D: I don't own Smallville.
Warning: This story will contain child abuse and sexual assault, though not graphic. Read at your own risk. This chapter will have some situations which will partially describe the abuses. Please, repeat and read at your own risk.
JL BA AC JJ CK DL OQ VS CS JL
Oliver had breakfast made for the four of them when they started walking in. AC and Vic took seats opposite of Oliver, leaving Bart with the seat right next to Oliver. "Bart, what were you dreaming about last night?" AC asked, forking some eggs after asking.
"Chloe was getting married, you guys were the best men and I was the flower girl," Bart joked, causing them to start laughing.
"Flower girl? Even Chloe wouldn't do that to you. Though I could see you as a bridesmaid," Vic pondered, posing as the thinker before Bart threw a napkin at him.
"I don't think he could pull off the dress. Though, now that you look at him," AC commented, twisting his head for a look before Bart hit him with a piece of toast.
"Last time I checked, Chloe was dating and not close to marriage. I think you're safe for now," Oliver said, getting back to his meal and stopping the impending food fight with a glare to each of them.
--
No school work and no league work meant that Bart was on the computer, surfing the news archives for anything useful. He never really remembered the dreams, but he remembered the conversation and the one thing that he had said.
You remind me so much of your mother, the least you can do is take her place.
Which led him to think of two possibilities. One, she divorced him. Two, he killed her. He was really hoping it wasn't the second one. So he was going through the court records they would put in the newspaper to see that she had divorced him. After an hour of looking through everything he could that would have told him anything, he searched her name in an engine.
"Meloni Allen was declared missing by her husband…" he mumbled before reading the entire article. He saw several related articles. He clicked on one that showed an ME assistant rolling a stretcher with a covered body out of a wooded area. He read the first paragraph and then ran to the bathroom to throw up his breakfast.
Oliver heard the sound that accompanied Bart's super speed, but didn't expect the next sound. "Bart?" he shouted, concerned when he heard retching sounds in the bathroom. He grabbed a glass out of a cabinet and filled it with water. He walked fast to the bathroom. Bart had just finished the last of the upheavals and had taken to sitting with his back to the wall.
Oliver helped Bart up and over to the sink. He instructed Bart and held him up until Bart stopped. "Feeling better?"
"A little."
"Do you want to tell me what's going on?"
Bart allowed his legs to collapse under him. "I got curious to where my parents were."
Oliver sat down next to him. "And?"
"Mom's been murdered. Dad's nowhere to be found. He's a suspect in her murder." Bart leaned back against the wall.
"Do they have any leads?"
"No." Oliver put an arm around Bart's shoulder. "Can I tell you something?"
"Sure."
"Dad hit Mom. I'm pretty sure he did kill her." He looked up at Oliver. "He was one of the guards at the Ridge Facility. He beat me as payback for leaving the family and having powers."
Oliver pulled him into his chest. Bart sniffed a couple of times and cried a few tears. "No one's going to do that here. You're safe from him, all right?" He looked down at Bart for a nod. Bart let out a weak smile before putting his head down. "Come on, we should try to replace some of the stuff that was in your stomach." He helped him up and out of the bathroom.
--
"Bart!" Dad yelled. Six year old Bart was cleaning up the orange juice he split trying to pour for himself. He put the towel back on the hook and sat at the small table. His father entered the room. "Where's your mother?" he asked at the boy.
"She went to the store. She wanted to do something special." He took a sip of his orange juice. His father washed his hands of the dirt that was on them, then went to dry his hands. His hands didn't seem dry, and smelling them gave him why.
"Bart! Did you spill the orange juice?" Dad shouted. Bart cowered under the table, trying to make himself as small as possible. His father grabbed his arm and pulled him out from under the table. He hit the boy several times. The boy curled up after the beating and was crying from the pain. His father was replacing the towel and washing his hands again.
Bart's mother walked in, carrying two arms full of groceries. "What happened?" she asked. She was holding back tears and the nature of a mother to go over and help Bart. She knew it would only anger him more and hurt both of them.
"Your son split the orange juice and didn't clean it up properly," he casually spoke a minute after beating his son. He walked out of the kitchen and settled down in front of the TV.
--
It hurt. It really hurt. His weight was hurting his hips and legs and the pressure inside him was bruising him. He heard the grunts and was trying to stay still to keep everything from hurting him more. A hand went up his shirt and he squeezed his eyelids, keeping out all the senses of his body. The hand stopped along a long line that went down his spine. He tried to repress a shiver and was rewarded for failing by nails digging into the middle of his back.
"I remember this. You were out with the girl down the street. I told you to never go down there again. You didn't listen. You still don't listen." He forced one last time, releasing before getting off him. His pants were pulled up over him and a zipper sounded again.
"Hey, Lloyd, everyone's heading out to the new place. Ya coming?" someone yelled into the room.
"Give me a minute," he answered. He couldn't see what was going on before he felt more electricity going through his body. He passed out for a second time.
--
Bart didn't wake up screaming this time. It was more of a gasp. He tried to get his breathing back while trying to find his pillows. He didn't want to have Oliver come in again. He was probably sleeping and didn't want to seem like a wimp. He grabbed his pillow and went over to the corner next to the door. He hugged his pillow close and cried into it.
"Bart?" a voice whispered. He didn't look up to Oliver walking into the room. He registered a hand going across his back, which caused him to flinch and look up. "What's going on?" He kept crouched next to Bart, trying to find a way to comfort him. He didn't have to do anything when Bart grabbed him around the waist and sobbed into his chest. Oliver closed the hug. He looked down at the back of the youngest and noticed a long white line starting at the base of his neck.
"Ollie?" a small voice said. Oliver looked at Bart's face, which had half turned toward him. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"
"No. I've been up." He broke the hug between them. "I want you to tell me. What's the truth? What happened?"
Bart looked down for a minute, trying to decide. "My Dad didn't beat me at the facility. He… he…" Bart couldn't get it out. Oliver sat down beside him and pulled Bart beside him.
"What did he do, Bart?"
"He raped me."
JL BA AC JJ CK DL OQ VS CS JL
Okay, this isn't the end of the story just yet. Oliver needs to have a showdown. And I have a great tie-in to this story. And, I warned you.
Read please. Review pretty please.