Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Charmed

Vulnerable Child: Chapter 2

"Don't say you love me if you don't" sighed Phoebe, brushing her hair behind her ears, "Its ok if you don't... just don't lie to me," She looked down at the ground coyly, her cheeks growing red as his hand brushed gently across her cheeks.

"I would never lie to you," he replied, although he hadn't lied the answer he had given wasn't comforting.

"Are you sure?" she asked, avoiding his eyes. She knew that eyes held the truth but he could mask his. She pulled away from his hand slightly and waited for an answer,

"Do I not seem sure?" he asked, slowly pulling her petite frame towards him, his hands clasped behind her waist. He reached up behind her neck and pulled her face in deep, kissing her gently with his rough lips.

"No, I guess you seem sure enough," replied Phoebe after the embrace had finished. She tried not to show her nervousness, but knew that it must be written all over her face. He was so much stronger than her, and although she tried to deny it she knew that he was in control – as he always was.

Phoebe sat waiting for Grams to arrive home. It had been an hour since Prue had confronted her and she was glad that Prue hadn't bothered her any more. She listened deep into the night as she waited for Grams to arrive, normally Grams was home at four sharp – the clock had just turned five thirty. She wondered what was taking her so long. Not that she knew what she would say to her when she arrived home, she knew that Prue would tell Grams that something was wrong and Phoebe didn't have an answer. Grams wouldn't have understood what was happening to her, how could she. Phoebe pulled herself up off the ground and wandered slowly through to the kitchen, she expected Prue to be upstairs studying but was shocked when Prue greeted her at the kitchen door.

"Phoebe," said Prue quietly,

"What?" she replied bluntly, if she could pretend that she was angry at Prue maybe they wouldn't speak. She wasn't angry with Prue at all though; despite how much she tried to be.

"Phoebe, we need to talk. I know that something is going on, why can't you just tell me," sighed Prue,

"Why should I?" snapped Phoebe, as she walked round to the other side of the kitchen. Prue walked over to the kitchen table and sat down, she sighed and then continued,

"Because I'm your sister," she said, hoping that it would have some sort of impact on Phoebe. But she just stood there, glaring at Prue out the corner of her eye.

"What is that meant to mean to me?" said Phoebe harshly, "Your only my sister when it suits you,"

"That's not true," said Prue, she could hear the tone in her voice becoming harsh and strong. "Listen to me Phoebe, I'm your sister and whether you like it or not we have to talk about this. What ever your going through you can talk to me about it,"

"No," replied Phoebe, marching towards the door. Prue sprung to her feet and stopped Phoebe before she could leave the kitchen.

"Phoebe, if you don't tell me I will have to go to Grams, you know I will,"

"No Prue, you really don't have to go to grams. I mean is there a law about having secrets in this house? I don't think so, I mean you have your secrets, and I don't run off and tell Grams about them."

"Look Phoebe, I admit yelling at you before wasn't the best way to go about things, but I've calmed down now and you can talk to me. Why won't you?"

"Because something's are personal," replied Phoebe once again pushing past her sister and storming out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Phoebe sat on the edge of the bed, slowly running her fingers through her hair; she thought that she had some things figured out before – now everything was even more confusing. He rolled over and grabbed her arm, gently kissing it; the same gentle kisses as before. Phoebe pulled away from him, she didn't want him anywhere near her anymore.

"What's wrong?" he asked, pulling himself up and sitting beside her. "Why are you being so cold now?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," replied Phoebe. She reached out and grabbed her skirt, pulling it on.

"Phoebe, we've had this conversation. We both know that when you say you're fine you're lying. Can't we just skip this and move onto what's really wrong with you,"

"I told you I'm fine,"

"Is it because we... I mean should we have waited?" he asked, as he tried to pull himself closer to her again, "Because you said you were sure,"

"No I didn't," she snapped.

"So that's it, that's what's really wrong with you. What do you think I took advantage?" he asked, as he reached for his jeans.

"No, I told you I'm fine," she grabbed her top and began pulling it over her head,

"Phoebe. I told you I was ready. And you told me the same. If you hadn't of been ready," he began but Phoebe cut him off,

"You'd have forced me anyway," she snapped again. Suddenly she felt his hand fly towards her face. The slap stung, but she didn't let it show, she couldn't it would show more weakness than she wanted to admit she had.

"Don't say that to me. I have never forced you into anything." He replied,

"Not until today," she said as she stood up and walked over to the mirror. Brushing her hand gently over her face where it had turned red and was still stinging.

"I didn't force you to sleep with me,"

"Sure," she said bluntly as she tried to calm herself,

"Don't!" he yelled as he marched towards her, Phoebe spun round quickly and backed herself up against the wall. "Don't you say I forced you! I didn't! Don't make me into the bad guy!"

"You made yourself the bad guy! You made yourself him when you forced me!"

"Stop lying!" he yelled,

"I'm not lying... what did you think I meant when I said no! When I screamed it in your ear!" she yelled trying to push past him but his hand slammed her shoulders back against the wall.

"Shut up!" he yelled, slowly he moved his hand down her body to her waist and pushed it hard against the wall. He pulled himself closer to her – so close that she could smell the sweat on him. His torso pressed up against her trapped her completely; he was stronger and bigger than he was and for the first time since they had met she knew she couldn't stop it. He moved his head down to her neck and kissed her roughly – the gentle kisses had gone. She squirmed as he continued to kiss her, trying to force him away from her but her efforts failed.

"No!" she yelled, he pulled back and banged her against the wall once more.

"Stop shouting!" he said, quietly but cruelly, he didn't have to yell to scare her.

"Stop it, please," she said quietly. "Please, just let me go,"

"Is that what you really want?" he asked, gently lifting her head up at the chin to look him directly in the eyes,

"Yes," she said quietly, she wanted it to sound demanding but it came out small and frightened.

"That's not what's in you eyes," he said.

Phoebe sat up in her room and cringed as she heard the front door open. Grams was home and now the truth had to come out, but would she let it. She didn't know.