A.N.: Thank you for all your kind reviews - I really appreciate that there are people still reading the story after such along wait. So here you go with two more chapters :

Chapter 21:

When he woke up again, he was barely able to remember anything. He knew that he had been awake before and that something had been different then, but he just couldn't recall what it was. It felt like all his memory had been wiped away – well at least the good part of it. He was sure whatever he couldn't recall any more had been something positive, for that was the one thing he wouldn't be allowed to have. They had taken it away from him.

He didn't dare to open his eyes and actually it wouldn't make much of any difference – around him the darkness was as engulfing as inside of him. He wouldn't be able to see anything. At least not the reality, but maybe his mind would come up with some more horrible images which he believed to see in that darkness...

Darkness – the word seemed to fill his head and he asked himself why he was thinking about it, why he bothered.

He tried to shift in bed, waiting for the inevitable pain in his arms from the effort of moving, but it wouldn't come. He didn't even feel relieved, but was deeply surprised, almost shocked about this new experience. He was no longer tied to the bed, his arms were free. But with his legs broken, tying him to the bed didn't make much of any sense, anyway.

His legs – something was wrong with them as well and not just that. Something about his whole body's reaction seemed wrong... Had he been able to, he would have laughed about the realization – a hard, desperate and slightly hysterical laughter. It didn't hurt any more. He wasn't in pain, at least not that enormous amount of seering, blinding, agonizing pain he had been in before. The sensation had subsided to a dull throbbing.

All of a sudden some words came back to his minds – and a voice, a voice he knew, a female voice – someone who would not hurt him. It hadn't been one of his attackers, it had been someone else, but his mind wouldn't provide him with the information – no matter how hard he tried. But the words came back on him – the words she had spoken in that calm soothing voice.

„The doctors are taking good care of you..."

Then it happened – all of a sudden and without any sign of warning. His memory came back on him, throwing all that information at him he had just been searching for so desperately. He remembered the name of the woman now – it had been Samantha, Sam – his co-worker and she had been deeply worried about him.

He also remembered that something had been deeply wrong when he had first woken up, something that had caused Samantha to calm him down. But whatever they had injected him with that kept the pain at bay, also didn't allow him to detect what had been wrong with him, what had agitated him that much when he had first woken up.

No wonder she felt like that. He had no idea what he looked like, but it didn't take much of any imagination to do so. Her words proved it – he remembered fragments of it: doctors, hospital, taken care of... He had no idea what time it was or since when he was here – how long he had been...

And with that very thought all the other memories were coming back at full force. They had been there for the whole time, but his confusion about what was going on, his memory of something happy after all and probably the medication, too, had kept them at bay. But now he could no longer escape these memories. They had once again returned to haunt him.

He could feel his hands starting to tremble and he knew his heartbeat was quickening as memory rushed over him. He remembered his attackers – the ones hurting him, the one talking to him and the other one... He felt sick all of a sudden, memorizing what this last individual had done to him, what he had forced him to go through.

He could still hear his insulting laughter about his desperate pleas for help, he could still smell the sweat of the other individual's body and the most sickening thing was the fact that it seemed to him like he could still feel him – like he was still around, still haunting him, looking for him, willing to hurt him again and again.

He wished to scream, scream for someone to help him – for anyone after all, but it wouldn't work. Something was deeply wrong with his throat, something kept him from getting help, kept him from escaping that newly arranged nightmare – only for him. He knew he couldn't move, he couldn't go anywhere, he couldn't keep them from doing it again.

Why had they done it? What had he done to deserve that? What had he done wrong? He couldn't even remember. He knew they had some sick reason for doing it, that they had been able to justify it, but he just couldn't remember. It didn't matter anyway. It had happened, the reason for it was no longer important – they had done this to him.

He wished to protect his body from yet another insult, yet another injury as horrible as this one, but he didn't manage. Something was wrong with his legs, he couldn't move them up to his stomach to curl into a less exposed position. He needed some more seconds to remember that they were broken, had been broken intentionally and the memory of the pain he had felt when they had done this to him came back, mixing with that other unsayable, unthinkable one that was haunting him, swirling through his mind.

He could feel the hotness of tears rising in his eyes and he knew he had cried before – had laid there in bed – helpless ashamed and exposed and had cried about his misery. He couldn't escape the thoughts, he couldn't rationalize them, he couldn't make them go away. They were real – all of this wasn't just some nightmare, it had really happened, it had happened to him.

He felt his stomach rebelling as a physical reaction to the memories, the sickening feeling they left behind and he felt the urgent wish to throw up. It triggered yet another image – another emotion, another awful picture of his torment. He remembered when he had last felt that urgent wish to vomit, immediately being followed by the wish to pass out. It had been seconds before, before...

He couldn't hold the tears back any longer, he simply didn't know how. He hadn't known how the last time. He felt like he was back in that dark abandoned room with nothing else but his thoughts and the certainty that his assailants would come back to hurt him – again and again until he would give in or they would finally kill him. He couldn't escape...

The nurse in charge of nightshift at ICU had been reading a rather boring novel when she had been alarmed by one of her patient's heartbeats quickening. It didn't take her much of any thought to react to it. It was the every day - or in her case every night - routine and she had years of experience. She had a last checking look on the patient's vitals, seeing if he had calmed on his own, before she picked up the phone and called the doctor in charge.

„Dr. Collins – this is ICU. I have a problem with one of your patients. His heartbeat is rather rapid and he doesn't seem to calm down on his own. Do you want me to have him sedated?"

„Let me guess – Daniel Taylor?"

„Yes, Ma'am."

„Just check his vitals and wait for me, I'm gonna be there in a minute."

The doctor hung up on her and was left pretty surprised by the doctor's reaction. She could have taken care of this on her own, it was no big deal, nothing one of the doctors actually had to care about. But the simple fact that she hadn't even needed to tell Dr. Collins whose condition she was troubled about, made the reaction more easier to understand.

When she showed up at the nurse's office some minutes later, her patient still hadn't calmed down, which was exactly what the nurse told her. She was still surprised by the doctor's reaction and she even believed to see a slight sign of desperation on the doctor's face as she asked her for a sedative.

„You need me down there?"

„No, it's okay, I'm gonna take care of it. Thanks for calling me."

„No problem, Dr. Collins."

The nurse couldn't help it, but watched the doctor as she walked down the corridor, the sedative and a syringe with her. She was still surprised by the doctor showing up here in person and that quick on top of it. Anyways – it was none of her concern. She sat back down next to the monitors and picked up her book again.

He knew he wasn't alone any more – he had no idea how, but he could feel the presence of another person in the room he was trapped in. They had come back! They would hurt him again! He desperately tried to scream one more time, but there was no sound coming from his mouth. It simply just hurt and he wasn't left with anything else to do, but to wait in horror for what was going to happen next.

At first there happened nothing – like the person next to his bed seemed to think about what to do next and then someone touched him by his arm. He winced and tried to move away from the grip that was now tightening around his arms, but he had no strength – he didn't have the slightest chance to escape.

He could actually hear the blood rushing in his ears and the quick hammering sound of his heart beating. He wasn't able to calm down – not like this, not with someone he didn't know who he was and what he would do next to him, holding him down. All of a sudden he felt a pinch to his arm and he immediately detected the feeling as an injection.

They had injected him with something and he didn't even have the slightest idea what it could be. Maybe they were trying to poison him? The person next to him, still had the hand on his arm and then he was able to detect some soft words, the words of a female.

„It's okay – there's no need to worry. You're in hospital, you're gonna be okay. Don't worry. Try to calm down."

Hospital. The word seemed to trigger the other parts of his memory to come back to him, managing at least slightly to surpress the horror he just had been faced with. He remembered – he was no longer in their wrath, he had been safed, he was taken care of... he had no more chance to think about it any further for all memory seemed to vanish from him right then, leaving nothing but else behind but darkness.