DISCLAIMER!: I do not own The adventures of Tintin or any of the characters in this Fan fiction apart from anyones not from the TV series, comics and movie. I hope you enjoy this chapter I'm going to let a lot of information slip about Charlie's past but not the really important stuff which I'm saving for the end. I have a lot of plans for this story, I've already planned out the ending and started on the sequel. Well hope you enjoy don't forget to R&R (no flames please) xx

A/N Hey guysss well it summer holidays for us british now I hope your enjoying yours and for a summer treat here is a new chapter. For my story I was hoping for this whole Tintin/OC thing that he starts off as more of a fathering person, and then realises that he doesn't need to go through the pain she did and then becomes a friend of hers and on from that. I think I will make a sequel for this. I don't know if I'll give the story a happy or sad ending because both would be interesting.

i also have to credit to Stanley Kubrick for the character Alex.

…

Charlie's pov

Tintin led me into what was the most dim room in the house. There were swarms of dust gliding near the long thick sheets covered the windows, there was a small ray of sun coming to through a small tear in the sheet. The gothic chandelier had already melted candles towering high above us it gathered sheets of cobwebs and dust, I almost squirmed at the sight of the huge spider which made its home there. Tintin signalled for me to sit on a dust coated couch In the dim light and dust in my eyes I could just about make out the blue velvet couch with ebony pillows, I walked to towards the couch and sat myself down; the decaying wooden floorboards beneath me creeked . He sat across from me in a tattered brown leather arm chair, the dust blew off as he sunk into it.

"Well then what question will you have me answer?" I asked leaning back into the pleasurable comfort of the couch, it was the most comfortable thing I had come into contact with in awhile.

"You mentioned someone being held captive. who?" He asked leaning off the side of his arm chair.

"My brother, Matthew." I answered plainly trying to blink back the tears in my eyes at the thought of them torturing him.

"Could you tell your story from the start?" He asked inquisitively. That poor boy he didn't know what he was getting into, things no person in there right mind would wish upon anyone. Enemy or friend.

"Well at the age of 13 my father's abuse made a turn for the worse. He began the sexual abuse, I think he raped me about 6 or 7 times, he might of raped me in my sleep I don't honestly remember too much. After a while my father began selling me to other men for their pleasure until he found one man who paid my father £10,000 for me." I paused to see Tintin's screwed up face, he was attempting to block out the thought of her being forced on by older men. "The man told me I was special and that their boss wanted me to protect him; I felt relieved I wasn't going to have sex with random men anymore but I thought wrong. After my first kill I told him I didn't want to kill anymore, I told him that I wasn't special and if I was I didn't want to be. He then threatened me that he would kill me if I didn't. I told him I didn't care." I took a deep breathe reliving ever memory like reading a book of my life "...so he changed his mind and threatened to kill the children who were sold for.. for sex, they were from Russia I think. I begged him not to so I stayed but he had them killed anyway" He expected to see me tear up but my pale face stayed with the same emotionless expression. "I ran away after that. But they found me and said if I didn't for them they'd kill my brother. I told them my brother was already dead but when they showed me pictures of him chained up blood gushing from his open wounds." The memory of the pictures had me stiffening uncomfortable to show any weakness. "I believed them so I returned. After a while my boss went into hiding when the government came looking. To make sure I didn't talk he had my thrown in the institute. I think he hoped I died"

I turned my gaze from the spruce wooden floor to see Tintin's angered expression.

"I promise you when we get this man which we will. He will be shown no mercy." He finally spoke.

"I know I'm going to die you don't need to hide it from me." I shrugged. "Now that I'm out I've basically given myself a death wish." I made a faint laugh.

"I promise you, you will not die." I almost believed him when he said it so sternly and confidently but I knew the truth. I simply nodded as if believing him and when I was about to walk out the room he asked.

"What did they you know, do to you in the .. institute." I made a ghost of smile and rolled up both sleeves to expose the deep cuts and messy stitching which I had done myself. He stood up his mouth open with disgust. I then rolled up my shirt just enough to see my stomach. This cut by far disturbed him the most. It was huge it ran along my body like someone had tried to skin me alive, the cut was the deepest of all but not deep enough to puncher my stomach. This cut had no stitching it was held together by the best material they could find. Wire. Wire was sewn through my stomach stained with dried blood coated all over my translucent stomach.

"Mr Tintin I don't think you know quite what you are getting into." I stated. " You see these people do not take no for an answer. They play games, mind games."

"I made you promise and I plan on keeping it." He paused for a moment of silence. "Okay?"

"Okay." For first time in what felt like years, I wanted to cry. I didn't of course that would be stupid but I wanted to I wanted to let it all out and just pull my knees to my chest and cry but I couldn't be weak. I wouldn't let him me break me.

"We need to get you to hospital before that wire starts an infection." He took a deep breathe once again looking over at the gruesome sight of my stomach. I could see the sickness spread across his face pulled my shirt on hiding the scar.

"I think it was perfectly sewn by your truly." I laughed but he couldn't take his eyes off my stomach. For a second it looked as if he was about to cry.

…

Third person pov

After returning from the hospital with fresh stitching Tintin felt a little more relaxed he couldn't believe one girl the same age as him had been through so much trauma in their lifetime. " .disgusting." He thought with his face screwed up with anger. The captain could see him fuming and decided not to ask any question to avoid an argument. Meanwhile Charlie was tracing her stitches with her finger.

".These are so comfortable!" She jumped, it surprised both Tintin and Haddock this was the happiest they've seen her, and over stitches? "It doesn't even hurt when I jump!" She jumped some more and tested out the new flexibility of her stitches. The gruesome sight of her stomach was now patched up but still the scars remained as a reminder of her past. Tintin enjoyed seeing her happy for the first time in according to her years. "This is the best day of my life!" The words made a shiver go through Tintin's spine. Best day of her life? Then what was the worst day? this thought made Tintin angry imagine her being forced upon by several men, tortured and having every ounce of hope drained from her fragile body. He clenched his fists. His actions did not go unnoticed.

"Tintin are you-" Charlie was cut off by crack of a bullet piercing through the window to the right, It was only a few inches away from Charlie's face. The bullet hit against the golden picture frame which dropped to the ground glass smashing against the floorboards.

"DOWN!" Charlie yelled at both of them, all four of them (including snowy) got down on the floor avoiding the serrated pieces of glass scattered on the spruce floor. Another shot was fired. It panged against a metal dish on the floor next to Charlie, it was clear who ever was firing was aiming for her. She could tell by the speed of the shot 13 seconds it was definitely a handgun and wouldn't be too hard to take out.

She reached her hand for the most jagged pieces of glass in her reach and grabbed it. Her reaction was quick. Making a quick sprint to the door she managed to catch up with the thug with the gun. He aimed the gun at her yet she didn't flinch. She grabbed his arm twisting it behind his back and holding the glass to his neck. The thug was young, 16, 17.

"What's your name?" She breathed.

"Alex." He replied hesitantly. "Alex .D. large"

"Well Alex. ." She mocked his tone. "Learn to shoot." She held the glass closer to his neck pressing against his bare flesh.

"Don't." She spun around to find Tintin reaching out a hand. "He's not worth it." She loosened her grip on the boy and snarled at him

"Tell 'The dagger' that he needs to stop using the tricks I invented!" She grabbed his handgun and pulled the trigger not looking away from her target. The bullet plunged into his side and let a cry of pain escape his lips. She smirked. "You won't die but you need to go to hospital. Hobble along." The boy clung to side dragging his pained body away from them speeding up as he did. Tintin's eyes widened in shock and disgust.

"Don't look at me like that, He was going to kill us." She spun around to meet his gaze. "He had two guns he was getting ready to fire at you, you could tell by the way his hand wouldn't leave his back pocket. I wasn't going to kill him anyway, no not at all I want The dagger to feel special."

Tintin underestimated just who was helping him.