As Robbie passed the coffee table he noticed a plastic bag on it. Robyn had noticed the bag too and knew what was inside. Gingerly she picked it up and handed it to Robbie.
"I thought you should have this. It was at the clinic, if I could go into absolute detail I would." Robyn explained seeing Robbie's questioning look.
Robbie reluctantly opened the bag and stuck his hand in. Pulling his hand back out he saw what he was holding, it was a belt. As soon as his skin had made contact with the harsh leather and unforgiving buckle he knew exactly who the belt had belonged to. Mr Snail.
There in his hand was the instrument of his torture, the object that had laid unbearable pain on him in the past. It looked deceptively innocent now that it wasn't connected to the merciless hand that wielded it with such power. He knew that it wasn't as innocent and harmless as it looked. It never had been. The slave was the very essence of the master.
As he ran his hand over the uncompromising leather he could remember his screams as it tore into his flesh. He could remember the threats and orders from its owner.
If he screamed
Whack!
If he cried
Whack!
If he bit his lip until it bled to stop the screams
Whack!
If he begged for mercy
Whack!
If he said nothing
Whack!
If he didn't scream
Whack!
If he didn't cry
Whack!
If he flinched when Mr Snail touched him
Whack!
If he said no when Mr Snail wanted to treat him as a favourite
Whack!
No matter what he did, no matter what he thought, no matter what he said he would always be beaten. There were never any soft beatings; they were always hard and angry ones. Beatings meant to send him to death's domain if he was ever weak enough to falter. Every lash of the belt wouldn't send him into unconsciousness it would keep him from it. He was never beaten so that every old lash would dull him to the new; it was done so that he was always in constant pain. The only mercy from the belt was to relent and allow its wicked master to do what he wanted. For many years Robbie hadn't known what was worse, the belt or its master, the beating or the 'favourite treatment'.
Tears coursed down his cheeks. He wasn't a grown man anymore. He was young boy lying naked on a cold floor, frightened out of his wits. If he screamed no one would hear him except the one that was watching him with lustful eyes and caressing his skin with lustful hands. If he cried there would be no comfort, only punishment for being weak.
Robyn watched her father silently for some time. There was no comfort she could offer. All she could do was be there for him when he asked her for help.
His soul cried out against its wounds. There was no retribution to be had for what the belt had done, or was there?
"We can take it somewhere quiet and burn it. The buckle won't burn but I can throw it as far as I can into the lake. It will never hurt you again." Robyn suggested sensing that her father had come to a conclusion.
Robbie looked up at Robyn his eyes darkened by tears and the depth of emotion within him. He couldn't speak. He couldn't find words to say to express what he was feeling. His heart beat in a wretched rhythm controlled by sheer agony and anguish.
Slowly Robyn walked forwards and took one of Robbie's hands in hers. It trembled drastically conveying the emotion of its owner. She could feel his pain; it seeped through his skin into hers, from his very being into her own. As if brushing a tear from his cheek she was taking his pain into herself. Something she'd not known she could do but instinct guided her.
The strangest feeling came over Robbie. As if a massive weight were being lifted from his shoulders. He knew what Robyn was doing and tried to pull his hand away but she grasped it with an iron grip.
She'd gone too far. She knew that now. Blood seeped down her back as it had done so many months before. The wounds had reopened and crimson trickles flowed from them. As much as she tried she couldn't stop the pain. She couldn't stop the screaming in her head or the sensations overwhelming her. Caresses, fear, threats, orders, words of obscene tenderness. With her free hand she pulled the belt from the loose grip her father had on it and fed the pain she was feeling into the belt. After several agonisingly long minutes the belt suddenly crumbled into dust. Scars had begun to show on it and the leather had weakened. It had bled. The belt had bled like any human. Its owner would have felt the same pain. It was the only thing left in the world attributed to him.
The very moment the loop had ended Robyn collapsed. All of her strength had been drained away and there was nothing else she could do.
Robbie knelt down beside Robyn filled with absolute confusion. Everything had happened so fast he hadn't had the slightest chance to take anything in. Right now his obligation was his daughter. Thankfully she was breathing and appeared to be semi conscious. Moving his attention to her back he ripped the back of her blouse and gasped when he saw that her scars were gone. It was if there had never been any marks on her back in the first place.
Slowly Robyn regained full awareness of her surroundings. The pain was gone and she was conscious of a hand brushing her hair back from her face. With deliberate slowness she sat up holding the front of blouse to her chest so as not to expose it.
"Why did you do that?" Robbie asked softly with a slight hint of reproach in his voice.
"The pain would have destroyed you. I could feel what you felt even before I made the connection. You wouldn't let me take the memories from you so I took the pain instead."
Robbie frowned slightly, "I never said you couldn't do anything."
"You did. It's the memories that make you who you are. I couldn't take all the pain away but its bearable now. To take all of it away would be to take a fundamental part of you away, a part that you need to survive."
"Thank you. I can feel the difference; there is a lot of difference there inside. Sportacus and Kit will be back soon, I'll make lunch while you tidy up."
Robyn nodded and stood up with a hand from her father. She didn't know how he'd react when he found out his scars were gone too.