Notes: This is very OLD. I wil be updating sooner or later, but this is all posted in it's original form, completely unedited any farther than it had been. I apologize if it seems a bit rough!

Disclaimer: Yeh yeh, same old shtuff. Marvel owns all the recognizable

chars, I'm just borrowing them for entertainment purposes. I'm not making any money, so don't sue. However, I own any of the unrecognizable chars you might see. You can use em if you like, just let me know, give me proper credit, and let me read whatever you put em in!

Note from Frost: Heya folks, this is my first art of ficdom to be archived on the web. Thus the title. So hey, be kind to me kk? Anyhow, This focuses on Emma Frost, her past and all that happy horse dookie. :grin: Lemme know what ya think.. Or I'll have to be sad and upset and think you hate me.. So please, FEEDBACK is a good thing..

WARNING: This has some sexual abuse scenes in it, adult themes, child

molestation and possibly foul words and ideas, if you are under 18 or

offended by such things, please don't read this. If you do, don't flame me.. You were warned...

Premiere of OnyxFrost or Recesses of the Mind

Emma walked through the dark hall ever so slowly. There was a tightness in her gut that she was unaccustomed to, and she was hard pressed to place the sensation. She had felt it before, so very long ago...

She suddenly found herself back in time, back...to when she had first started hearing the voices in her mind. She couldn't recall the first time she had heard him coming, but she could recall wishing so avidly that she could. Wishing she had just a little warning before he came to her. Even if she could do nothing to stop what he would do, perhaps she could hide, or lose herself in a trance like she had read in her books.

He hadn't liked her reading all that 'rubbish', he said it filled her with unruly thoughts and rotted her mind. She remembered that when she first realized she was hearing things she thought perhaps it had rotted her brain. She remembered being afraid of what he would do when he found out..

Ah yes.. Fear.. That's what this tightness was. That sick cramping in her stomach, the quick beat of her heart, it was all fear. She hadn't feared anything in so long; she had forgotten what it felt like. She most certainly could recall it now. She recalled making a vow never to feel it again, as she didn't like the feeling. Apparently, her mind had other ideas about such a vow..

The girl shivered on her bed, knowing he was coming. She glanced at the window, thinking maybe she could flee, but the thought of it being such a long way down repelled her from the idea. Not that she could get it open fast enough; even since he had caught her sitting in it, he had 'fixed' it so that it was hard enough to open that she rarely bothered to try. It had added one more thing to the long list of why she hated him so much.

She could hear him at her door now, his haggard breath, and the dull thud of his boots on the wooden floor. She could smell the alcohol even though the door was still closed. She unconsciously pulled the white comforter up over her head in a last ditch attempt the hide from the coming storm.

He beat on the door roughly a few times, then swung the door open so hard it slammed into the wall, and a small crystal unicorn fell from her shelf and shattered on the floor. She winced at the sound, knowing yet another of her sacred keepsakes had been lost to her. He paid no notice to it, just hunkered over to her bed and ripped the comforter and sheets from over her. She curled into a ball instinctively, and realized her mistake a split second before her smacked her hard across the face.

She made no sound to augment the crack of his wide hand coming into

contact with her soft flesh. It hurt, but she had learned long ago not to make a sound. She could feel the flame creep across her skin; the tears fill her eyes. She blinked them away, knowing he didn't like those either. Too late, for he had seen the single one that escaped and made a mad dash down the reddening skin of her cheek. He slapped her again, and she could taste blood from her lip. She didn't jerk away when he grabbed her ankle, as she used to, knowing that would only get her more of a beating. She shivered involuntarily, which earned her a fresh slap on the other cheek, causing it to flush red to match the other.

He jerked her ankle down, forcing her out of her protective fetal

position. She silently cursed herself for having worn such a short tee shirt for bed, wishing she had instead worn the long flannel that she had decided would be to hot. He licked his lips in a predatory manner and pinned her down with a knee to her belly. It hurt and she couldn't breath, but she didn't push it away. She knew it would only make him angrier, and then he would stay longer and beat her some more.

After removing his clothes, he lay atop her, using his large body to completely pin her small one. She closed her eyes; fighting the tears she knew were coming. She could never stop them, no matter how hard she tried, and how much pain he put her through for shedding them.

He ripped her tee shirt away, and not saying a word, he went about

fondling her young, lush body. She could feel his member stiffening against her belly, and clenched her eyes tighter. Guiding her unwilling hands, he forced her to fondle him in return, and she could swear she heard him say something, yet he never said anything during these.. encounters.

So firm, such sweet flesh... Such small hands.. She was beginning to panic, but somehow through amazing amounts of willpower, she kept herself in control. His soft ragged moaning accompanied these voices, her own breath becoming shallow with fear. Suddenly he ripped her hands away, and began running his foul mouth and course lips over her body. She writhed beneath him, but he was, fortunately for her, to caught up in his actions to notice.

Digging his teeth painfully into her young, firm breast, he shoved her legs open and ripped away the small barrier of her cotton panties. She screamed as he plunged deep inside her...

Again, she was in the dark hall, she could hear screaming now. She felt lost for a moment, unfocused, and alone. It took too long to gather her dazed thoughts, but she finally could remember enough to get moving. She moved towards the screaming, silently, like a cat in the night. Slipping down the shadowed corridor, she it seemed forever until she came to a door. Gingerly trying the knob, she found it locked, and stepped back to kick it down. She did so, the door flying back so hard, the small glass window in it shattered and sprinkled like rain across the floor. At first, everything in the room was blurry, and time seemed to slow with how long it took to focus. The small room was barren, except for one light fixture in the middle of the ceiling. The walls were painted sea foam green about three quarters the ways up and then were white up to and including the ceiling. Looking to the far side of the room, there was a ragged looking cot shoved into the corner, upsized. And then, last to focus, was the girl in the center of the room, being held by to burley men in white uniforms, as a third relived himself of his uniform. The three men looked to her, and that cramping was suddenly augmented. She turned to run, to escape, but before she could take three steps, they had her pinned to the floor, she could feel their hands on her, and all she could do was struggle against them...

"Emma! Wake up woman!" Sean called to her, trying to pin her enough so she didn't flip off the bed in her struggles ad injure herself. Everett Thomas, or Synch as he was known by, and Jonothan Starsmore, or Chamber, were also trying to hold her down, assisting their headmaster and teacher, Sean Cassidy, or Banshee as many called him.

By now, all the students had been awoken by the headmistress' screams, and had gathered by her door, not moving any father into her rooms, as Jono and Everett only had because of Sean's urging. Monet, also known as simply, M, smirked at their attempts to wake the blonde woman, and calmly walked into her private washroom, only to return a few moments later with a glass of ice cold water, which she promptly dumped right on the female teacher's flushed face.

Begging a new scream from her, Emma's eyes opened sharply, as she choked on the water, her whole body tense and shivering, those glacially blue eyes darting around frightened and unseeing for a few moments, before settling on Sean and coming into focus. Her ragged breathing began to slow with realization, and noticing the change, Sean smiled softly and gently pushed a wet tuft of blonde hair back from her face. As her muscles finally went lax, Sean motioned for the two boys to back off a bit, as he himself did so as well. Emma took a deep breath and sat up, and scooted back against the headboard of her large bed to glance at each of the boys, then at Monet, and finally to the other students gathered silently in the hall. She didn't yet trust her voice, but plainly motioned for them to go away. Sean cast a lingering glance at her, then nodded to the students, each of them hesitant to go, but finally doing so, Monet leaving last, closed the door to the

immaculate rooms.

"What happened Em?" Sean asked in his worried tone, as he went to refill the glass Monet had used to wake her. When he returned, she was staring oddly at her hands, which were shaking badly. She looked up to him as he offered her the glass, and he could see tears streaking down her face in torrents. She went to take the offered glass, but Sean, having seen her hands shaking even more, raised it to her lips gently, allowing her to sip it and cool her burning throat. Setting the glass on the nightstand, he gently wiped her tears, a bit hurt when she flinched away from his touch. "Em?"

Her throat was sore from screaming, ad her head hurt so bad, all she wanted to do was curl up and die, but she knew he'd never let her do that, anymore then she would let herself. "Just.. a nightmare." she croaked out. He retrieved the glass and let her drink again.

"Em, ye've had nightmares before.. But none so bad that ye woke the entire school wi'yuir screamin. An' it was to hard ta' wake ye this time. So what's wrong?"

She shook her head, yet he wasn't sure if she was just reluctant to tell, or if she really didn't know. "Em, ye need ta' talk this out. 'Tis nae healthy ta' keep it all locked inside."

"Sean.. You know nothing of my past. You would never understand.. No one understands. It's one of those unique pains that I will always have to bear alone." she replied softly.

"Nae alone Em. Nae anymore. Let me help ye."

"How could you help? How could anyone help with something they just can't understand?"

Sean had no answer, or more, none he would volunteer just yet. He knew it would only upset her more, and right now, what she needed was

uninterrupted sleep. "Ye get some sleep Em.. We'll talk about this later."

"I'd rather not.. Never sleep again if I can help it.." her reply was almost to soft for him to hear, but he had excellent hearing, for with his powers, it was either that of being deaf.

"Em, yuir exhausted. I know your nightmares have kept ye from gettin' any useful sleep fer the past few weeks. And they're only getting worse. I'll give ye a sedative that will give ye a dreamless sleep. Ye wait here." and with that, he fled the room, going to the med lab to find the medication Henry McCoy had given him incase things had gotten worse, which they had. Sean sighed, if Emma would only talk about it, or work with Jean, she might be able to get over this.

By the time he had returned to her rooms, she was already in a fitful sleep. Injecting her with the sedative, he sat back to watch, to be there if she needed him. As the drug took effect, her body went limp, her breathing deep and slow. She was asleep now, no more dreaming, no more nightmares. But he couldn't help but wonder what all these nightmares meant...