A/N
It is the chapter everyone has been waiting for and the chapter I have planned on writing since I started this series. I expect everyone to have input on this chapter. It was a long time in coming.
WoC
Damien leaned back and flinched when his back touched the wall of the outside of the church. The sun had gone almost completely gone down while we waited for Micah. I hopped up and dug around in the car for the first aid kit.
"Damien I need to see your back," I said as I dropped down next to him.
"I'd rather you not," he said weakly.
"Fine Damien," I snapped, "let it get infected so you can die in agony. You would want to go out a martyr."
He paused then finally slowly turned around and pulled his shirt off. I'd seen Damien without a shirt before, but is was always from the front. Aside from washboard abs, I'd never noticed anything unusual. I sucked in a breath through my teeth. His back was a different story entirely. It wasn't just the glass cuts; his lower back was plowed with scars.
"My father," Sherlock answered the unspoken question, "I got in the way a couple times when he was hitting Mum."
My eyes filled and I blinked back tears. He rarely talked about that part of his past.
"You've got a tattoo," I said quickly changing the subject.
Damien nodded and winced as I put ointment on the cuts. On his shoulder blade was a small tattoo of a dragon.
"I didn't know you had on. Did it hurt?"
He shrugged, "Not too bad."
I couldn't help but let my fingers slide down to where the skin on his back buckled unevenly with the scars.
"Damien, I'm so sorry," I whispered.
He turned and looked at me with almost unspeakable pain. I pulled him into my arms and felt him sob silently and dryly on my shoulder.
"I've always been so afraid of hurting someone like my father hurt my mother," he said finally, "I don't want to turn into him."
"You're not him Damien," I soothed, "you're the farthest thing from him I can think of."
"I don't know if I can stay that way," he said seriously.
"Damien, I trust you. I'd trust you with my life without thinking, and I don't trust anyone."
He looked at me and I suddenly leaned in and kissed him. I had intended it to be a peck, but Damien responded and it was suddenly a passionate, full kiss. I felt his hands slide around my waist as I pulled one of mine through his hair.
The moment was broken by headlights. We both jerked away from each other shocked and gasping. I jumped up to see Micah pull up in his jeep.
Talk about timing.
It is the chapter everyone has been waiting for and the chapter I have planned on writing since I started this series. I expect everyone to have input on this chapter. It was a long time in coming.
WoC
Damien leaned back and flinched when his back touched the wall of the outside of the church. The sun had gone almost completely gone down while we waited for Micah. I hopped up and dug around in the car for the first aid kit.
"Damien I need to see your back," I said as I dropped down next to him.
"I'd rather you not," he said weakly.
"Fine Damien," I snapped, "let it get infected so you can die in agony. You would want to go out a martyr."
He paused then finally slowly turned around and pulled his shirt off. I'd seen Damien without a shirt before, but is was always from the front. Aside from washboard abs, I'd never noticed anything unusual. I sucked in a breath through my teeth. His back was a different story entirely. It wasn't just the glass cuts; his lower back was plowed with scars.
"My father," Sherlock answered the unspoken question, "I got in the way a couple times when he was hitting Mum."
My eyes filled and I blinked back tears. He rarely talked about that part of his past.
"You've got a tattoo," I said quickly changing the subject.
Damien nodded and winced as I put ointment on the cuts. On his shoulder blade was a small tattoo of a dragon.
"I didn't know you had on. Did it hurt?"
He shrugged, "Not too bad."
I couldn't help but let my fingers slide down to where the skin on his back buckled unevenly with the scars.
"Damien, I'm so sorry," I whispered.
He turned and looked at me with almost unspeakable pain. I pulled him into my arms and felt him sob silently and dryly on my shoulder.
"I've always been so afraid of hurting someone like my father hurt my mother," he said finally, "I don't want to turn into him."
"You're not him Damien," I soothed, "you're the farthest thing from him I can think of."
"I don't know if I can stay that way," he said seriously.
"Damien, I trust you. I'd trust you with my life without thinking, and I don't trust anyone."
He looked at me and I suddenly leaned in and kissed him. I had intended it to be a peck, but Damien responded and it was suddenly a passionate, full kiss. I felt his hands slide around my waist as I pulled one of mine through his hair.
The moment was broken by headlights. We both jerked away from each other shocked and gasping. I jumped up to see Micah pull up in his jeep.
Talk about timing.
