glistening, tear stains running clearly down his reddened cheeks. A piece of duct tape was secured over his lips, a small trail of blood going from his nose over the silver tape that matched the band binding his arms together behind him.
"Hi there," Trent cooed. "Are you the toy today?"
Kyle's eyes dropped away and he shook heavier.
"Don't be shy," Richard played with some of his hair. "You're very pretty."
The Jew's eyes widened and he tried to sink back into the wall before Trent yanked him forward. "Hey, hey, hey," he lectured. "No running from us." He stroked the rouge cheek before pushing him back against the wall and leaning into him. He licked a fresh tear running down his cheek and Kyle let out a small frightened whine, his eyes slammed shut.
Richard shot the camera up towards Mitch and Barney, who were watching in interest. "Can we play?"
"Sure," Mitch chuckled. The camera went flying through the air and was caught by Barney, judging by the lens' perspective. The camera watched as the men drug Kyle out into the middle of the floor and threw him forward. He crashed headfirst, slowly sitting up on his knees and looking up at the men pleadingly. Bruises and blood was shown more profoundly upon his pale frame, the result of hours of endless abuse, no doubt.
"He's small, ain't he?" Richard commented, stroking his hair lightly.
"Not everywhere," Trent smirked, grabbing his exposed cock. Kyle squeaked in pain and tried to close off his legs away from him. Trent leaned down and nibbled on his ear lightly. Kyle's chest erratically rose and fell as he was coaxed down onto his back. Richard held his shoulders down and Kyle cried in pain as the pressure increased. Trent undid his jeans and grasped his cock, slowly pumping it and getting it ready as he bit down on Kyle time and again, eliciting small yelps and sniffs to escape the trapped boy.
"Makin' friends everywhere, aren't you, Kyle?" Mitch laughed from beside the camera. Kyle yelled and tried to wriggle his way out of their hold.
"Hold still," Rich ordered, hitting him across the cheek. Kyle cried out and let out a soft sob as Trent positioned himself at his entrance. The words 'don't', 'no', and 'please' rang clearly from beyond the gray tape. He let out a shrill cry as Trent slammed into him, the sound of his balls slapping against his thigh echoing in the small room. He started sobbing as Trent thrust into him harshly, his back and captured arms scraping against the concrete floor. Richard moved and grasped the tape, ripping it off of his mouth. He screeched in pain before once again being reduced to soft, rapid sobs as Trent continued to drive into him.
Suddenly, the man pulled out and flipped him over onto his knees. He looked up to find Rich's cock in his face. "Come on...," he urged, smearing his precum across Kyle's bloody lips. He pursed his mouth defiantly, only to open it to gasp as Trent slammed back into him. Rich dove into his mouth and choked him, tears spilling down his pale face. Trent grabbed his hair and held on tightly, his fingers threading roughly in the Jew's glowing curls as he continued thrusting. Richard did the same rhythm from his end, Kyle merely taking what they gave to him. He gagged around the skin flying in and out of his throat, a trail of drool starting to cascade down his chin, co-mingling with the tears dripping down his face.
"Tight, ain't he?" Barney laughed.
"Jesus Christ, yes," Trent breathed. "He a virgin or what?"
"Well definitely not anymore," Mitch snickered from the edge.
"Rich, pull out for a sec," Trent nodded. The other man pulled his cock away from Kyle and he coughed a few times, spitting out excess saliva and god knows what else. Trent's grip tightened in his hair and he yanked him up vertically, pulling his back into his clothed chest. Kyle let out soft groans as his speed increased and his hand moved from his hair to hold him around the throat. "Open...," he coaxed, tightening his hold on his neck. The boy's mouth opened slightly before he was invaded by Rich's cock once more. The camera zoomed in on the three, accentuating Kyle's beet red face and shiny tears. It panned downwards, focusing on Trent's cock slamming into him and his small fists clenching in pain. Trent's free hand grasped onto the Jew's hip, leaving crescent-moon markings on the pale skin along an array of other mars surrounding that area.
The entire room sat and watched in horror as this played out for minutes on end. Ken broke his view away from the screen, looking up at Kyle, who was shaking and hiding his face down on the banister in front of the stand.
He took off his sports coat and grabbed his chair before walking up towards him.
"Mr. McCormick?" Ruth asked softly. He merely nodded at her before making his way over and placing his chair next to Kyle's. She nodded back and turned back to the screen. Ken threw his coat over the trembling boy's shoulders, sitting down next to him and gently rubbing his back. Kyle looked up at him, sniffing lightly. Ken scooted closer and pulled him into his chest, gently stroking his hair and kissing his head softly, trying to ignore the sounds emitting from the tape. Kyle nuzzled into him and clasped his shirt tightly, seeming terrified to let go. Ken rested his chin on the mess of curls below him, diverting his eyes back to the screen.
Trent's rhythm became much more jarred and random, his grip seeming to tighten on Kyle's throat. Richie noticed and laughed softly, pulling away from Kyle and slapping his cheek with his cock. He grabbed him and pulled him away from Trent, who moved his hand to stroke his own length. Rich whipped Kyle around and forced his face towards the floor, pushing his mouth onto the end of Trent's member. A few quick strokes was all it took before Trent's hips arched up into Kyle's mouth and he released. He stayed as such before he was drained, finally pushing Kyle up back onto his knees. He slammed his hand over Kyle's mouth and smirked.
"Swallow." Kyle made a gulping motion and he pulled his hand off, leaning in towards the boy. "You're pretty special. Getting the attention of four guys like us?" he snickered. "So many girls would kill to be in your position right now. Consider yourself lucky."
Kyle's brows furrowed before he leaned back a bit before flying his head forward, spitting a large gob of spooge into Trent's face. He breathed heavily and shakily, a mess pouring down his chin.
Mitch, Barney, and Rich all broke into laughter as Trent groaned in disgust and tried to get it out of his eyes.
"Looks like Kyle's got a problem with your phrasing," Mitch chortled.
Trent wiped off the remains and scowled, getting to his feet. "Get up," he ordered.
"N-no...," Kyle said in a quavering tone.
"What was that?" Richie asked, standing beside Trent and looking down at him amusedly.
"I...said...no," he gasped out. Trent clucked his tongue and shook his head before reaching down and grabbing his hair, yanking him to his feet as he cried out in pain.
"Did you just refuse us?" he cocked his head. "It sure sounded like it."
"Stop," he pled, trying to wrench out of his grasp. Mitch entered the shot and stood behind Kyle, grasping his arms tightly and leaning his head over his pale shoulder.
"I thought we went over this," he growled lowly, running his fingertips around his collarbone. "You do what we tell you, do you understand?"
"Fuck you!" he screamed, trying to rip away from him, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. "Just let go!"
"Nah...," he said, trailing his fingers along the back of his neck. "This is too much fun for us, Pretty boy." He took a knife from out his pocket and slashed off the tape bounding his wrists. He ripped off the remains and threw them across the room. Trent grabbed both his wrists and smirked at him.
"I think that punishment is in order, don't you think so?" Barney interjected from behind the camera.
"Oh yes," Rich laughed. Kyle looked between the four of them fearfully before a knife appeared at his throat.
"Walk," Mitch smirked, poking him with the blade. The camera got up and started following as Trent led him forward as he tried to pull the rest of his body back enough so as not to collide with the knife.
"Let go!" he repeated angrily.
"We will in a minute, Red," Mitch assured him. They walked past Ken's unconscious form slumped in the chair, the gag still secured tightly across his mouth.
Ken looked up at the judge, who was jotting down notes in front of her. His view shifted towards Gerald, who was biting his knuckle anxiously, conversing with Mitch through a paper they slid between the two of them.
The men led Kyle over to a metal pipe running along the ceiling.
"Here," Barney called out before a pair of handcuffs flew into view. Trent caught them and secured one around Kyle's left wrist.
"Raise your arms," he directed.
"No!"
Mitch sighed and dug the knife into his throat. "Just do it, will ya?" He set his eyes on the ground, his jaw set defiantly. Trent growled and yanked his arms up himself, securing the cuffs over the pipe. Kyle tried to gain solid ground, finding that the pipe was just high enough that he had to stand on his toes to have any chance of keeping his shoulders in their sockets. He tugged on his bindings, finding that he was trapped.
He groaned and tried to break away anyways, the metal digging into his skin. Rich disappeared as he bent down onto the floor before reappearing with Kyle's boxers in his hand. He smirked and balled them up as Trent pried the redhead's jaw open. He shoved them deep into Kyle's mouth, causing him to cough a few times from the sudden intrusion on his throat.
Barney approached him with the camera and chuckled. "Comfy, Kylie?" Kyle's jade eyes slowly raised into the camera, tinging with fury and humiliation. Trent and Rich backed away with Barney, watching as Mitch circled him predatorily, trailing the blade across his skin.
"Say sorry," he ordered in a purring voice. Kyle just furrowed his brow at him before dropping his view to the ground again. Mitch sighed before slapping his cheek, a loud smack echoing around the space. "Look at me." The spot began glowing red as Kyle raised his head to meet stares with the man. "Say you're sorry," he repeated.
"No," he mumbled from behind the gag.
"Do it," Trent nodded at Mitch. The man nodded back before placing the blade to Kyle's hip and digging down, dragging it down to his upper thigh. Kyle screeched and shuddered as the blood began trailing down his leg.
"Come on, Kyle," Mitch growled. He shook his head no, firmly standing in place.
Rich walked up and cupped his chin, forcing his gaze upwards before smirking and landing a blow into his stomach. Kyle's eyes bugged and he gasped for air, his legs seeming to give out from under him. He went out of view for a moment as the camera was handed to Trent for Barney to walk over with the other two.
He grasped Kyle's face and smirked before lightly kissing his temple. He hit his shoulder blade with an audible thudding sound before smacking Kyle's ass and probing him with his finger. Kyle groaned and squirmed trying to break off of the pipe. Barney removed his finger and grasped Kyle's right thigh, lifting it high off the ground. Mitch smirked and ran his blade on the inside of the limb, ending the mark just beside Kyle's manhood. The young Jew's eyes rolled back as he half-sobbed in pain. Mitch leaned forward and kissed his neck, trailing his tongue along his jugular. His knife moved to Kyle's back and quickly swiped down, followed by a shrill shriek from the hostage. The knife continued slashing in quick, small motions in different areas around his back and the back of his thighs.
Richard ran his hand along his back before bring up his fingers, coated in a thin veiling of blood. He smacked Kyle across the face, branding him with the staining crimson. "Apologize," he ordered, taking the gag from Kyle's mouth.
He gasped for air a few times before his gaze fell back down and his chest heaved. "I'm sorry...," he whispered, shaking his head slowly.
"You know what's funny?" Trent asked.
"What?" Barney replied.
"I don't remember what the hell we're making him apologize for," he sniggered.
"Me neither, but damn this is fun," Mitch chuckled. "Aww, he's a mess, look at him." he smirked. The camera moved with Trent to come along to Kyle's backside, covered in several inch-long slashes and blood pouring from them. The camera shifted back to his face, fresh with tears; his cheeks matching the crimson cascading down his back.
"Shakin' like a rattle, too," Rich laughed.
"Please...," he choked out. "Please...."
"Please?" Barney cocked his head.
"Stop...please stop...," he cried, the saline water pouring from off his face down his neck.
"He did say please," Trent smirked.
"Well I guess that means we should," Mitch chuckled, reaching up and uncuffing his left wrist. Kyle's legs gave out and he fell to the ground, the camera following him. He tried to move his hands to gain some ground, slipping on his jeans. A gentle scraping sound was heard as the jeans slid on the floor.
"What was that?" Rich asked.
"Cell phone, probably," Mitch muttered, picking up his discarded jeans and reaching into the right pocket. He pulled out a small electronic device and raised his brow. "What the fuck is this?"
Barney grabbed it and cocked his head. "A glucometer?" he looked down at the boy on his knees. "You a diabetic, Kylie?"
He just stared at the floor, shaking heavily.
"He asked you a question," Trent growled, kicking him in the side.
He gasped as he fell down onto his side and curled up into himself before nodding softly.
The camera panned back up to Barney, who looked between him and the glucometer with slitted eyelids. He looked up at Trent and Richard. "Start the shower. We gotta clean him up."
"Already?" Mitch asked.
"Yeah," he nodded. "Go get it."
"Righto," Trent saluted, walking off into a separate room with Rich following suit. A small bathroom came into view, containing a medium-sized bath at the far end. They walked over and Trent switched it on, sitting on the edge of the tub rim.
"What the hell crawled up Barn's ass?"
"Fuck if I know," Rich sighed. "He's on his period or something. I didn't even get a chance, goddammit," he growled.
"I'm sure you will," Trent snorted. The camera zoomed over as Mitch came dragging Kyle into the room.
"Stop...," he pled, trying to break out of his grip. "No!"
"Come on, Kyle," he growled pushing him back into Rich's grasp.
"No, no don't!" he screamed. Richard pushed him into the tub and held him down by his neck. The steaming water beat on his cuts and he gave a high pitched whine and crossed his arms, bending down at the waistline and sobbing. "It hurts!" he cried.
Trent let out a low whistle. "I can imagine."
"Let me out!" he tried to struggle up and out of the tub. Richard sighed.
"Hold him for a second," he motioned to Trent. He came up, holding the camera still, and pushed on Kyle's back. Richard tore off his clothes, climbing into the tub behind him and regaining his control on the boy. He pushed him into the wall opposite the shower head and held him as he sobbed.
"Trent, c'mon," Mitch motioned. The camera left Kyle and Richard to follow Mitch out of the room.
"What's up?" he asked, approaching Barney, who was looking at the ground with his brow furrowed, looking at the glucometer in his hand.
"Something...something's not right here," he looked up and bit his lip. "This kid should be dead...or at least in a coma or something."
"Why?" Mitch asked.
"This says his blood sugar's at 23. If he's a diabetic especially...he should've been long since passed out."
"Maybe he's holding on for Kenny's sake or something," Mitch shrugged.
"It doesn't matter how much you want to hold on if you're beheaded. You're going to die if you're going to die. He should have been long gone."
"Why'd you check his sugar?" Trent asked.
"He was shaking a bunch. I didn't know if it was fear or a stage of diabetic shock," he shrugged.
Mitch snorted. "Why the concern for his well being all of a sudden?"
"Because how affected he is can increase our chances of getting caught you idiot," he rolled his eyes. "If he falls into a coma from his blood sugar, he'll go to the hospital. Then the doctors will find the marks, then he'll probably tell them what happened. We have to be at least somewhat pre-cautious."
Mitch froze up slightly. "You...you think?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "We need to get him and Ken the fuck out of here. We need to destroy the evidence." They turned their heads as they heard a shrill cry from the bathroom. They ran in, finding Rich holding Kyle down with his head in the water, thrusting into him roughly.
Kyle's fingers scraped uselessly on the porcelain wall in front of him, trying to fight for air. He raised his head and coughed for air. "Stop!" he said before being pushed back down.
"Rich, ease up," Trent instructed. "We can't have him closer to a seizure." Rich cocked his brow, but nodded and loosened up on him, allowing his head to come back and break the surface. He pressed him up into the wall, hitting into him harshly. Kyle just whimpering brokenly, his cheek pressed against the wall, rubbing against the side of the material in time with his thrusts.
Rich grabbed onto him tightly and let out a long groan as he released, the evidence pouring down onto the inside of Kyle's marked thighs. He pulled out of him and ruffled the boy's hair. "All clean," he smirked.
Barney sighed and stepped between Trent and Mitch towards the tub, peeling off his jacket and placing it on the toilet beside the bath. "Come on, Red," he stated. Kyle looked up at him fearfully as Richard stepped out and turned the water off. The man reached down and grasped his arm, hoisting him up onto his feet. He pulled him up and over the tub rim and set him on the tiled floor, kneeling down beside him and grabbing the towel from beside him.
"What?" he blinked at the boy, who was half-smirking at him. The camera fell beside them and watched as Kyle shook with what seemed to be dead laughter. He leaned up and whispered something into Barney's ear before pulling back and laughing shakily.
"What'd he say?" Richard asked, pulling his clothes back on.
Barney blinked at Kyle and then at the men. "He's delusional. We need to get him the fuck out of here before something happens." He pulled a bottle out of his pocket and waved it in front of Kyle. "Do you see this?"
He nodded softly.
"This is makeup. You're going to cover the bruises and keep them covered, do you understand?" Kyle didn't respond.
"Answer!" Mitch yelled. Kyle sniffled and nodded again. Mitch threw his boxers at him and sighed. "Guys, meeting," he jerked his head out towards the door.
"Dry off and get dressed. You can come get your jeans and shirt when you're done," Barney muttered before he and Trent stood and followed Mitch and Richard out of the room.
"What's up, Mitch?" Trent asked, the camera now dangling from his hand by the neck strap lazily.
"We're in deep shit, you realize that?" he said.
"Look, he's still conscious," Barney stated. "He knows that if he goes to the hospital and people find things out, we're going right back for his little lover over there," his hand was seen gesturing to Ken across from the camera's view.
"But what if he does go unconscious?" Mitch asked. "I'm not going to fucking jail for this."
"You won't," Trent sighed.
"Look, I think there's only one solution for this."
"What?" Richard asked.
There was a brief pause. "I say we kill him," he stated simply.
Ken's eyes widened as he looked over at Mitch, who was staring at Kyle from across the room. He narrowed his eyes at the man and growled. Kyle merely hid his face into the blonde's chest, sniffling.
"Please don't hate me."
"I don't," he assured him, kissing him lightly. "I love you so much."
"Please...please don't...," he repeated, breathing softly into his form. Ken pulled him in closer and wrapped his arms around him.
"Oh, because that'll make this situation better," Trent commented.
"It will."
"Mitch, how the fuck do you think that we could cover something like that up?" Barney asked impatiently, his arms being seen crossed in the corner of the screen.
"Blame it on Blondes."
"How? How would anyone believe that?"
"Look, this is really simple," he started. "Kyle is small. Ken could very easily be held accountable if he dies, right?"
"True." Trent said.
"After all, it's always the lover they accuse first, right?"
"Yeah," Rich agreed.
"But how does that cover Kenny's wounds?" Barney questioned.
"Defensive," he replied simply. "Kyle was fighting for his life."
"No one is going to believe that. Not one person will be able to think that someone Kyle's size did all that to Kenny," Barn sighed.
"That's why we fill Blondie there with alcohol," he reached over and grasped something before it fell to his waist and was revealed as a bottle of gin. "Drunks can't always fight back the best. He'll wake up with alcohol in the system and stumble around looking for Kyle. He'll go to police and report him missing. The police will note that he was intoxicated and they'll start being suspicious of him."
"What would we do with the body?" Trent interrupted.
"I say we stab him a bunch. Watch any criminal show, they'll tell you that people who murder those they know often stab them more times than necessary to kill them. We'll take him and dump him in the woods or something."
"And if they find Kyle's body?" Barney asked. "I mean, we cleaned him off, but our DNA is bound to still be there."
"Consensual gangbang," he chuckled. "Little Kyle has a whorish side that no one knew about."
Barney sighed, "I don't know if that'd work. They'd convict us before Ken."
"Look, it's either we have him pass out and we no doubt get caught or we kill him and increase our chances of getting away. Not like you've never killed before, Barns."
There was a momentary pause before Barney spoke again. "Fine. Who's going to?" he sighed.
"Trent," Mitch said. "You can handle a knife better than the rest of us. Stab him once and get him dead. Then once he's gone, just keep going. We'll finish him off, throw some of Ken's hair and spit on him and take him to the woods. Then we'll take Blondes and drop him off in a park or something."
"God, this is why we need medical records of the victims first," Richard sighed. They heard a small groaning and a thud, looking over to find Kyle coming out of the bathroom in his boxers and falling to the ground. Trent sighed and handed the camera over to Richard. The man turned and set the camera on the table beside them, leaning against it and looking away with Mitch and Barney as Trent grabbed the knife and headed over towards him, hiding it behind his back.
"Hey, Kyle," he said softly, kneeling down beside him and withdrawing the knife from beside his back. Before he could do anything Kyle whipped something out from behind himself as well and there was a deafening bang.
The entire room stiffened. That was all-too-familiar of a sound for them.
Ken looked over at Kyle, who was shaking, but managing to keep himself under control. A quick scan showed the shocked expressions of the audience, and was a wake-up to his own feelings. He looked down and saw that both his own and Kyle's hands were shaking.
It only worsened as he brought his eyes back up.
The men all looked over, completely stunned as they saw Trent fall to the floor with the knife still clutched in his hand, blood leaking from the side of his head, a thin layer coating Kyle's skin in a gory splatter.
"The little fuck has my gun!" Barney shouted.
Richard growled and started to advance on Kyle, but he raised the pistol and once again fired, hitting him in the chest. He stopped and turned slightly before falling to the ground clutching near his heart.
"FUCK!" Barney screamed, running off in the opposite direction. Kyle stood and raised the gun once more before falling to the ground and screaming as another loud bang was heard. Mitch's gun came into view before he put it back in his pocket and knelt down to check on Richard. Barney came up beside him with a bucket of water and a first aid kit, trying to see if he could get Richard back. He held his ear against his chest and backed away slowly. "He's dead."
Mitch's breathing became erratic, almost over powering Kyle's subtle sobs. They moved out of frame, revealing Kyle on the ground, his leg bleeding profusely as he clutched around his thigh and trembled. Suddenly, Mitch came back, attacking Kyle and landing on top of him, his hands clasping around his neck tightly.
"You fucking little shit!" He screamed, pressing down onto his throat and continually slamming his head into the concrete. "You little whore! I'll kill you, do you understand me?!"
Kyle rasped for air, pathetically clawing at his arms in a vain attempt to escape. Before long, he fell limp, shuddering and merely going slack against the cold ground.
"Mitch, he's done," Barney said, shaking his head from Richard's side. Mitch got up and breathed heavily.
"He's still. Not. Dead," he growled. "I want him dead."
"Look, we're in this too deep. We can't do anything more."
"What do we do then?" he asked desperately. "Rich and Trent are gone and this little fucker doesn't seem to want to die!"
"Whether or not he wants to is irrelevant. Look, you shot his thigh, he's not going anywhere. I say we leave him to bleed to death. Then Ken can die as he watches Kyle's body decompose. We can't leave anymore evidence."
"Someone's going to catch the smell eventually."
"We'll come back in a few days," he sighed, getting to his feet, walking over and taking his gun back. "We'll come back...we'll get Rich and Trent out of here...and we'll plan until then, alright?"
Mitch looked down and kicked Kyle's unconscious form. "Fine. Come on. Someone might've heard the shots." They both shakily made their way out past the four unconscious forms and shut and locked the door behind them.
Oliver paused the video and sighed, looking out at the audience and their shock. "From here, it's all recovery for Kyle." He started fast-forwarding the video. "He woke up and panicked. He had no idea what he'd done until he saw the blood all over himself. He prayed and cried for both Trent and Richard before taking care of himself. He grabbed the knife from Trent, digging the bullet out of his leg," he nodded as the image appeared on the screen. "He used the bucket of water to clean up the blood, the kit to wrap his wounds and the make-up that Barney had given him to cover the obvious bruises. His pants had blood on the back from Trent being shot, but he knew that people would find out he was raped, so he left it to tell that tale. Barney and Mitch had left the keys for Ken's cuffs on the table, so he grabbed them and unlocked them. It took him an hour to drag him from where he was to the door, where he called Stan and told him to get to them because Ken was hurt. No one remembered about the tape. It took a total of over three hours from the time he was shot to him calling for help."
He shut off the player and sighed again. "I myself heard the shots and found this tape, so I went and found Kyle to be his lawyer."
He walked back over to his table and pulled out various plastic bags. "Trent's knife," he demonstrated. "The tape they used to bind Kyle's arms. The gin. The rag Kyle used to clean himself off, his glucometer...there's a lot here," he sighed.
The lights were flipped back on and the court sat in complete silence, staring at the small redhead. He sat in a somewhat stately manner, completely still, staring straight ahead of himself at the door.
Ruth cleared her throat. "I believe...that a half hour rest is called for at this time," she looked out towards her stoic courtroom. "This court rests for a half hour," she banged her gavel. "Go out...clear your heads. Just come back as we near 1 o'clock...," she looked down. "Kyle."
He looked up at her slowly. "You may step down. Please...you can go have some time to think." He looked from her into Kenny's azure eyes before sighing and getting to his feet. Kenny watched as he and Mitch locked stares for a brief moment before Kyle broke away past the blonde, striding slowly, yet strongly towards the door. He looked back at Ken one last time with a saddened expression before pushing open the door and heading out away from the gawkers.
Kenny wanted so badly to jump to his feet and pursue him, but his shock prevented his legs from movement. He finally looked away as the door slammed shut and echoed amongst the silent audience. His eyes widened and his hands shook as his glance fell upon Kyle's chair, with a tsavorite garnet band placed precariously on the cushion.
A/N: Weren't expecting that, were ya?
