I am once again placing a graphic warning. Oliver is dreaming again.
I thank everyone that reviews! I love hearing from my amazing readers.
And I want to tell all my readers that I currently have a short story that I have posted about Oliver and Felicity's current break up called Felicity's Fury and Oliver's Green Notebook. I invite all my readers to check it out and let me know what you think. It will be short and sweet and over in no time.
Now get ready here comes the baby talk.
####OQ####
Finally, he'd pulled himself and Felicity away, and the time had truly flown, as they headed toward the parking lot. It had been at least an hour and half since he'd promised himself he would be out of here in thirty minutes, and he knew he needed to eat and wondered what he had in the freezer. He doubled the batch on some meals when he cooked, and they used the microwave to reheat. And it looked like tonight would be one of those nights they would be reheating. Again, his mind wondered back to David and his siblings, and he wondered if they'd eaten the pizza.
"You ordered pizza for David's family, right?"
"Of course, a while back. I'm sure they've devoured it by now. And since when did you start feeding the masses?"
Reaching, he grabbed her hand, as he pulled her into the elevator, but he waited for the elevator's doors to shut before saying, "They were going home to peanut butter and bread for dinner, with enough milk only for the three smallest ones. It would seem David's parents aren't good at feeding them."
"Well, that would suck. I'm glad you sent them pizza. How can you not feed your kids? And there are five of them? Isn't there some kind of help with that? A program that feeds them?"
"I don't know their situation, but I'm sure their parents want to feed them. Maybe the money's tight? Regardless, I'm making sure they aren't hungry tonight."
"I'm glad, but maybe his parents don't always know how to manage their money and kids are expensive. Speaking of kids." An animated, bright eyed, Felicity beamed up at him, warmed him with her smile, as she talked with her hands, and he loved her light filled smile, but then she said, "Oliver, did you see how cute Mindy and Tyler baby was? I couldn't believe how soft his skin felt, and he smelled amazing. You truly should have held him."
"I'd rather hold you."
Again, he pushed guilt down. But unable to help himself, he pulled her to him and his mouth found the pulse on her neck, ignoring the fact that he intended to distract her.
"Don't do that, stop, remember I work here now."
But, instead of pushing him away, she turned her neck into his mouth, and he savored her, tasted her skin and gave her an almost hickey, as he sucked and then bit before the bell dinged and the door opened, and he forced himself away from her, breathing hard into her sweet neck.
"Come on I WANT you. I'll meet you in forty at home," he whispered, clasping her hand and then he pulled her toward the parking lot.
"Forty? Why so long?" She whined and her words lit a fire in his stomach.
Finding their car, he couldn't stop himself, he trapped her body hard against the car's door, as he pulled her body close and kissed her hard, really kissed her, putting his tongue in her mouth and tasting her, deeply. And everything disappeared but her.
Careless and knowing it he let his guard down. No, he found he didn't care who saw them, since they seemed completely safe here, intoxicatingly safe here, and he just couldn't help himself, couldn't stop himself, as he allowed himself to forget anything but the way she tasted as he gave a quick look around to find an empty parking lot before he attacked her mouth again.
Oh, how she pressed her awesome willing body against him, and how he welcomed the rushing sensations, as his hands pulled her closer, as her willing hands pulled him closer to her, knowing they were safe, that he could love her openly, safely.
His breath came in hard gasps, wanting her, yes, needing her, and hating that he had to stop. However, he savored that he could kiss her like this and could forget to be careful. Yes, he treasure that luxury. The feeling, that freedom, totally intoxicated him.
"Heavens, but you make me want you." Her words breathless, she enticed him as her hand moved to cup him, moved to touch him. He jumped back as he forced himself to pull his lips from her lips. Yet, he thrust a little into her core before pulling her toward him, keeping her cradled in his arms.
He whispered, "Yes, me too, but we have to stop. You," he touched his finger to her nose giving it a small tap, before he said, "have to drive the car home, and I have to drive the bike home."
Yet, his mouth found the nape of her neck and savored her for an instant more. Slowly he lifted his head and breathed out, his words strained as he said with a groan, "And I have stop by the gym and change the team's laundry out to the dryer, and pick up a new prescription on the way home."
"Oh frack, did Mae up the dose again?"
Her face reflected her disappointment and his heart skipped a beat.
"Yeah," but he kissed her forehead and for an instant, she leaned into him, making his throat tighten, along with his jeans.
But then she pushed him away, with the words, "Oliver, don't tease me. How can you do that to me? You make me want you, ache for you, and then you tell me I can't have you."
"No, it's okay We can. In fact, Mae even ordered more sex with the higher dose."
"You told didn't you?"
She hit his chest with the back of her hand.
"Why would you do that? Now, I'm definitely embarrassed. How could you do that to me? Now every time I see Mae, I'm going to think that she knows that you and me, that we, you know . . ." She reddened slightly before she buried her face in his chest and said, "That we, you know, do it."
He snorted sharply, unable to help himself, before he grinned down at her. His hands smoothed her back. "Calm down, Felicity. Of course, Mae knows we have sex. Look, she called me on it, and I told the truth."
"Well that'd be a first." Her hand had found her way under his shirt, found his bare scarred skin and his breath quickened as she rubbed and smoothed.
"Not funny, Felicity. And this isn't a big deal."
"Yes it is."
He frowned down at her with the words, "Felicity, clearly, Mae knows we're having sex."
"Well I'd like to think that she didn't know that about me, about us. It's like thinking that my mother knows."
He grinned, then teased, his hands smoothing her skin. "Mae clearly knows we DO IT. And your mother does too. And Mae bragged that Warren and she had lots of sex, even joked that we need to practice." He leaned solidly into her core, pressing himself hard against her, grounded himself against her, while he ignored the guilt that he hadn't finished the sentence, but no way would he encourage the baby conversation. Riley might be right about not opening that door.
"Really?"
Oh, and her hot hands touched his back.
"Truly." His hand stroked, finding skin as he returned the favor.
"Oh, yes, I'd like truly like to practice with you."
She pulled him closer, and her hands moved to his waistline and he inhaled sharply as he loved her light filled smile, but then she ask, "By the way, Oliver, didn't you think Tyler and Mindy looked darling together? And I still think you should have held the baby."
And he suppressed his groan before he promised, "Next time, Felicity."
She pressed her body solidly against him before she added, "Yes, let's go home and practice. I want to practice with you, need to practice with you. Oh, yes, how I want to practice with you." And her hands moved down and squeezed his ass.
Her teeth found his ear lobe and nipped hard, bit him hard, before she whispered, "And I've wanted to practice ever since Mindy called you a hard ass."
"I am a hard ass, you know." He could barely breathe.
Her hands roamed further down his ass as she agreed, "Yeah, and I totally love your hard ass. Oh, how, I love your hard ass."
Reaching, she pulled him solidly toward her, making him swell, making him truly want, then she gave his ass a hard squeeze before saying, "and all I've been thinking about is how hard your ass is."
"You're killing me. You know that though don't you?"
She giggled and he leaned his head into her neck, sucking hard before lifting his head with the words, "Come on let's go home. I'll run back to town later."
He stuck his nose into her hair and inhaled sharply, as he breathed her scent in, and she pulled him tighter to her body, thrusting, as she asserted, "No, I'll pick up your prescription, while you change out the team's laundry, and I'll meet you at home in twenty minutes, tops. Please, hurry, Oliver. You're killing me. I'm past wanting you. And then you won't have to leave later."
Again she touched him with her hot hands, as she reached and gave his ass a sweet squeeze, causing him to fight his total hard on, his complete throbbing hard on. Gasping, he found that he'd lost the good fight, as his dick twitched and grew, and he pressed himself into her sweet core.
Oh, how he loved her small hot hands, as she placed her sweet hands into his back pockets, pulling him sharply toward her core and pressing hard and grinding just a little.
"You're good that this, at torturing me." He totally had a problem breathing as he pressed his nose into her throat and inhaled the scent that belonged only to her.
"You too," she said, with a catch in her voice. "Hey, what's this?"
But then he realized that she'd just pulled two pieces of paper from his back pocket.
Crap!
Pushing away from her, he reached saying, "Felicity, don't?"
"Why? What are you hiding?"
"Nothing, they're just my prescriptions. Wait. Don't."
His heart rate sped up while his hand tried to snatch the two papers away from her, but she'd quickly jerked her hand back, and took a step backward, and her solid look froze him in his tracks.
Slowly, she took another step away from him, as she unfolded the two small pieces of folded paper, as she collided with the car's fender. Watching she shook his prescriptions at him, while she tilted her head and gasped as she read Mae's words.
Her wild eyes flew up to his and he told her, "Felicity, it means nothing. Mae's joking."
Looking hard at him, she stressed, "I'm calling bull here, Oliver. Practicing making babies is a far from a joke. This is a 'we need to talk moment.'" She made air quotes with her fingers and looked him hard in the eyes.
"What if I don't want to talk?" He smiled at her.
"Don't you dare smile at me, try to play me, when I'm holding a piece of paper that says, 'Go home and practice making babies with Felicity. Dr's orders. Mae'"
Her eyes wide, he watched her bite her bottom lip, and he breathed out through his nose as he fought the urge to kiss her into oblivion, to make her forget.
"Alright, I'll talk. Felicity, Mae's making a joke. She wrote me a prescription for sex."
"Well, it's not funny." Her face whitened even more. "Oliver, I'm not ready for a baby. Are you ready? Truly, Oliver? Is Mae serious? "
"Knowing Mae, I'd say yes."
"Oliver, what in the world have you been telling Mae?"
Her eyes found his but he broke eye contact.
"Do you want a baby? I can't believe you're ready for a baby. That's past scary. Oliver Queen, playboy wants a baby. The Arrow wants to be a father. Call the news crews. Oh, frack did I say that out loud?"
Swallowing hard, he grinned. "Felicity, let me explain. Mae knew Tyler and Mindy had a baby tonight. She's the one pushing and talking about how she will never be a grandmother, how she wants to be our godmother."
He found he couldn't look her in the face. Looking up, he caught her wide eyes, and he stopped himself for an instant, then ask softly, "Okay, what do you think about kids? Maybe someday? I know not now but someday?"
Smiling slightly, she reached out and carefully smoothed his face, ran her fingers lightly down his face, then returned to touch his cheek with the words, "I think they're awesome as long as they belong to someone else. No one raised me, Oliver. My mother tried but she never knew what she was doing and my father, well, he left. Frankly, Oliver, I don't know how to do kids."
Grinning he said, "And umpteen nannies raised me, which means I don't know how to do kids either." Softly, his hand reached and touched her hand on his face, linked his fingers with hers then pulled her toward him trapping her hand against his face and savoring her touch as she wrapped her other arm around his waist and pulled him close as he leaned toward her.
"But someday right?" He found his tone hopeful.
She leaned into him before saying, "Yeah, someday when you and I are better. Someday when you're managing your PTSD, which you aren't right now, let me point out. Then, I would love to have your baby, but I don't think now is the time."
"Okay. I'll work on that," and his lips slowly found hers and she kissed him back slowly, lovely and he absorbed it as he released her hand to pull her toward him and she wrapped her arms around his neck and for a blissful instant only she existed.
Pulling his mouth away, his words softened, and his eyes found hers. "I love you Felicity and someday when we're ready, when I'm ready, I'm going to have a baby with you, a beautiful baby. Okay?"
She caught his eyes. "Yeah, okay, and I'll remember that Mae wrote you this prescription. And Oliver, I know we would make awesome kids together." Then she laughed and he smiled, pulling her close.
####OQ#####
Hours later, after making love and food and more awesome sex, she had rolled from the bed. "I think I'm up for a movie. What about you?"
He wanted to say no but she looked insanely happy about the idea, and he just grinned and agreed. Mere minutes later, she came out the tiny kitchen, holding a white bag. "I've got the popcorn. Did you take your pills? It takes three now you know?"
She smiled up at him as she headed into the living room. Playing with her tablet she did her magic and the movie Die Hard came on the screen.
"I can add to fifteen mg, Felicity."
Looking over her glasses, she frowned hard at him.
"Okay, I'm going."
Grabbing the pill bottle from the table, he counted out three pills and swallowed them with a drink of water from the tap then returned to the living room with the words, "There are you happy?"
"Don't be a grouch, Oliver. I was just asking."
"And I took them already."
"Moving forward with that cheerful note. Come on, you'll like this one." She patted the couch beside her. "This is a great guy's movie if I've ever seen one."
"If you say so." He just didn't really like TV but since she did and he wanted to please her, he sat down and tried to get into the plot of a funny cop heading to visit his wife.
"Wow you could have a gun on a plane then," he pointed out.
"It was the 80's. Look they still smoked inside then."
"Yeah, your hero just lit up in the airport too."
"At least try to like it, Oliver."
"I thought I was trying?"
The movie played on and he kind of paid attention but with the new dose he rather napped too, when the classical music Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 3, the 1st movement swelled in the background music as the cop got off the elevator.
Trying to relax, with her curled tightly up beside his side, his head had started to hurt, and he winced and felt his chest tighten as the cop ran barefooted on the screen with the bad guys shooting the glass out of the room.
"Okay, I don't like the blood part." She turned her face into his chest as the John MacClain pulled a hunk of glass from his foot.
"Well, I don't like the shoe-less part."
"The island?"
"Among other places. Needless to say, I prefer boots to bare feet any day."
She reached and took his hand, rubbing her thumb in his palm. "So, you're saying you wouldn't ever taken your shoes off."
"No, Never."
The movie played on but his chest kept tightening and against his will, his eyes closed and reality went away.
#####OQ#####
"Step away from the door, Oliver."
"Give me a second."
Quickly, he grabbed the board he'd rested on the top rungs of the two chairs, and he slung it against the wall as he shoved one of the chairs back.
The metal door swung open, with a crash, and Luke lit the taser before he even entered the room. Too late to move the other chair, he stood behind it holding on to the back, while his mind thought about smashing it and using it as a weapon, thought about fighting his way out of this situation. Though, he knew defeating these men would only be the start.
Tightly he clutched the chair, knowing if he tried them then he would still have to get out of the building, have to get out of the compound, get past the dogs, and get past the men on the walls with the automatic weapons. And he would have to achieve all this and then get out of the area without anyone sighting him, and in a t-shirt and barefooted, with snow on the ground, and he knew from personal experience the locals would turn him in for the reward in a heartbeat.
Sighing deeply, he knew he couldn't escape this time.
"Step away from the chair, Oliver, and hit your knees."
His heart sped up, even as his stomach fell, as Ivan came in the door, a wicked grin on his face, raddling the chains in his hands.
Three more men walk in behind Ivan armed with tasers too. It would seem they Ivan would be taking no chances here.
"Guess we're going somewhere? Hope you've warmed up the panel truck. I get cold easy you know?" But inside his heart pumped wildly and his stomach plummeted.
"Always the smart ass, huh? Knees, down on your knees, Oliver. I mean now and hands behind you head, fingers laced."
He hesitated as he considered his chances once more.
Luke lit the taser again and warned, "Don't make this any harder than it has to be, Oliver."
Knowing, he had no choice, he fell slowly to his knees. His heart racing, he tried to shut down his emotions, as he reached for the darkness, reached for the place he went at time like these, when he had no control and the unknown choked him, closed his throat up and made it hard for him to breath.
"You know the drill. Feet together."
Ivan kicked his legs closer together and he inhaled sharply.
"I'll walk if you'll let me. It would be easier than dragging me. I'm heavy you know."
Already the helplessness of being chained struck him and even though the cold assaulted him, a tiny beat of sweat popped out on his forehead and rolled down his temple.
"You know I can't do that. No, you're too good with your feet and legs."
And Ivan slowly clamped the shackles on his left ankle, then his right, as the other four of them stood ready to taser him if he even breathed wrong.
"Do I have a fight?"
Please, let it be a fight, he thought, refusing to consider the other alternative. Forcing himself, he breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth as the Ivan encircled his left wrist with the first handcuff.
"First hand."
Ivan slowly lowered his hand to the middle of his back.
Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to allow this to happen again, to not fight back, to not take the chance and at least try to kill Ivan before they tasered him. His chest began to heave, and he forced himself to hold back, to not try to escape.
Both of his hands fisted tightly.
Luke lit his taser, no doubt noting his rising distress.
"Easy, Oliver, you don't want to make this hurt more than it has too."
And the other three men also lit their tasers, and he tensed as the air in the room became harder and harder to breath.
"Other hand," Ivan demanded.
And he couldn't stop himself from resisting just a little, from pulling back against Ivan's hand a tiny bit, before he submitted and allowed Ivan to pull his hand down and snap the cuff tightly on his wrist.
"I'm going to kill all of you."
The words slipped out, bitter and dark, his face hard.
Ivan pulled the chain that linked his ankles and hands together tightly, effectively limiting his range of motion, as he whispered in his ear, "And I'm going to personally bury you in a shallow grave. Just as soon as he bleeds you out. And then I'll find him another toy. It won't be long now."
The man shoved him forward, Ivan's push intending to make him land on his face. Hogtied he couldn't put his hands out to stop himself, but he managed to flip and land on his side, no doubt bruising his hip and shoulder.
Two of the men grabbed his arms, linking their arms through his restrained arms, and they drug him on his knees across the room and out the door and out into the dim, cold, moldy smelling hallway.
The coward in him wanted to shut his eyes, wanted to hide, but knowledge is power, and he needed to see where they drug him to this time.
When they reached the end of hall, he hoped to turn left. Yes, he found himself hoping they would exit the building. The last place he wanted to go was into right toward that room, the room that would bring only pain, overwhelming pain.
But they didn't exit the building.
Heaven help him, they didn't exit the building. He thought his heart would pound out of his chest.
No, instead they pulled him straight toward that ROOM. The room that Hedeon had someone construct just for him, had someone tailor the chains especially for him. Yes, they drug him into the room with the chains that hung from the ceiling, with hooks on the floor to restrain his feet and hands so he couldn't end his own life. Yes, they drug him to the chains that forced him to stay put, to live, locking him down while the chains restrained the animal in him that wanted to rip Hedeon's throat out, that wanted to snap his neck and would if given any kind of a chance.
But the men with tasers gave him no chance at all.
Yes, the beast in him wanted to fight them, needed to escape them, as his arms bulged as he tested the unforgiving chains again and again as they drug him across the dirty floor and through the doorway of that room.
And, he could already smell the old blood that had seeped and stained the stone floor.
The island had shown him what helpless felt like. And he'd thought he'd known helplessness, but right now he understood what it meant to truly be abandoned, to be totally venerable, and he reached for the ice within him as he trying to numb himself, as he trying to cripple the person inside of him, as he tried to go away to that closed off place in his mind. If he survived this, he wouldn't forget what it felt like to be helpless, and he would make a difference. Yes, he would help the helpless. He could make a difference.
The closer the men drug him toward the chains, the more his breathing became restricted and his chest ached. Yes, no one would understand how being totally unable to stop what happened to him, scarred him and ripped him up inside. His throat tightened, and he forced the bile back down.
Helpless, knowing what the future held, he found it harder and harder to breath.
Heart pumping wildly, he forced himself not to struggle, not to fight them, as they drug him toward the suspended chains. He wanted to whine, to plead, or to beg, but he didn't for this he could control. Yes, he could refuse to give them the satisfaction of making him beg.
Teeth gritted, he forced himself to put his head up, to face this without a whimper.
Yet, as Ivan locked his shackles to the floor, the grating sound made him cringe.
"First arm, Oliver. I'm going to unlock you."
And all four of them moved toward him with their tasers lit. They knew if he would try to escape it would be now.
And he'd fought them before, had hurt several of them.
Ivan stretched his left arm out and hooked it to the chain hanging from the ceiling.
"Almost, there. And Oliver, I want you to know, I told Hereon you're planning something."
"You caused this? You want him to cut me."
"Oh, yeah, this one's a special treat from me. Teach you to threaten me."
Ivan reached for his right arm and unable to stop himself, he broke free, his hand reached and he grabbed Ivan's throat, squeezing and he found it worth the pain, as all four of them hit him with the tasers, and his hand contracted hard on Ivan's throat, choking him viciously.
Absolutely, he found it worth it, as they tasered him and he foamed at the mouth from the voltage, and he choked Ivan even harder before he blacked out from the pain.
Still recovering, he could do nothing, as Luke quickly locked his right hand into shackle connected to the chain hanging from the ceiling.
"One day," he said the words as he recovered from the painful shock. "All of you are DEAD."
Ivan still held his throat and coughed, cursed him, then he reached and grabbed him by his hair. Pulling his hair hard, he said, "I'm looking forward to throwing you in a shallow grave, now that's your future. You're done. I'm replacing you soon. Mark my words."
Oliver spat on the ground at the man's feet. "You better hope someone bothers to bury you for I'm going to leave you lying were you land. And if I have my way no one will remember you ever existed. I'm going to kill you and him and anyone else that gets in my way. I promise you."
His chest heaved with his words.
Ivan laughed and he narrowed his eyes as the complete blackness filled his mind, and another piece of his soul deserted him, knowing he meant every word.
"You just remember I put you here."
And the man gut punched him, stealing his breath, making him gasp sharply before walking away.
Hung spread eagle, he panted for breath as he waited for the pain.
And he didn't have long to wait, as he heard the small sound of the door opening and his stomach plummeted.
The scratchy sound of a record player starting met his ears as classical music began to play while his heart sped up. His skin clammy, he pressed his lips together in a hard line.
"Do you appreciate Bach, Oliver?"
He shut his eyes wanting to escape as the music swelled.
"Can't say I'm a fan."
Hedeon's knife began to play across his skin, across his back, touching but not cutting. He inhaled sharply as the blade touched, almost lovingly, but didn't cut, no, not yet.
"Brandenburg Concerto No. 3, the 1st movement, one of my personal favorites."
"It sounds like it repeats to me."
"Give it time, it will grow on you. This version lasts about five and a half minutes. And I have certain parts that I like better than others. You'll figure that out soon enough."
"I'm looking forward to it."
"Why do you bait me? I'm beginning to think you like the pain. Huh, do you, Oliver? Do you like the pain?"
Again the knife touched but did not cut.
"What no answer? Fine, then we'll move on. What are you planning, Oliver? Escape? Perhaps running again? Now that part, listen it's wonderful. Listen, right there, notice that, Oliver, hear how the music rises and falls, like a scream."
The questions unexpected, while Hedeon's blade drug savagely across the H on his back. His knife laid open his scarred flesh and the blood ran a small stream hot that tickled down his back.
But he clamped down and refused to scream for him, to give him the satisfaction but still his body shook.
"Nothing, I'm planning nothing." Yet, his body shuddered.
Gripping the chain above his hands, he held on tightly as the man made another slow cut. "And that part there. Such a nice piece. And you're lying. Ivan told me you're planning something and I believe him. I want to know what it is. Tell me. Don't make this harder."
Hedeon pulled the knife back before he slowly, sharply CUT him again, making the H wider.
"Scream for me, Oliver. And if I find out your lying to me, I'm going to skin you, piece by piece."
"I'm just training to fight. Damn you to hell."
"Scream, Oliver."
He inhaled sharply and gripped the chains with both hands, holding on, embracing the liquid pain, as he spit the words, "I won't do it."
"You will. Why do you insist on making this harder? You know I'm going to win. I always do. I can do things with this knife that you'll never forget."
Oh, how, he embraced the pain, his mind moving like a speeding train toward the pain, hoping if he could just bite back his cries long enough, Hedeon would go too far, that he would bleed him out for real this time.
And this would finally be over.
"Did you know it's close to my birthday, Oliver?"
"Well happy birthday, since it's going to be your last."
"Oh, yes, it's going to be happy for you're going to give me the best present ever. You're going to really submit for once. Now I want you to ask for it, Oliver and truly mean it."
He shut his eyes, withdrawing, before his spit flew again as he snapped out the words, "Cut me."
The blade contained liquid fiery pain, ripping through his back but he bit back his screams, denying him that much at least for as long as he could.
"I'm not convinced. Try again. Say it nicer this time. And I want you to scream for me. I want you to say PLEASE, and truly mean it."
Already his body shivered, shook him to the core, as the shock set in, and his teeth began to chatter. But he knew he had to say the quiet words that Hedeon expected, wanted, "Please, cut me."
And it hurt him violently to say the words.
Then he shook violently, his hands fisted as he bit the screams back, under the blade, as the man changed methods and cut in a sawing motion removing a piece of his skin, as the blood ran down his side, and he couldn't stop from crying out, no couldn't bite the agony off.
The music swelled in the back ground, the record finishing and then starting over again and again the same song playing over and over as he cut him again and again, sometimes making him scream but always he fought the chains.
"You bleed exceedingly nicely, Oliver. But I still don't believe you aren't planning something. Tell me what your planning and I'll stop."
"I'm planning to kill you, to kill all of you."
The words rushed out of his mouth.
The man laughed at him before asking, "And how are you planning to do that?"
"With my bare hands. I'll kill you with my bare hands."
"Well that's hardly new. But you're still lying to me. I'll believe I'll give you some time to think. A few days to mull it over. Now, Oliver, did you know that you exhale water every time you breathe? And with dehydration comes confusion. You'll tell me in a couple of days. When you beg for a drink of water."
Hereon walked to the door and he heard the words, "Let him bleed and lift him off the floor. I want him to hang by his wrists. And leave the music on but turn it up. Surround him with Bach."
He found himself pulled tightly up on his chains until no slack existed in the chains from his feet, suspending him.
Then the men walked away and left him hanging for a long time, a terribly long time, until dehydration racked his body, until he'd pissed himself, until he would have done anything to not be hanging by his wrists, his arms screaming and aching, even if he could reach the chain above and use his hands to take the pressure off his arms, and until the music on repeat, Bach on repeat, started stealing his sanity.
Hanging in his own filth, degraded, he could do nothing to change his situation but exist. The music played loudly making it hard to sleep. He found himself screaming, just screaming to stop the sound, the same music as his head pounded, his mouth dry as the desert, his tongue felt thick as he reached for the darkness.
#####OQ#####
Slapping him, someone slapped him repeatedly, over and over.
"Are you thirsty? Do you want a drink, Oliver?"
Ivan slapped him again, hard.
"There you are. Wake up, Oliver."
Slowly he opened his eyes, but his head became quickly too heavy to hold up.
"Pitiful, your weak ass is just pitiful."
The man poured the water out on the floor, wasting it, and it hurt him for he could smell the water and ached for it but he knew begging would only make Luke happy.
"Awe, sorry, no water for Oliver. You ready to talk yet?"
His dry mouth hurt, and he tried to find some saliva to wet his parched mouth, as he said through chapped lips, "Screw you, Ivan. Go away and let me die in peace. I'll find you and kill you in hell later. I swear."
"Promises, promises. Screw you, Oliver. That's why you're hanging here. I know you're planning something and you don't have enough sense to stop trying to escape. Now why don't you talk and get it over with because you're not going to get a chance to make me look bad ever again."
"Now it makes sense. You're worried about me making you look bad." His heart began to race, and he found the strength to pull on the chains, to lift his head and he said, "You'll just afraid I might make it one of these times and you'll be the one hanging here."
"That's not going to happen, Mr. I won't scream for him and Mr. I can take the taser. You always have to make it harder. Just like now," he took a slow sip of the water and then spit it in his face, and he couldn't help that his skin absorbed the man's spit.
"You're dead," he fought the chains for an instant, but weakness quickly assaulted him.
"No that would be you. You're the dead man, Oliver. Wait, you're not dead yet, looks like you'll survive this one, since I hear you have a fight in a couple of days."
Useless hope filled him, hope that this time he had almost survived again, then he crushed the thoughts, realizing he would prefer the darkness for this would be over, finally over.
"What no response? Where's your smart ass comeback now, Oliver?"
He shut his eyes and tried to ignore the man.
"I'm betting against you this round and after you get your ass whipped in the ring, he'll have another go at your rib cage. Maybe even give you couple new scars? Did you note he only cut your back?"
He flinched as the man drug the water bottle across the scar on his rib cage and it hurt for the spot healed slowly.
Ivan laughed then smirked, "No, he only cut your back. He needs you to still put on a good show for the crowd. That way no one will accuse him of throwing the fight."
"And without Mike here I might die."
"Smart as always. Now you've got the picture, and you should know by now he's not going to let you die this easy."
Ivan poured the water out inches before his eyes, close enough he could truly smell the water.
"But, no, you're too much fun. And he enjoys bringing you to the brink."
Ivan drug the water bottle sharply across his aching chest again with the words, "Then he lets you heal a while so he can play the game again and again. And you make it easy for him, Mr. I won't scream."
His chest tightened, and his gut burned. "Easy? You should try these chains if you think this is easy."
Again, Ivan drunk the bottle across his chest again, grinding the bottle against his flesh. Light headed, dizziness assaulted him and the blissful darkness came again.
Cold frigid water awoke him as he fought the chains, blinking, trying to remember, which time, where he was, and who had him chained now and he could stop from licking the water from his lips to moisten his too dry mouth.
"Oliver, tell me what you're planning."
Hedeon's knife slithered like a snake across his back, not cutting just intimidating him, threatening to strike at any instant. His heart raced, beat like it would explode in his chest as he cringed and heard Bach still played in the background. Someone had just thankfully turned it down a bit.
"Answer me, Oliver. What are you planning?"
"Dying."
Shutting his eyes, he reached for the blessed blackness.
"What? Wake up, Oliver."
The knife stuck like fangs but he could barely feel it.
The haze in his mind felt good.
A strong odor assaulted him and he managed to open his eyes.
"Ivan's blurry form slapped him awake again.
Someone had hold of his hair demanding, "Are you awake now?"
His head lolled back. The darkness beckoned and he reached for it.
"What are you planning, Oliver? Tell me and I'll let you down."
He told the truth.
"I'm dying, I'm planning on dying. Please just cut me and get it over with."
The chains stopped him from reaching out for the man's throat, from squeezing and using his brute strength to end both of their lives, Ivan's and Hereon.
"Bleed me out." He demanded. "I dare you to bleed me out. You wanted me to say PLEASE. Okay, I will. Ask me to submit. You've got it. Finish me."
"He's lying." Ivan's growled the words. "What he's doing is tricking you into finishing him."
"Not a trick. I'm dying. I'm running fever. My body needs water." With severely chapped lips, he couldn't hold his head up as he said the words, "Do what you want. I don't care."
The blade came swiftly, ripping through his mangled flesh, the copper smell of blood, of his blood, filled his senses and he lost the good fight and screamed.
His chest heaving he came back, as he ripped himself away from that moment still disorientated.
"Oliver, can you hear me. Oliver, I promise you're safe. Listen to me. You're not there."
He could hear her, but still his heart beat hard, pounded in his ears.
"Feel the couch under your butt. You're safe and I'm here. Are you all right? You're breathing to shallow and you're face is white."
Wanting to answer, he found that he still couldn't talk.
"Can I get you a drink? Drinking will help ground you. Ice."
The next thing he knew something cold touched his hand. "Hold this, Oliver. Come on put your hand out and hold this."
"It's cold." Come on brain, engage, he told himself.
"Yes, it is. Can you smell me, Oliver? I'm here. Can I touch you?"
His vision cleared, the movie came into focus, and her worried face looked up at him from the other side of the couch and knew he'd frightened her this time and his stomach clenched tightly.
The movie played in the background as he blinked several times, trying to focus, reaching for now. Then he truly heard the back ground music and he remembered that music, that damn music. With fingers that trembled, he put his hands over his ears, escaping the sound.
"Turn it off. Please turn it off."
Felicity reached for the remote and clicked it off as she looked at him strangely. "Something in the movie made you flash didn't it? Riley calls what happens to you a flash, and not in a Barry kind of way. He's told me that you can't control it and you just shut down. Can I hold you? Riley says strong, firm hugs will calm your nervous system and you'll feel better quicker."
"Give me a minute." His head pounding, his chest really tight, he forced himself to raise his arms and tuck his hands under his armpits, hugging himself.
"You're breathing too shallow, Oliver, deeper, breathe deeper. Riley says."
"Stop saying his name, you're making it worse. Just listen to me and stop saying his name. I hate it when people want me to talk and then don't listen to what I say." His words were brittle. Instantly, he realized from her fallen face he'd hurt her feelings. "I'm sorry, just give me a minute. Come here, hold me."
Willingly, she came and wrapped her arms around him. "Breath deeper, Oliver. You're here with me, not there. Here. Listen you're safe. You're here."
She snuggled into his chest and he shut his eyes and breathed slowly out as his heart slowed, and he breathed her scent in. Carefully, his arms branded her solidly to him, while his thumbs cautiously rubbed small circles on her arms.
"I love you, Oliver. Be here with me."
"You're right, holding you makes me feel better." And he had spoke the truth, her arms banded solidly around him, calmed him and he truly felt safer as he inhaled her scent and pulled her close.
"Okay I don't like that movie."
"I'm not thinking we'll be watching that one ever again, not if it makes you flash." She gave him a squeeze.
"Okay."
#####OQ#####
Checking his phone, he noted the time to be a little after three in the morning, and he began to think David wasn't working tonight for no lights were on in David's house. He knew he should go home but he wanted to see with his own eyes that David truly worked the docks in the early morning hours. He had been unable to sleep and a little recon gave him something to do. However, this recon looked like a dry run, but he would give the teen a few more minutes before he gave up and left, his mind wondering to thoughts of waking Felicity up slowly when he got home.
Still no lights on, but then he saw movement on the porch. He frowned as a lanky figure stumbled down the steps barely catching himself before the teen hit the ground. And he thought, David, you have your normal coordination.
The teen scrubbed his face, and then walked over to a green minivan slightly unsteady. Yet he had a feeling David stumbled from exhaustion, not drugs or alcohol. Frowning, as he watched the teen barely close the van's door, as he swiftly managed to kill the interior lights. The van moved and he realized David hadn't started the engine, no he let the van silently roll out into the street, and the brake lights lit as he cranked the engine, and the youth still waited a half a block to turn on the head lights.
It made sense when he saw David slam the driver's door as he ran the stop sign at the end of the block. Clearly, David had just stolen the family's minivan. Well, personally, he couldn't blame the kid, his body seemed clearly worn out and from looks of things, he would have never had made to work on time if he'd to get there on foot.
He kept well back, trailing David close enough to still see him but not too close. The youth pulled in a twenty four hour gas station, and he pulled his car over too, thinking the teen needed to get a move on if he intended to be to work by four, but then he figured that the family ride needed gas or the teen wouldn't have stopped.
David climbed out of the van and hurried into the station and then jogged out of the store and began to pump his gas when a cop car whipped in behind him and hit the lights.
As he watched the door on the cop car opened and Jeff stepped out. And he found himself hoping that the teen had nothing on him for once.
"Jeff," he said out loud, "you're going to make him late." And as he watched, Jeff placed his tan Stetson on his head and used his flash light to shine in the teen's eyes, blinding him as he hung up the gas pump.
Words were exchanged and he saw Jeff make the teen spread eagle on the hood to search him, kicking his legs further apart. And from David's body language, the teen knew he would be going to jail, and he found himself gritting his teeth for he knew David had no control right now.
Quickly, Jeff roughly began to cuff David, and he could see from the youth's body language he had started imploding, his shoulders had slumped, his head down, and his hands were fisted but he submitted to the cuffs. A few minutes later, David sat head slung back against the back seat, handcuffed in the back of the cop car.
Clearly he wasn't going to make it to work on time. And he wondered if David would lose his job if he didn't show up and what would happen to the teen if he lost this income?
And then it hit Oliver that Jeff would tow and impound the only ride this family had. And he cranked his car and drove into the gas station, parking next to David's car and then got out.
"Jeff, it's good to see you."
"You too. I hear Ms. Felicity's doing well. How's the team coming? Any of them coming to practice? "
"Felicity is doing well. Thank you. And they're all coming to practice. People are talking about coming to watch them play and talking about tailgating at the games. You should come."
"I'll see what I have planned when it's that time."
"Alright, what's going on here, Jeff?"
"Just busting a pothead, a repeat offender. And you're out early, Oliver. Or is it late?"
The question hung in the air but he ignored it. As he said quietly, "That young man's one of my soccer team. What'd you find?"
"A one toker. Clearly been used, repeatedly."
Oliver sighed realizing the man sounded proud he'd busted David.
"Jeff, I hate to say this but David probably deserves for you to forget you found that one toker on him. And I'd like you to forget it too and let him go."
"Awe, too bad, he's busted. This little baby's going to cost him five hundred dollars." He rolled the small pipe that looked like a short cigarette between his fingers and grinned.
"Alright, I know you're a cop, and I know you're doing your job, but Jeff, this kid got up at 3 am to go to work on the docks. And, he's not working to have a phone, like most kids out there are. No, he's working to pay for aftercare for his three," he held up three fingers, "count them three siblings, two of which are steps, so he can go to his court ordered soccer practice."
"You're breaking my heart here."
"And he's needs to be at school by eight, after he shovels fish for three hours to pay on the fines he already has. Look at his body language, he's plainly exhausted, and he's still out here going to work. He's trying. Couldn't you see your way clear to cutting him some slack and let him go on to work?"
"Whatever." Jeff shook his head. "Oliver, you can't snow me, I've seen it all and if I haven't I've seen close to it. I've been in this business for almost twenty years and this kid's a lost cause."
"You can't know that. He's only seventeen. Still a kid. He could still do something with his life."
"Well, let me tell you about this kid. He's just like his dad, nothing but at a screw up. I've busted this same kid three times now, and he still hasn't learned. Every time I stop him he's in possession. And besides that I've worked a bunch of domestics at his house. Trust me his neighbors wish they'd move."
Oliver's jaw tightened. "His father's violent?"
"I'd say, yeah, his dad's violent and likes to knock his step mom around, though she's yet to press charges. Hell, his old man probably knocks him and the other kids around too. And it's just a matter of time before protective services will finally take those kids into state custody anyway. They're headed to foster care. Oliver, why don't you just let this one go?"
Oliver frowned, realizing that he hadn't known this about David's household either. "Well that would tell you it's his parents' fault, not David's. Come on, David's seventeen, and he's responsible for four kids. He's a least trying to keep them together as a family. And he's walking a lot. Jeff, he's walking about ten miles a day trying to hold this family together and do everything he's responsible for."
"Yeah, and he's doing drugs. What a role model."
"He's smoking pot not meth. And Jeff, I'd like to see you walk seventy or more miles a week to keep your family together. He's been shouldering them for years. All you have to do is watch them interact. They're a family and he's the adult."
"Again, he's a pot head, and a dealer. He's going to jail."
He pressed his lips into a straight line and narrowed his eyes at the man, his words low. "I hear you but if you push this, I'll get the charges dismissed."
Jeff glared hard at him. "Don't cross me, Oliver. He's part of the problem in this town."
"I know that but he's a kid. Jeff, he's a kid raising kids. And he's trying to hold on. Maybe you could let these one go?"
"He had a pipe on him. It's a clean bust. I mean it. Stay out of my business. I'm warning you here, Oliver."
"Can't Jeff, Warren and I have an understanding and I saw your bust go down. You had no probable cause to search him, except that you knew his history, which isn't probable cause. The kid was pumping pre-paid gas when you pulled in. Did you even ask him if he wanted searched?"
Jeff looked downward and he knew the man hadn't asked, no, he'd just told the kid to assume the position and searched him.
"You do remember that probable cause means you have to have some type of evidence that would lead a reasonable person to believe David had committed a crime."
"I smelled pot on him." He held up the small pipe, clearly gloating.
"Really? Then why does that one toker have pot in it? I can see neon green in the end of it, which means he hadn't lit it yet. Did you find any other weed on him?"
"No." The man frowned deeply.
"No? That means he hadn't lit it, which means you couldn't have smelled it, which means you had no probable cause to search him. Now, he has about eight minutes to get to work on time. Why don't you let him go? He's going to lose his job. And he's paying on his fines and fees. You could say he's going to work to help pay your salary."
Jeff's eyes raked over him as he frowned. "Fine, I can always bust him another day."
He narrowed his eyes at the man. "Leave him alone, Jeff. It's pot not meth, and in how many states is it legal now? And look at the revenue it's generating, this state could learn from the others."
Arching an eyebrow, the man said, "Maybe it's you I should search, Oliver?"
"I don't think so. My opinion isn't probable cause either. Now the kid's only has a few minutes to get to work. Since I'm going to make sure your charge doesn't stick, why don't you cut him loose?"
Thunder crossed Jeff's face but he turned and opened the car's door. Reaching for David, with the the sharp words, "Get out."
The man placed his hand on the youth's head and guided David out, making sure the teen didn't hit his head as David climbed out of the car.
"Where were you going?"
The teen hesitated.
"David, tell the truth." He urged him.
"I was going to work."
"Where?"
"The docks. I work the docks before school."
"Turn around," he barked the words. "Today's your lucky day. I'm in a forgiving mood."
David turned and Jeff unlocked the handcuffs, releasing him.
"Coach?" David said turning, with a question in his voice, while rubbing his wrists.
"You're free to go," Jeff said darkly. "But I'm keeping the pipe."
David blinked several times then wisecracked, "Not a problem, it's totally yours. I didn't want it anyway. Wow, thanks. But I don't understand? I'm NOT in trouble? How can I not be in trouble? You're not going to tow the van?"
Jeff's face looked grim. "No, not today. But you better stop smoking pot because I'm calling your probation officer."
"Oh, believe me he already knows. I've flunked countless times." The teen gave a dismissive wave. "Just cost me money for the drug test. Worthless."
"David! Shut up." He growled the words.
"Truly, Dad's not killing me today? I get to live? Awesome, I'm going to live to see another day."
"Just get out of here before I change my mind." Jeff snarled the words.
Oliver stepped forward. "Go to work, David. I'll see you at practice, and if you need to, you can start bringing your brothers and sisters to practice and stop paying for aftercare. I'll talk to Felicity about helping or finding someone to help watch them during practice. Maybe they could play at the park next door to the soccer field. Just let me know if you want to bring them."
And even if he had ever discussed it with her, he knew she'd help. His team had become their mission, her mission. Yes, Felicity would help, would care for the children even if she didn't know exactly how, and he would bet she'd be saying 'Google look up childcare' as soon as he told her what he'd just volunteered her for, and then she'd find some volunteers to help. Several of team had siblings. Were others on his team also struggling with aftercare costs? He needed to address this problem.
David stood for long seconds before he extended his thin boney hand with the words. "That would be awesome, Coach. Aftercare costs are killing me. Thanks, Coach. Though I'd truly looked forward to dying cause I'm sure Dad planned to kill me this time." His words came out as if he'd told a joke but Oliver wondered if the truth didn't lie behind his words.
Would this one more time in trouble have been the straw that would have broken the camel's back? Teens killed themselves all the time. They ended their lives over a whole lot less trouble than this teen had already seen, and now he knew that David lived in a violent household.
His mind flashed back to the three year old sucking on his fingers and remembered, recognized in his mind's eye David's protection stance, as he realized Kayla had stood behind David when she had meet him. And, he would bet David had stood between them and their father before, stood when things were crazy in his house, when people were screaming and crying and the cops were on the way, and David had no doubt dealt with the consequences of standing up to his father.
"Don't joke about that, David. And, if you ever need to talk, come see me. I'll listen."
And David's none response told him that the teen might not have been joking. That maybe David had been sitting in that cop car thinking about ending his life.
But instead now, David grinned, actually smiled and waved, with a lift to his step, as he jumped in his stolen van and drove away to go work for three hours in the cold, then no doubt he would put the van back in same place in the driveway, shower, and he'd walk to school.
And, yes, David had smiled as he'd started his eighteen hour day, happy he'd gotten to drive away.
Turning on his heal, Oliver extended his hand with the words, "I think you just saved that kid's life, Jeff. Thanks, you have a great night."
Jeff frowned, quickly shook his hand then grimaced. "Oliver, you do realize that you can't save them all you know?"
He opened his car door and looked Jeff straight in the eyes. "No, but we just made a difference in that one's life. Did you hear him? How would you have felt if that kid had killed himself over you busting him tonight?"
"It's a pipe, a misdemeanor. Oliver, don't be dramatic. Warren would have slapped him on the wrist, fined him five hundred dollars and life would have gone on."
"Maybe, five hundred dollars is a lot to that kid and his family. And he's already on double probation. What if he caught Warren having a bad day? What if his dad had went off on him?"
"Then his dad would have beaten him up, and he'd have ended up in a Juvenile Correctional Facility, probably until he's nineteen."
"Oh, yeah, let's send him to criminal 101 to get him ready for real prison life. Now, that's helpful. This is a teen that can sleep through classes and still gets A's. He needs to go to college not jail. And what happens to those kids he's helping raise?"
"You need to understand, Oliver, that's not's my problem. They're not my problem. I can't fix them all and there are a lot of them out there. Pay attention. This is how this works. I bust them." He ticked it off on his fingers. "The precursor and their public defender cop a plea, and then the judge fines them, hits them with so many hours of community service, or now this foolish soccer crap and then the system spits them back out again."
And Jeff smirked at him and he thought the word, asshole.
"I take it you weren't a huge soccer team supporter then?" He forced himself not to clench his fists, to keep the small fake smile on his face as he added the words, what a JERK in his mind.
"Can't say I am. I think what a foolish waste of state money on a bunch of worthless punks? And those kids that teen is helping raise are just going to end up in the system anyway, which means you're just putting off the enviable."
"I don't believe that. David's baby brother is at least three which means that teen's been holding it together for at least four years and probably more. The question is why haven't you taken the dad out of the equation?"
His hands fisted and he longed to be able to take care of this problem his way. He ached to take David's father off the board, but he knew that would be a mistake in a small town, especially since Warren and Mae already had their suspicions about him.
"Like most abused women, the mom won't press charges. Most domestic abuse cases are like that. The entire family clams up as soon we arrive. Can't say I blame them for even if I do take the man to jail, most men bond out and then go straight back home and then you know what happens?"
"You get to come back again?"
"Yeah, or normally someone goes to the ER or worse yet, I get to call the coroner. And even if the woman and kids go into hiding, most of the time they go back. The court systems give dad visitation every other weekend. So what if dad beat mom up? Or if the family's do manage to get out, most of time the men stalk them, and then about seventy percent of their spouses kill them after they leave."
"Seventy percent. That's a lot. I never knew."
"Yeah, leaving an abusive spouse is the most dangerous thing an abused woman can do. I mean after their spouses leave what do these men have to lose? Every year, lots of women die at the hands of a loved ones. And let me tell you Oliver, restraining orders don't stop them from killing you. That piece of paper doesn't slow that bullet down at all."
"Okay, I get it. But my point is if that kid kills himself, your job is to call the coroner and then that's one just that you won't have to brother with again."
"Hey, I don't make the rules, I just enforce them. And no one will press charges on the dad. You don't understand domestic calls, Oliver. They are a no win situation for any one. And again, Oliver, you need to realize that you can't save them all. And," he pointed a finger at him, "don't you think I'm going to roll over every time you ask me to. You're lucky I decided I didn't want to do the paperwork or put up with the hassle of taking him to juvy this time of night. Don't push your luck, Oliver."
"Big of you, Jeff." And he gave him a nod and climbed back in the car as he thought once more about how broke the system had become. But at least for tonight, David had dodged the bullet and would live to work another eighteen hour day.
#####OQ#####
I look forward to your thoughts. And as always, thanks for the read. Now drop me note if you have time.