Author's Note: Warning, disturbing content ahead. As the exact nature of the content is a spoiler, the specific trigger warning is given in the ending Author's note. Feel free to jump down there and check first if you know you may very well need a warning on certain topics. Otherwise, carry on!

AU: Whiplash and Backfire (part 1)

Whiplash

Taylor ran like the wind, her body pushed to the limit. Sweat rolled down her face despite the cool wind and chilly temperature of the pre-dawn city, little spikes of cold she was helpless to brush away.

She didn't stop until she was near collapse, and then only momentarily. Her morning jog was long and arduous, but it was already paying dividends on her stamina and endurance. She was getting faster, too, though that just meant she went further in the same amount of time, not that the run was easier or over quicker.

Her breathing having slowed to a manageable speed, she kicked off once more and kept going. She navigated a long, circular route through the city, ending at her house like she did every morning. Her dad expected it by now, which was a big part of why the runs continued.

"I"m home!" she announced, bounding through the front door and jogging up the stairs. It was late – she had started late – and she didn't have time to shower, which was good. She tossed her stuff into her backpack, zipped it shut, and jogged back down the stairs, not bothering to change on this particular morning.

Danny was in the kitchen, a coffee mug in hand. He had his work jacket on and the truck was idling in the driveway, so she had just caught him before he left.

"You're up so early you're putting your old man to shame now," he remarked. "How was the run?"

"Same old," she said. "Seen one dark sidewalk, seen them all. Going to be home early tonight?"

"Kurt and the others invited me to watch the big game with them," Danny said with a small grimace. "But if you don't–"

"No!" she interrupted. "Go ahead. It'll be good for you. I'm spending the night at Lisa's anyway."

"Okay, then," he conceded. "Have fun!" He set his coffee mug in the sink and walked out the front door, the step creaking as he went.

Taylor flopped down on the couch, all the chippy energy she had displayed gone now that there was nobody to show it to. She grabbed the remote, turned the television on, and channel surfed for a while, mindlessly flicking through until it was time to catch the bus.

The bus ride to Winslow was uneventful. She got a few looks, probably because she was still wearing her running shorts and T-shirt, as opposed to something sane for the balmy forty-five degree morning. Thankfully nobody tried to talk to her.

She sat through Gladly's class, flicking balled-up pieces of paper at his desk whenever he turned his back and not paying the slightest bit of attention to his lecture. Computer class was no better; she browsed the web until it was time to go to lunch. The only thing she really engaged with–

"Hebert!"

Was the trio. She spun around, a smile she definitely didn't feel crossing her lips. "Sophia!" she called back.

Sophia led them – an unusual occurrence, but not unheard of – as the three petty teens cornered her. It was Sophia's hands that grabbed her shoulders and shoved her against the locker. Her back hurt, but she didn't show it.

Instead she leered at Sophia, deliberately glancing down at her chest. "Don't get me all worked up, it's not even lunchtime."

Sure enough, Sophia recoiled, shaking her hands like they were dirty. "Freak," she growled with only a fraction of her usual anger. That always worked. Taylor suspected it was because Sophia just didn't understand anyone who claimed to like pain like that.

"Freak is right," Emma said, valiantly stepping into the gap Sophia had left. "Going to–"

"Lunch," Taylor cut her off with a forced yawn. "You done?"

"I think–" Emma tried.

Taylor yawned again and shoved past her. "Boring me." She noticed the many, many eyes on their confrontation, every student in the hall watching, and she wished they wouldn't. This was humiliating enough when it was just the trio. She wished she was wearing clothing that didn't show as much skin. She wished for a lot of things.

Emma grabbed her shoulder from behind. "Your mom is dead because of you," she hissed.

"Wow, so much for subtle barbs," Taylor said mockingly, brushing Emma's hand off. She entered the cafeteria, the three petty school bullies still trailing behind her, and ducked behind a few conveniently-placed skinheads, making her escape while Sophia had a miniature staring contest with the larger one.

The rest of the school day was a blur compared to that one terrifying moment of conflict. She played with her bugs for a little bit, arranging a nearby colony of ants into various three-dimensional sculptures during math to pass the time, but that was the most interesting thing to happen between lunch and school letting out.

After school, she took a different bus toward the city, switching from the schoolbus to public transport halfway to her destination. Eventually, one long ride later, she walked into the loft.

Rachel and Lisa were there, the former brushing one of her dogs with a tough-looking wire brush and the latter tapping away at a laptop. Neither looked up as she came in, set her bag down by the couch, and waited.

She didn't wait for long; Alec came down from his room almost immediately. "Back already?" he asked, leaning over the couch to peck her on the lips. She kissed him back.

"Yeah," she said, scooting over to clear a space for him. He liked the left side of the couch. "You get it?"

"Stood in line for an hour," Alec grumbled as he fiddled with a game console under the TV. "Shoulda had Lisa go get it for me."

"In your dreams," Lisa said mildly. "Keep it quiet, I'm busy doing actual work over here."

"Sure," Alec promised, the lie leaving his lips without hesitation. A bright title screen exploded into being on the television, and he tossed a controller to Taylor. "Presenting… Call to Order Four! Prepare to have your ass kicked."

"One of us will get their ass kicked, but it won't be me," Taylor said loudly.

She proceeded to lose horribly. Repeatedly. For the better part of the afternoon. They played until Alec got bored, though. Grue came in at some point, talked to Tattletale, and left again. He didn't stay. He and Bitch had their own places, and they tended to avoid the loft nowadays. Taylor wished he would spend more time in the loft.

Bitch left as it was getting dark, her dogs in tow. It was just Taylor, Lisa, and Alec.

Lisa put a frozen pizza in the oven, then returned to her research. Alec stretched, stuck his arm around her shoulders like in a cheesy movie, then laughed and pulled her close. They kissed, then did a little more than kissing, until the pizza was ready. Taylor shrugged her shirt back on and went to get some, bringing back enough for Alec. They ate, then retired to his bedroom.

He was sluggish on this particular night, and she ended up doing most of the hard work, so to speak. She tried not to think about it. Lisa was still downstairs on her computer, at least.

Alec pulled her close once it was done, her sweaty body against his, and held her possessively for a while. Then she got up, went into the room next door, and crouched to pull out a nondescript box from under the bed. It was the work of a moment to remove the four novelty padded handcuffs contained within and get onto the bed.

She chained her own ankles to the baseboard, and her left wrist to the headboard. Lisa came in and did her right wrist for her, before closing and locking the door from the outside.

After a few minutes, it happened.

For the first time all day she was in control of her own body. Not her power, he was still there controlling that, but he was letting her move, for all the good it did.

She screamed until her voice was hoarse. Nobody heard her.

Nobody ever heard her.

Author's Note: Warning: Rape, body control, slavery. Nothing explicit, but that actually isn't much of a limitation for an author who knows what they're doing, so be advised. It's always hard for an author to know how visceral of a reaction their writing will elicit, so I'm erring on the side of caution here.

Also, for what it's worth, this is a two-part story specifically because while this first part does stand on its own, the actual prompt I started out wanting to write is the second part.