Author's note: A reminder that, at this stage of my story, the confrontation with Elena and various protagonists at Christian's birthday party has occurred. Currently, Grace is still pissed at Christian over it, Christian is extricating himself from Elena's business interests and Ana, as always, can't stand the thought of the woman. Though she's still trying to be understanding of Christian's view that Elena helped him through a tough time. Thanks, for reading.

Oh, and Taylor Charteris, we miss you. Wherever you've disappeared to, I hope you're writing. I think that it was my first review of your work in which I said, "Thank you, for giving me something to aim for." It stands. I will never be as good as you, but I'm having fun trying.

Chapter Seven

With too many questions running through her head, Ana decides on the most relevant one and asks, "Do you remember all of the beatings with such clarity? You were quite young, right?"

"Not all of them. And I can't actually be sure that I'm recalling the dialogue accurately. I think that one stands out because it was the first."

"And they went on for quite a while? Oh, and please let me know if this is difficult for you. I just…I've always had questions, but didn't want to add to your stress."

Holding her a little tighter, Christian says, "I'm fine, really. And I'll stop if it's getting to me. Yes, they went on for what must have been about a year. After a while, they all kind of blur together in my memory, with a few horrific highlights. I recall more than one occasion where my mother was so stoned that she just looked on as he stubbed his cigarette out on my chest. I'm not sure why that particular torture began, but I'm absolutely fucking certain that he enjoyed seeing my distress at her apparent consent. He would look at me with such…satisfaction, presumably that he had control over our lives. If I'd had enough energy, I would have hated him even then. As it was, I only had the strength to be terrified of him. Before I 'met' him, I was completely toilet trained. But the beatings…I would piss myself just at the sound of his voice, or the smell of those cigarettes. And I wet the bed long after Grace and Carrick rescued me." Breathing a little hard, he smiles at her concerned expression and concludes, "Yeah, still not easy to talk about it. I'm okay, baby. I like being able to finally answer your questions, and incredibly grateful that I can trust you with this shit."

Satisfied that he's all right to continue, Ana still leans against his shoulder for her own reassurance and eventually asks, "And…you said that being touched was…I can't remember now; something like disappearing and only your rage can bring you back?"

"Something exactly like that. I just described how my mother helped keep me quiet, if necessary. But she was often too out of it to perform that…duty for him. And I soon worked out that crying or trying to hide meant a fiercer punishment…except that it wasn't really punishment, because I never did anything wrong. I just knew that, if he was there, I'd get a beating, and he was there every day. I think it started as a way of controlling her, but then unlocked some need in him that only my pain could satisfy. He'd even make me watch when he beat or fucked her. In some ways that was worse, but she put up with it, because he'd leave me alone then." Christian takes a moment to calm himself and then resumes, "What was…? Oh, right; touching. I started to disappear. I can't think of any other way to describe it. You know when people talk about going to their 'happy place'? I didn't have one; the nearest I had to that concept was when my mother hid me in a dark place. That was the last time I could remember feeling safe, so I'd just go…inside. Fuck, I'm not explaining this right."

Not game to touch his chest when he's this vulnerable, Ana reaches up to caress Christian's cheek as she says, "No, you're doing great. But we don't need to do this if it's too difficult."

Snaring her hand and kissing the palm, Christian says, "It's not. But I was just a kid who didn't have the necessary words to explain what happened, and this is the first time I've been able to articulate it. Did you know that one of the symptoms of abuse and neglect is delayed speech development?"

"No. But it makes sense. I don't imagine you had many real conversations."

Her understanding appearing to lend him strength, Christian nods and says, "No, I didn't. Even when she wasn't high, my mother didn't exactly talk to me after that; just cried and apologized a lot. I don't think that I went to hospital during that time. But I have a vague memory of some woman treating my wounds once or twice. I guess she was a nurse, or something. I've no idea. She was nice, though, and smelled clean." With a wry grin, he adds, "Not something I was used to."

Glad that he seems okay, Ana prompts, "Disappearing?"

"Yeah, I don't know how long it took. But I was eventually able to remove myself from the situation and not feel the pain…well, feel it as if it were happening to someone else. It's the one good thing he did for me. I think that pissed him off, though. And the beatings got worse. But there was nothing he could do, and I had no other way of coping. It's not like I could have fought back." With a sigh, Christian then continues, "Afterwards; when I was rescued, they tried to treat my wounds in the hospital. Poor Grace must have just about had heart failure when I became catatonic at her touch."

Imaging that same defensive instinct in a pre-adolescent Christian, Ana says, "Oh, God. And that's what you were like growing up?"

"Sort of. I soon discovered how to stop it; fight back. I don't remember the first time it happened. But I found that violence was…the antidote, if you will. If someone touched me and I immediately pushed them, I didn't disappear. God, it was liberating. I actually wanted people to touch me for a while back then, just so I could finally control what happened to me. I realize now, of course, that I'd simply swapped one involuntary reaction for another…a far more destructive one. Because I couldn't exactly go around asking kids to touch me, I began picking fights instead. And the fear of vanishing lent my rage so much power that I never lost a fight. I guess that Mom and Dad thought martial arts would let me express my rage in a more socially acceptable way, and it sort of worked. The discipline required to excel helped me control the urges. But the fighting continued until…well, until I was a teenager."

Not sure if she wants the answers, Ana hesitates for a moment and then asks, "How did she stop the fighting?"

As if he'd been waiting for permission to discuss Elena, Christian nods and says, "If I turned up with marks on me that hadn't been put there by her, she'd punish me."

"With more violence? How could that help?"

"No, sweetheart, that's not necessarily how a Domme punishes."

"Oh. She'd deny you pleasure."

"Yes; a remarkably efficient method of controlling a horny teenager. Plus, after a while, I simply wanted to please her…needed to, even. You okay?"

"Yes. But I think maybe that's enough about her for now."

Christian chuckles and says, "Then it's just as well we didn't do the second memory."

Shocked, Ana looks at him to ask, "You have a bad memory about Elena?"

"More than one. It was a while before she worked out my limits, especially as I didn't have enough experience to explain what would be too much for me. And I'd often silently accept whatever she dished out, in an effort to prove myself." Suddenly breaking the somber mood with a grin, Christian asks, "Sound familiar, baby?"

Not wanting to contemplate any similarities between her relationship with Christian and his with Elena, Ana lies, "No."

Christian chuckles and kisses her forehead, saying, "We'll let that one slide. It was a challenging time for both me and Elena. Thank God she's strict about safe words, or we'd have had real problems. In the meantime, I was a very angry teen who hated the world; myself most of all. It wasn't easy for her to tame me." At her expression, Christian smiles and says, "Don't like that word, baby?"

Angry that he appears to find her distress funny, Ana glares at him and says, "Not even a little bit. You're a Dom, and she should have known better."

With a shrug, Christian admits, "She probably did. But I don't regret subbing. Apart from the fact that it cured me of a need for violence, it made me a better Dom." When Ana is broodingly silent for several seconds, he gently instructs, "Just talk to me, baby."

Ana considers for a moment longer, thinking of all those women who looked like his mother and enjoyed pain, then says, "But it didn't cure you; not really."

Smiling his love for her, Christian says, "No. You did that."

Unable to speak for a while, because of the depths of her feelings for him, Ana eventually asks, "How?"

Christian spends a moment searching for the right words and then says, "From the very first time you touched my chest, I no longer needed to disappear, and I didn't want to fight back. And, for the first time in my life, I felt…worthy, I guess."

Before she dissolves into a weeping mess, Ana jokes, "You certainly hid it well for a while."

Christian laughs, a truly joyful sound, and says, "Well, yes. I didn't have the faintest fucking idea what was going on, and I'd hated myself for so long that it was difficult to reconcile the new feelings. Everything in my life up until that point had proven that I was less than perfect. You apparently effortlessly shattered every truth I thought I knew, leaving nothing in its place…or so I thought, until I was able to accept that you love me. You destroyed me and remade me." Ana sees the light bulb moment for him, and he continues, "Actually, that's exactly right; re-made. I think that I'm now becoming who I should have been if my formative years hadn't been quite so traumatic."

Ana ponders this for a while and says, "But you won't ever really be that person. You can't just ignore what's happened."

"No. But, for a while, it ruled me. Now it's becoming just part of who I am. Thank you."

Again drowning in her love for him, Ana says, "Truly my pleasure, Mr. Grey."

Because nothing else seems enough, they kiss for a while, and then Christian says, "Taylor, you missed our turn."

"Uh, yes, sir; a few times, to give you a chance to talk. Ready to head home?"

Christian chuckles and says to Ana, "See what you've reduced me to? My staff think they know what's best for me." Louder, he continues, "If it's not too much trouble? I'm hungry."

Ana pokes that ticklish spot on Christian's ribs for teasing their loyal bodyguard and says, "I'm sure what he meant to say was, 'Thank you, Taylor'."

Taylor's smiling eyes meet hers in the mirror for a second and he says, "Yes, ma'am. You're welcome."

On seeing that Christian's eyes are now hooded with dark desire, Ana raises one eyebrow in question, her body already stirring in response to his lust. He smirks on noting her reaction and leans close enough to murmur, "You haven't tickled me for a while."

Only now remembering that doing so is on the increasingly long list of things that will result in punishment, Ana suddenly realizes how they can both wipe out the residual stress from his therapy session. Practically panting with need for him, she decides to have some fun with it and crooks her finger to beckon him even closer. With her lips almost touching his ear, she whispers, "You'll have to catch me, first."

Christian groans and hisses, "Fuck, Ana. Did you not hear me say I'm hungry?" She's just smiling her victory at him when he instructs Taylor, "Dinner will be delayed."

"Yes, sir. It'll be waiting in the oven."

Noting the lack of surprise, Christian observes to Ana, "He reads minds, too?"

Ana laughs, all their worries temporarily put aside, and says, "I don't think psychic skills are necessary to know this about you, Christian."

"Hey, it was your idea."

"Nor about me."

Again moderating his volume so that only Ana can hear, Christian says, "Yes. The fact that you're just as horny as me is one of my favorite things about you."

Grinning like kids, the earlier strain of their evening forgotten, Ana and Christian finally make it to the kitchen. Picking up the oven mitts, he says, "I'll get the food, you get the drinks."

Having noticed something, Ana takes the mitts and says, "You get the drinks."

It's rare that Ana actually gives him an order, so Christian is frowning in confusion, not anger, as he moves to the refrigerator. Spying the envelope held to the door with a rainbow magnet and labeled "Christian," in a childish scrawl, he looks to Ana for the answer. When she just shrugs, he warily opens the envelope and reads the short note within. Having guessed who it's from, Ana is quietly smiling when Christian reads aloud, "Thank you for the nuggets. I named my bear after you. Sophie Taylor." At the love shining from Ana's face, he cheerfully commands, "No."

Ana knows full well that he's reminding her they're not ready for children, so she giggles and says, "I didn't say a thing. You actually made her school get more chicken nuggets?"

Clearly embarrassed discussing it, Christian pours their drinks as he says, "Not exactly. For twenty-five dollars a week someone will deliver a bucket of nuggets, Monday through Friday, until she tires of them."

Her chest aching with love at his generosity, Ana asks, "And if she never tires of them?"

Quickly kissing her before sitting at the counter, Christian says, "Small price to pay for an ally in the Taylor household; especially one who's too young to boss me around."

Ana laughs and says, "Christian, the child has you supplying her lunch."

"Oh, right." Laughing a little, Christian says, "Let's hope she never becomes a competitor, or I'm screwed."

Ana is almost too happy as they begin their meal, and soon asks, "Do you think they're engaged yet?"

"Haven't heard anything. But then I didn't ask."

Noting the lack of emotion in his reply, Ana asks, "Is this making you uncomfortable?"

"No. Not really. It's just…one of the things you've done to me is that I can't think of them as just employees anymore. But, again, I'm back to not knowing how to act, like when I was a kid." Confirming, with a bright smile, that he's not upset about it, Christian adds, "You ruined everything."

Incredibly pleased that he's beginning to understand how much his employees love him, Ana cheerfully says, "Good. And you have a way in; when you thank Sophie for the letter, ask her opinion. No way Jason would proceed without checking if she's okay with it."

Apparently mystified by the concept, Christian asks, "Truly?"

"Yes, darling. Oh, though they may have sworn her to secrecy, so it would be cruel to push her."

"You think that I'd interrogate a child?"

Ana carefully articulates, "No. But, other than Mia, you're not used to dealing with them. And I know you wouldn't like to upset Sophie."

Christian calms down at these words and resumes his meal for a while, then says, "She certainly is sweet."

Worried about drawing out his fear of parenthood, Ana limits her praise to, "And you're wonderful with her."

Christian shrugs and says, "All I have to do is answer her questions honestly and keep her from doing anything reckless. If adults were that easy, I'd rule the world."

Ana giggles and says, "Christian, you just about do."

Suddenly very smug, he grins and says, "True." They eat in silence for a while and then Christian asks, "So, do I just knock on the door and ask for Sophie? I usually text them if I need anything."

Thrilled that he's asking her advice, Ana refrains from hugging him and says, "Yes, I think that's appropriate. They know you'll treat her with respect. You've never knocked on their door?"

"No. And you won't, either. Remember what I said; living with them only works if we keep things separate. Last night was an exception, because the child's mother is in hospital."

Filing that fallacy away inside her mind as something to gradually eradicate, Ana cheekily says, "Yes, Sir."

Christian's resulting glare lacks power and he observes, "You disagree."

Grateful that he's willing to discuss it, Ana says, "I do. Jason, Gail and sometimes Sophie are part of our lives. Maintaining this illusion of them being mere lodgers is…well, I'm sure you had good reason in the past. But they already know everything about you, Christian, and I think you're beginning to realize that they adore you. There's no longer any reason to push them away. And I don't mean we should share living quarters. I'm just suggesting that we could spend some time socially with them. I really enjoyed my evenings with Gail while you were in New York. She's an amazing woman who's been through a lot. I'm happy to count her as a friend."

"Did you ever think they might be the ones who prefer the separation?" When Ana only smiles, Christian tries again to glare at her and says, "You're too smart. I'll think about it, okay?" Wiping his mouth on the napkin, he then stands as he declares, "Well, I have to go and interrogate a little girl, so you're on cleanup."

That familiar ache in her chest is too much, so she calls his name. When Christian turns at the door, Ana has tears in her eyes as she says, "I love you, Sir."

Christian gasps at the power of this deceptively simple declaration. His mission apparently forgotten, he leans across the counter and asks, "But, do I rule you, or do you rule me? Because, in this moment, there is nothing I wouldn't do for you."

Ana knows that he really means it. Blinking away the tears, she's just as sincere on declaring, "Then it's lucky for you that all I need is right here, in you."

Holding out a hand, which she readily accepts, Christian guides Ana around the counter to him as he says, "Leave the dishes. I'll take care of them and Soapy in the morning."

Where credit's due: Atterbury, for wanting to know about Christian's fear of being touched. I enjoyed finding out, thank you. I'll answer the other questions in upcoming chapters.

Whomever (sorry, memory fails me) suggested Sophie should name the bear after Christian.

AriadneInNaxos, for advice from another time that I used in this one.