Summary: Jump City had been peaceful for the past two years. Slade was out of commission after a grueling fight, super-villains were far and few, and the crime rate was low. So the Titans had pursed their hobbies. Beast Boy volunteered at a wildlife museum for children and enjoyed the work. The 19-year-old had nothing to fear…until Slade reappeared. (One-sided Slade x Beast Boy)
Trapped Chapter 5
In a whirlwind of misery, Beast Boy was stuffed into a bridal gown that actually covered his torso and arms completely, had his hair dyed black, and was drowned in white make-up to hide his green complexion. The girls were dragged to rehearsal after rehearsal and made to participate as flower girls until their feet ached and stomachs groaned.
Beast Boy felt the same way until the day arrived. He was all dolled up and ready to go, except for one thing.
"I think I'm gonna puke." He held his stomach, face blanching beneath the make-up.
"Pre-wedding jitters." The seamstress gruffed and swatted his hands. "Stand up straight."
Except that wasn't the problem. He didn't want to get married. Let alone to Grant of all people. The only reason he hadn't tried to full-on escape was because he'd leave the children behind if he did, and he couldn't do that. Not to them. There was one other reason.
Nightwing had taught him American laws when he turned eighteen. Voting was important, the Titan leader had told him, but understanding what you were voting for was even more important. Somewhere in one of those boring lessons, his leader had mentioned something about legalities.
Specifically, parental legalities.
Whether or not it was because Nightwing knew Beast Boy was interested in a certain Honorary Titan who he hoped to raise a family with, or because Beast Boy was simply curious about adoption, Nightwing had explained the process. One tidbit that stuck out to the then eighteen-year-old was that if one person had children with their last name and then married their partner, the partner would become the legal parent of the children too.
If he married Grant, then he'd become Angie and Becca's legal dad too. Which meant Grant couldn't rip them away from him without a custody battle. Which also meant there was a chance they could get away and out of Grant's life. It was a stretch, a very big stretch, because the three of them might never escape to later have that battle, but a chance was still a chance. He had to try.
For the girls, he would try.
"Ey," Fingers snapped by his ear and he yelped. Too loud! "Put on the veil."
"Okay, okay." He rubbed the skin with a grumble. "You know how I feel about all this."
The woman smacked her gum. "Don't care."
"Clairy, why do you even work for the creep?"
"Clarisse." The woman corrected and handed him the headpiece just a tad too forcefully. "Pays well. Can't leave."
The young man paused. "Why not?"
Was she trapped in a situation like his own? Did she join Grant because she wanted to or was forced to? He put on the veil.
"Contract." She answered, picking up the train of the gown and ushering him to closed doors. "Now go."
Moments passed till mahogany doors opened and wedding music crashed over him. Beast Boy swallowed, focus sweeping across the room. It was a private ceremony with only Grant's most trusted 'assistants' allowed to witness it and he couldn't feel more alone. Where were the girls? His cue came and he forced himself to walk down the aisle despite the building dread.
Grant stood in profile to the officiant as he watched the young man approach. Beast Boy averted his gaze, finally catching sight of the girls sitting between a dude named Ryder and the grouchy Clairy. Good. They were okay. For now, at least.
He stepped onto the low stage and focused on the speaker as Grant turned beside him. The woman recited her lines with a book in her hands. For the most part, the young man zoned. He wanted to marry someone he loved. Someone he could talk to and be heard and trusted. Someone who would love him just as much as he would them. Someone...someone like Jericho.
Poor Jericho. Did the dude even know he was still alright and alive? Did Jericho wonder about him too? Was he still looking for him? But it had been so long, why would he? And what about the other Titans? How were they doing? Were they okay?
He stayed in his thoughts until the man beside him announced, clear and confident, "I do"
The officiant's focus zeroed on him and he froze. "Do you, Garfield Caulburn, take Grant Wilson as your lawfully wedded husband?"
His breath hitched. This was it. The moment he had dreaded for the past week. Beast Boy tried to speak but the words lodged in his throat.
"Garfield?" Grant murmured, a slight lilt in the tone and the young man tensed. Obey.
Though his instinct nowadays was to submit or risk being sexually assaulted, he had to choke back a "no" and stammer a, "I do."
"Then you may now kiss the groom." The officiant finished, thus allowing Grant to lift the veil.
The taller man leaned down for the kiss and murmured, lips barely moving. "You're legally mine now."
They kissed, chaste for their audience, and Grant pulled away with another stab. "Even you can't deny it."
Beast Boy stopped breathing. Fingers grasped his left palm and Grant lifted the limb. The man slid a ring onto Beast Boy's finger and the young man glanced at the cold metal. An emerald studded gold ring fit snug on the digit but felt too tight. Like it was wrapped around his heart and squeezing instead of resting on his skin.
Lips pressed against the back of his hand and he gasped, air rushing into his lungs. The sudden intake of too much air made his head spin and he teetered back but an arm looped around his waist and dragged him to a chest for a suffocating embrace. His mind whirled, absently recognizing the sound of clapping.
It was official.
He belonged to a criminal.
"I now pronounce you lawfully wedded spouses."
Grant held him close and guided him out of the ceremony room and into the reception. The guests followed suit as he flailed for some sort comfort. Technically it was only an alias that belonged to the creep. Technically he didn't really marry the guy, right?
If he had, then Grant would've forced him into the marriage with his real name rather than a forged one. True, Grant had created the alias for him in order to hide from the public eye and from the Titans, but still. Maybe there was still hope?
Voices swarmed around them but one masculine tone cut through it. "Mr. Wilson and Mr. Garfield congratulations."
"Ah, Ryder." Grant returned and Beast Boy lifted his gaze. "So good to see you. Garfield, this is my secretary and right hand man, Ryder Hunt."
The slim man, a little older than Grant himself, offered a hand to shake. "Pleasure to formally meet you, Mr. Garfield. I've heard great things about you."
Beast Boy blinked. Grant talked about him? To his probably assistant murderer? He swept his gaze over the stranger, taking in the form-fitting suit and slicked brown hair with a clean shaven face. He was confident but polite and, oddly enough, had an air of calm pleasantness. He didn't seem creepy, but he worked for Grant of all people, so...
"Nice to meet you too." He murmured, averting his eyes and focusing on the refreshments. "Can we grab a bite to eat? I'm hungry."
"Absolutely, love." Grant replied, tone warm.
Warmth shot up his spine and his ear flicked, as if he could dispel the unwanted contentment. Did the creep really feel it necessary to call him that? And with a voice like that? Just hearing such a soothing tone almost made him want to relax in his captor's arms. Not good. Not good at all.
The man tugged him to the white clothed tables and released him when he pulled out of the grip to raid the salad section. Grant's and Ryder's voice faded beneath the general clamor and he skimmed his gaze across the room, searching. Where were his lil dudes?
"Mr. Garfield!" A high pitched voice neared. "Did you see the cake? It's got little people on it!"
Beast Boy softened. They were doin' just fine. He knelt, the wedding gown bunching from the movement, and met Becca's eyes with a smile.
Angie slipped through a pair of legs. "Becca! Ms. Clairy said not to wander off!"
He grinned. Seems his influence was a good one. Cause calling the tailor that would drive her up the wall. Heh heh.
"Hey, it's alright." He soothed the seven-year-old. "No harm done, lil dudes." He refocused on the five-year-old. "So what about that cake?"
Though he doubted that the cake was made with artificial dairy, it wouldn't hurt to look. If anything, it'd at least make the girlios happy to have showed him something. He stood.
"Follow me!" Becca chirped and darted away.
His eyes widened. Wow, was she fast! "Becca, wait up!"
Angie took off after her sister and he grasped a fistful of the dress and hustled after the speedsters. Though he stammered out several "excuse me" and "oops, sorry", he finally got to the center of the room without too many people scowling at him.
After the girls fawned over the massive cake and Grant had decided to find him, the reception slowly drew to a close. Too slow for his tastes, Grant held him to his side as they waved farewell to the audience members as they left the building. Not only had the day been exhausting, but he was ready to go home and take a nap.
He blinked. ...home?
Grant's house wasn't his home, it was...well, it was his prison so why would he instinctively think–He stiffened, absently registering a monotone in his ear. Was he really starting to grow attached to Grant? No, no, no. Not good. He'd heard of Stockholm Syndrome, but to think it'd happen to him? Especially after what the creep had done to him?
Beast Boy swallowed and forced. "I... I'm fine."
Grant frowned at him. The audience had all left and now they were alone except for the girls, Ryder, and Clairy. Grant gestured at the two other adults.
"Bring the children to the car, I need to speak with my husband."
Beast Boy blanched. Husband. He really was Grant's husband now. Like the man had said, he legally belonged to the creep. Alias or not, the ring was set on his real finger. His breath shortened. Three or four months ago, he would've kicked, screamed, and bit at the thought of his rapist forcing him into a marriage. But now? Now it was real and he had barely put up a fight?
What was wrong with him?
"...field? Garfield!"
A pair of rigid hands tightened on his shoulders as the voice snapped him out of his daze. He sucked in air but though his lungs expanded it felt like he couldn't breathe. Arms tugged him into an embrace and he sagged in the familiarity of the hold, burying his face into the broad, warm chest.
"...wrong? Love, tell me, what's wrong?"
Beast Boy crumpled, cheeks dampening. Love. Why did Grant have to call him that? It made him feel warm and happy just to know someone cared. But that someone was a criminal mastermind! He didn't want care from someone cruel, he wanted his friends! They were his family and Grant took him away from his home. His real home! He had to remember that. Not just in mind but in feelings.
He inhaled. And crying into his captor's hug was not helping him. The young man stumbled away and callused thumbs found their way to his cheeks, wiping away tearstains.
"Garfield, what happened?"
He kept his gaze averted. Though he knew Grant wouldn't stop pestering him until he told the truth...to admit his realization aloud was not something he was keen on.
"I..." He exhaled. "I just..."
"Garfield." Grant's tone deepened and Beast Boy winced. Serious voice. "You nearly hyperventilated and openly cried. Tell me."
The younger man fidgeted and wrung his hands. "I... You...there's something wrong with me."
The man grunted.
"I..." His brows furrowed. "I just...I'm..." He flailed for a half-truth because he was a terrible liar. "I'm scared."
"Of?" Grant prompted.
He tried to collect his thoughts. "You, mostly..."
The man narrowed his eyes. "Why would you be scared of me?"
Beast Boy scowled, grappling for a reason to fight. To prove to himself that he wasn't learning to like his captor. "Oh, gee, I dunno, maybe cause you're a criminal or something, dude? Maybe I'm afraid you're gonna hurt me one day, or hurt my friends, or hurt the girls, or–"
"Is that all?" Grant flattened his tone. "You know you're safe with me."
Ice clawed his spine. He didn't just know that one, but felt it to.
He murmured. "That's what scares me the most."
A stare burned his face but the man didn't pry for once. Instead, a limb wrapped around his waist and tugged him into a chest. "Let's go home, love."
He swallowed. "Okay."
~oOo~
Notes: Poor Beastie Boop! But ahhh is his suffering so delish, heh heh.