I am warning here...this chapter is filled with a LOT of non-con/rape. If it is a trigger, don't read or don't blame me for a bad experience...just sayin'...You HAVE been warned!

"I'm sorry I lied to you, John," Sherlock said suddenly. John started at his voice. He had not realised that he had been asleep, but obviously he had. The lack of sunlight coming through the French doors overlooking the Potomac River indicated as much. They had obviously slept a lot longer than he had thought. Most of their Christmas Day was gone.

"What?" he asked groggily.

"I was raped in uni," Sherlock said so quietly John had to struggle to hear, the strain evident in his voice.

"Raped," John stated rather than asked. It had been more than apparent by Sherlock's reaction earlier that something sexually traumatic had happened.

"Yes," Sherlock said tightly, "So, I lied to you when I said I hadn't been with anyone before. I didn't remember, but it was still a lie."

John hugged Sherlock tightly against him.

"It's okay, Sher," he said softly, "You don't need to explain any-"

"No," he said gruffly, "I need to tell you. I-I l-locked it all aw-way in the d-dungeon of my Mind Palace, but-"

"But I triggered the memories with my clumsy attempt-"

"John, no," Sherlock interrupted roughly, "It isn't your fault. Please don't-"

"Sherlock," John interrupted him, leaning forward to kiss the taller man on the back of the neck, "I don't blame myself. And don't blame yourself. Blame the perverts who hurt you."

"I do," Sherlock said with a sardonic chuckle, "I realise now it's why I was so awful to Wilkes."

"From the Blind Banker case?"

"Yes," Sherlock said softly.

John stiffened. He tried not to, but his natural instinct was to be angry.

"Don't hate him," Sherlock said meekly, leaning up to turn around to look at John.

John took the opportunity to slip from the confines of the sofa and away from Sherlock. He stood in front of him, pacing from the front of the sofa to the glass doors. He could see the hurt and worry on Sherlock's face, but the anger would not allow him to go to him.

"How can I not?" John asked angrily, "He hurt you, Sherlock!"

"He protected me," Sherlock said quietly.

"He protected you?! By fucking you!? What the hell, Sher!?"

Sherlock looked at him hopelessly. John's anger took him steps and steps further away. He had never unintentionally hit Sherlock, but he knew if he didn't calm down, he would…He stood at the window watching out over the peaceful river. He noted that there were ice floes with rushing water flowing over them in the middle for no other reason than to focus on something other than his anger.

"John," Sherlock whispered. He had wisely chosen to remain on the small couch, "Can I tell you the story that is now back in my mind? Maybe it will explain things."

John nodded, not looking at Sherlock. He wasn't angry at Sherlock and a part of him knew that he needed to let him know that, but the red that coated his eyes told him that he couldn't make that concession at that moment. Sherlock began his story and he listened.

"I was different when I first started university," Sherlock said softly, "I had learned from Mycroft how to blend in with the crowd, not make waves, not be…whatever it is that makes people not like me now."

John glanced back at him and smirked a bit, but remained silent.

"Sebastian was my roommate my first year in uni. I was two years younger than anyone else, so he took me under his wing. We became friends very quickly and I felt safe with him. He would take me places; introduce me to people, kept me social even though I was unbearably shy."

John shot him a look. Shy?

"Yes, John," Sherlock said with a small smile, "I was shy. But Sebastian taught me to hide that reticence and allow myself to shine. At the time, I appreciated him for it. We had most of our general education courses together. I, of course, had no problems with them and was usually quite bored. I helped Sebastian get through his first year with flying colors because I fancied myself in love with him. I was pretty sure he knew, but he hid his knowledge pretty well."

John heard Sherlock move from the couch and begin to pace.

"I mooned after him like a puppy dog for our entire first year and most of the second year," Sherlock continued, his tread moving him from sofa to breakfast bar to bedroom door, never close to John as if he knew John was on edge, "I know now that my infatuation for him was simply the fact that he was the first man other than Mycroft I had ever seen naked. But when he declared he liked me for more than just a friend, I was head over heels. We kissed often when we were alone. He taught me how to give a proper blow job. He never actually touched me as I recall now. But he was caring and gentle with me and treated me like a proper boyfriend as long as we were in the privacy of our room. I never thought about the fact that he was keeping me hidden, but I see now he was. Even so, I offered myself to him, begged him to take my virginity."

Sherlock paused. John could see his reflection in the window as Sherlock gathered his thoughts.

"We had chosen to stay on campus during winter break and I thought that it would be the perfect opportunity to consummate our love. Mycroft was in Europe with his lover du jour and Sebastian had no close family of which to speak. So on the first night, he invited five of his fraternity pledge brothers over," he said with a small smile in his voice, "They worked on getting me very inebriated. It didn't take much. I realise now that there was something in those drinks, because I had no inhibitions when Sebastian kissed me in front of all of them. Apparently, Sebastian had told them that I gave good head. In trying to impress the man I thought was my boyfriend, I sucked off all six of them like a professional.

"By the time I had finished the sixth blow job, Sebastian wanted more. He took me first. He actually worked me open properly before he entered me, which I have to thank him for, I guess. But as soon as he was done with me, the next one slammed himself into me. Each of them took their turn. By the third one, the drugs in the alcohol had started to wear off. I realised what was going on and started to struggle. That's when they started getting rough.

"Once they realised I was no longer docile, they all did what they could to hurt me while they fucked me. They were rough when they entered me. They would slap me or punch me if I protested. Sebastian would try to be gentle when it was his turn, but they continually egged him on to be rougher and rougher. I was so out of my mind with pain and the sadness of Seb's betrayal that by the fourth go around that night, I was convinced I was dreaming.

"By the second day, I was exhausted. By the third, I started to go away into my mind and started building the palace. It was only a seven room house at that point with one room for each of them and me. But with each time one entered me, their room got a little bit bigger. Over the years, I have buried those six rooms so far deep that I really did forget they were there…"Sherlock paused. John turned to face him. Sherlock started pacing again, his head down as he spoke.

"By the fourth day, they had somehow convinced me that I wanted their abuse," he continued after a deep breath, "They made me remember their names: Anthony, Carl, David, Joseph and Michael. They made me beg them to fuck me. They made me beg them to let me suck their dicks. They tag teamed me most of the time, one taking his pleasure while the others stroked themselves or recovered from having just finished with me. I only got a break when I passed out. Even then, it wasn't much of a break. Then, late on the fourth day, Sebastian sent them all out to get food, saying he wanted some time alone with me.

"'Rest, Sherl,' he said, 'Sleep. I'm not going to do anything but hold you for a few hours. I'm so very sorry this happened.' I wanted to believe him. He wrapped his arms around me and murmured quiet terms of endearment in my ear until I fell into a deep sleep. One of the last things he said was, 'You need to go away in your head, Sherl. Just remember it is only physical. If they can't get into your head, you'll survive this, I swear.' I have no idea how long I slept, but I woke, tied to the bed. Joseph sat in the corner, getting a blow job from the ginger, Carl while Michael was in my arse, Anthony was in my mouth and David was sucking my cock. There was no sign of Sebastian anywhere.

"They didn't leave me alone after that. There was always one of them fucking me while the others watched or slept. More often than not, I had one in my arse and another in my mouth. They would make me suck them after they'd fucked me to get them hard again.

"I never saw Sebastian again until the sixth day when he finally brought my brother and his version of the authorities into our room. I was so far gone into my head by that point that I saw Mycroft as just another attacker. I didn't recognise him. His men pulled the five off me, leaving me naked and raw in more ways than one. When my brother reached out to touch me, I screamed. I screamed like I hadn't since the whole ordeal had started. He forcibly grabbed me, wrapped me in the soiled blanket I was on and tried to bring me back to reality. All I did was scream."

Sherlock stopped and looked at John.

"I am so sorry, John," Sherlock said sadly, "I never meant to lie to you…C-can you…can you ever forgive me?"

John took a long, deep breath and made sure to look Sherlock in the eye.

"There is nothing to forgive, Sherlock," he said tightly, his arms crossed over his chest, "You lied about your death and that is already forgiven and forgotten…There is nothing else you need to ask forgiveness for."

John's eyes teared up as he realised how much pain he had unintentionally caused Sherlock in the past forty-eight hours, "The question is, can you forgive me?"

Sherlock blinked at him.

"Whatever for?" Sherlock asked incredulously.

"My god, Sherlock!" John said, the tears slipping over onto his cheeks, "For treating you like absolute shit on our first night…For being insatiably in need of you since the moment I saw you yesterday…For not being gentle with you…For bringing these memories back…you choose!"

"I don't need to choose, John," Sherlock said quietly, "I need you…and your love…however you want to give it to me. You're my choice."

"Sherlock!" John shouted as Sherlock stepped up to him. He started to reach out for John but stopped when John took a step back and continued, "How can you want me to touch you? It's no wonder you consider yourself asexual! I think I would be too if I was raped for six days…SIX DAYS! And by your roommate and his mates! Sherlock, I am so sorry-"

"Don't be," Sherlock said with deadly calm as he turned away, "John, don't be sorry. Don't pity me. Don't change who you are because you know my story."

"How can I not?" John asked quietly.

"Just love me," Sherlock said softly as he walked to the bedroom door.

"I do, Sherlock," John replied too quietly for him to hear, "Oh, God! How can I not?"

He turned to face the bank of windows as he let his tears fall for the first and last time for the man his beautiful Sherlock had been and would never be again. He grieved for the boy he could have been and for the man he had become. For a long time, he stood looking out the window letting his tears fall uncontrollably. Finally, he wiped his eyes, took a deep breath and turned to head into the bedroom to do damage control.

Woo. Hope that wasn't as difficult to read as it was to write...Rape is a serious matter...don't let anyone EVER tell you different...ok, stepping off my soap box...PLEASE, tell me what you think of this chapter...Doc and I have been trying to make it more palatable for a long while now (I AM sorry it has taken this long!)...Reviews are love...just sayin'...