Warning: This is slash. If you do not know what this means by now, there is no hope for you, but I will recap, anyhow because I am such a sweet individual. There is some male/male interaction here, both consensual and non-consensual. Should this sort of thing twist your knickers, please run along. Here I am not only demonstrating what a sick and twisted person I am, I am flat out telling you so that you don't have to tell me.
Rating: I'm going to go with a strong R here, due to the non-consensual nature of the beginning part.
A/N: Perhaps I should tell you all now that I was in a rather wretched mood and listening to Placebo whilst I wrote this (as though you couldn't tell!) so it is quite... Well.... The thing is, really, I've had it with all the discontent among the people I know who insist upon being melodramatic about their lives. Well, the people that thrive off of drama and make no attempts to better themselves: wankers... I went for some Seamus angst.... This may seem a bit OOC, but just keep an open mind... All right, now I'm just.... Ah, hell, just read the damn thing already!
Weeping Wounds That Never Heal
I feel like trash. He always takes me to someone else's house. I'm getting sick of it and I want to go home. I rise from the couch but he playfully pulls me back down and tries to kiss me. I tell him no, that I want to go. He just smiles and tries again. What's wrong with him? I push away and stand again, but once again he pulls me down. Now I'm getting scared. He's never done this before. Why is he doing this? I've told him no before... I'm up and heading toward the door and over my shoulder I tell him that I'm leaving. My stomach meets the floor as he launches himself on me. Out of instinct I start to thrash. By some miracle I throw him off and get up, only to feel his hand painfully gripping my shoulder. Anger is taking the place of fear, and I make the most horrid mistake of my life: I turn around. His fist connects with my jaw and I hear the bones crunch more than I feel the pain. What is he doing to me? Why? He's never hit me before. What did I do? Stumbling back with the force of the blow, he takes a step forward and pushes me just hard enough to throw me off balance. Fear once again replaces anger as I once again try to escape my lover's flaring temper. There are hands on my shoulders and he turns me around. The sliding glass door is now in front of me. God, no. Please, no. He runs at it, full force, using me as a type of battering ram and throws me head first through the door. Actually, that didn't hurt as bad as the bed of shattered glass I'm laying on that's cutting into my face. It feels good to be away from him. Crunch of boots on glass tells me that he isn't gone, after all. Oh, please, God, just make him go away. Crawling is impossible as my entire body is paralyzed. Why can't I move? All I want is to get away from him. Cold air hits my skin. My clothes are no more than little bits of coloured cloth littering the area around us. Oh, no. Please, no. I know what he's going to do. I want to get away. I'm sorry I came here. What did I do to deserve this? I think I scream, but I'm not sure because all I can hear is him laughing. My whole body has gone rigid, paralyzed now with fear. I just want to go home. I just want to get away from him. I just... Oh, God! He pushes into me so roughly that I can literally feel myself tearing apart. I'm so sorry for whatever I did... I'm sorry... Tears are running down my face to mingle with the blood. Why is he hurting me like this? He told me that he loved me. I didn't say anything. Is that why? No one else has ever hurt me like this. Is it karma? It feels like forever. There's a steady stream of warmth running down my thighs. How will I explain this to my mum? She'll be so angry if I tell her. I'll have to go to the doctor, but she can't afford it. He pulls out of me as roughly as he entered and the gush of fluid running out of me is nothing short of terrifying. I don't think I want to know how much of it is blood and how much of it is cum. I hope I get a disease from this so I can just die. I don't want to have to tell anyone. He's looming over me but I can see him. He must have turned me over because the glass is biting into my back and I know I don't have the strength. I hate feeling so fucking weak. My mum's going to be so ashamed of me for letting him do this. All I see is a flash of light in his hand before I feel the searing pain cutting my chest wide open. It's not cold anymore. The blood is warming me and it feels good. I hope that I'm dying. My last conscious thought is hearing him call me a pathetic little weakling. But he doesn't need to tell me. I already know that.
My eyes fly open and for a moment I'm still laying on that bed of glass before I realize it was just a dream. Why am I still having these dreams? It happened so long ago, why can't I just forget it? Once again, I wake up covered in cold sweat and my whole fucking body is shaking.
Draco is staring at me, eyes clouded with fear. "Are you all right, love?" he asks almost timidly.
Tears start streaming down my face, my body wracked with violent sobs. All I want to do is shrink down to nothing. I hate thinking about this. I don't want to think about it. I'm all curled up into a ball, but Draco still has his arms around me. He is alternating between kissing my sweat drenched hair and whispering words of solace in my ear: "I love you, baby, it's okay" and "Don't worry, nothing will happen to you" and "I'm here, sweetheart, I'll protect you". He knows the drill; this happens on occasion but mostly when I've had a particularly shitty day or drunk too much whiskey, which I don't do that often because I know how it will inevitably end up.
He's rocking me, cradling me in his arms. For someone as small and skinny as he is, he does have a very strong body. Like I'm one to talk, we're exactly the same size, I'm just more muscular than he is. But I don't give him enough credit because just the fact that he can take me in his arms and wash all the horrors of my past away is... well, you know. There simply aren't words that can explain it.
Finally, I've calmed down, though I know that he is anything but. "Are you all right?"
"Me ? Sod me, are you all right?" he replies, his voice cracking. Poor thing's got enough to worry about without me waking him up in the dead of night so I can cry about my past. "You really had me worried, you know. I *voice cracks* I can't stand to see you so in pain, I love you so much."
Breaking into a fresh wave of emotion, I try to get closer to him and he gathers all of me in his arms. I know it's completely useless and counterproductive to keep crying, it's all I seem to want to do and at the end of it I'll feel better, so I guess it's worth it. Still, I can't help but feel guilty for resting my burdens on his shoulders. "I'm s-so s-sorry, Draco. I'm just so s-sorry."
Whispering in my ear, he sets it all right again. "Shut up, you've got nothing at all to be sorry for. I love you. Just think about that, okay? Just always know that I love you and I will always love you. No matter what."
"Promise?" I already know how he's going to answer, but it makes me feel better to hear it, anyway.
"With my heart and my body and my soul until we die and die and die again."
The power of those words have the ability to relax me almost back to normal. Even though I know all this to be true, sometimes I just need to hear it for the sake of hearing it. He knows this as well as I do, so he never questions me. He just hugs me tighter and continues to kiss my head when I wrap my arms around his waist.
Once again he asks the same question he always asks when this happens, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Always, I tell him no, that I don't want to talk about it, but now there's something else in me that's making me hesitate. On the one hand, all I want to do is put it to the back of my mind again, but on the other, I know that if I continue to do that I will never be able to get past the pain that insists upon coming to the surface. I've kept it from everyone since it happened. But to be perfectly honest, I don't think that I can bear living alone with it anymore. I tell him, "Yes," but say no more than that. Finding a place to start hasn't occurred to me just yet.
He prompts me by asking, "What is it that you dream about?"
All right, Seamus, it's now or never. *deep breath* Here goes... "You know that scar on my chest? What am I saying? Of course you do, you'd have to be blind not to notice it. And you're certainly not blind, not by far. In fact, I think you've got the best vision of everyone that I know." Oh, god, now I sound like a total ass.
"Uhm, do you want to tell me about it?" Apprehension laces his voice. Not that I can blame him, I mean, I've been laying here, babbling like the fucking idiot that I am and I've got to be scaring the hell out of him.
"Yes, I do, I'm just not sure how."
"It's all right, love," he assures me. "Whatever you want."
Quit fucking around, Seamus. Just do it. Laying down is not the position I want to be in for this so I sit up so that I can look into his eyes while I tell him this. There's something about his eyes that always keeps me calm and focused and I never needed it more than I do right now.
"Seamus, you don't have to if you don't want to."
"But I do want to -I need to- it's just really hard." He gives me an affectionate smile and I feel more at ease with what I've got to spill. "See, this guy I was *chokes* This guy I was seeing a couple of years ago.... God, this is hard. Um, he... he raped me and cut me up and gave me this scar," I finally manage to spit out.
His face now wears a mask of shock. Stunning him wasn't my intention. "Oh, my god..." he trails off. Visibly shaking himself, he regains control over his voice. "When was this?" Confusion accentuates the simple question. Have I been speaking un-clearly?
"Ahm, almost three years ago."
"You were fifteen ?" he asks, clearly taken aback.
"Yeah. Summer holiday before sixth year, actually."
"My god, Seamus, I never knew." Tears are running down his cheeks. Shit. Fuck me, I shouldn't have told him. "I am so sorry. I should have paid more attention."
"It's not like it was very obvious, you know."
"But... *sobs* How... how did this happen?"
"I said I didn't want to go to bed and..." My voice cracks and I don't think I can finish. Clearly, I've already scared the hell out of him, and I don't want to make it any worse.
"It's all right." Clutching my hands in his own, he raises them to his mouth so that he can kiss them, calming me down enough so that I can speak.
"And he beat the shit out of me and raped me and gashed me open."
Once again he's totally shocked. Before saying anything, his eyes flicker down to my chest. "How the hell are you still alive?"
"Actually, the lady whose house we were in came home not long afterward, I guess."
"You guess?"
"Yeah. I was... *chokes on a sob* I was out fucking cold. The doctors at the hospital told me it was a miracle I survived because I lost so much blood. *sobs hard* They said it took over four hours to pick all the glass out of me."
"Pick the glass out of you ?"
"Uh, yeah. He threw me through a glass door and left me laying in it."
Tears continue streaming down his face. I shouldn't have told him. "This guy really did that to you?"
"Well, I certainly didn't imagine it!" I snap, making him flinch. He looks hurt and now I regret what I said. He didn't mean anything by it, he's obviously just appalled and doesn't know what else to say. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."
"No, don't apologize. I'm sorry, I just don't know exactly what to think of all this."
A very bitter laugh involuntarily escapes my lungs as I reply, "Neither do I, trust me."
"Why do you still have the scar?"
"I was taken to a Muggle hospital because the woman was a Muggle. So was he, actually. Muggles don't have very effective ways of curing anything. After I got home, my grandmum took me to St. Mungo's and they fixed most of the cuts the glass left, but they couldn't make this one go away. *gestures at himself* I'll have to live with it forever."
"Why couldn't they fix it?"
"I don't know. *long pause* They said that it was already too healed naturally to be able
to manipulate it magickally. Personally, I think I have it because it was something I was meant to remember. Does that sound fucked?"
Shaking his head, he sighs, "No, my love, not at all. But why do you think that you were meant to remember such a thing? I mean, that's got to be something that would haunt you with or without a scar."
Wincing at his choice of words, I can't help but smile. Tact isn't one of Draco's strong points when he gets emotional and I think it's absolutely adorable how involved he gets. Too bad this is such a wretched thing to be involved in. Though I hate to admit it, I think that this may have been a good thing: telling him. "I know it's kind of a used-up phrase, but 'what does not kill me makes me stronger' seems to be the only adequate description that applies. Maybe I've got this scar as a more physical reminder of that."
"Like a battle scar."
"Yeah. Something like that."
A proud smile crosses his face. What the hell could he be proud of? "Meaning that it is a reminder to you that you were knocked down pretty sodding hard and you stood up and overcame it just the same. Almost like a sign of strength, you know."
I think I understand why he's got that smile on his face. In all honesty, I've never really thought about it in this light before. Before now I've always put it to the back of my mind and gone on with my life, constantly trying to evade the feeling of worthlessness that always threatened to take me under when I was alone enough to brood about it. Going back to school was almost easier than it should have been. Dean was scared at how smoothly I readjusted to regular, everyday life when he had, not three days prior to that, comforted me whilst I cried my eyes out on his shoulder. Being at Hogwarts and constantly around so many people gave me a more suitable avenue to avoid dealing with the pain and degradation that singular event evoked in me. Putting it all to the back of my mind forced me to get on with life. But it never made anything better, I was merely procrastinating in a huge mother fucking way.
Draco is still sitting there with that damn smile on his face. God, I love him. It never ceases to amaze me how good he makes me feel. I never thought that anyone or anything could ever make me feel so sodding wonderful even in the face of defeat. But I am not defeated. Defeat would mean that I would not be sitting here with the most perceptive, gorgeous, intelligent creature ever to walk the face of the Earth.
Now I can't help but grin. "You know, I think that maybe you've got a point there."
We chat a bit longer, though not about anything of any real substance. I've assured him that I am fine and that I will indeed survive. He seems to be convinced that I am at least on some road to recovery and tucks me into bed, wrapping himself around me. Feeling his body so close to mine makes everything okay and makes me feel safe. Genuinely safe.
What I've realized is that what I've got to do is not to get past it or get through it or bury it. My only option is to learn what I can from what happened and learn to accept that as a part of who I am. I can't dwell on it and I can never be happy about it, but it happened and there is nothing that I can do to change that fact. All I can do is put it in my proverbial backpack and carry it with me along with all the other things that've formed me over the course of my life and continue on my way. Though I know it will not be easy or fast, Draco will be there every step of the way, helping me lighten my load.
*****
So?! How is it? Please, please, please review!; I so love hearing the thoughts of others on the things that come out of my brain.
Thanks to all of you who reviewed: annikatwist, I do hope that this pleases you as much as the last parts did. You made me blush, you know. *blows kisses* You're so sweet!; Gwen, brilliant? Aw, geez. *blushes furiously* Here's some more Draco/Seamus for you, and I promise there will be a lot more to come. I've found my pairing at last, and there's no stopping me. Mwahahahaha! So.. uh... Oh, yeah! Thanks, love, I do hope you dig this; Rubicon, what the hell can I say? You're too good to me, as always. I love you, and without you this story wouldn't have made it past Common People. Thanks for all your inspiration and kind words; Azzie, this isn't particularly sweet, but thank you for praising me so! I think I love you! *big, wet, sloppy kiss*; nyanko, Thankyouthankyouthankyou for seeing what a delectable creature Seamus is. For a while there I thought I was just hoping for the impossible. Thank you, lovie, you're awesome! I hope you like these new additions. You're all too good to me, really. *blows kisses* Cheers!