Definitely one of the darkest chapters I've written. But yet, it still seems lighter than the next one...just a warning.

DarylDixon'sLover: That's kinda what I had going for Rumlow. Hostel-type character.

SevaraRose: Rumlow would definitely be the creepy uncle. Hands down.

Tiphanie: You are going to hate me! Get your tissues ready. You're going to need them. A lot of them. Libby is about to be on a rocket, heading straight towards hell's gates.

Enjoy!

A couple weeks passed, and I was almost completely healed. I had the cast taken off my ankle, but I still had a limp. My shoulder was completely healed, only a faint scar left. It made me nervous, knowing what was coming. I knew he could have done it weeks ago, but that was too easy. Making me wait was part of his plan. Break me down until it finally happened. Kill me with the suspense.

I should have seen it coming. I should have known it could happen any day. I had let myself slip, keeping myself unguarded. Not staying on my toes like I had been. I was half undressed, and I didn't even hear him come in. He made no sound on the carpet, not even the rustle of clothing. I didn't know he was there, until his hand had covered my mouth, his other arm snaking around my waist. I screamed, struggling against him, but it wasn't worth it.

He forced me, face down on the bed, one of his hands holding my wrists behind my back.

"No, please!" I cried, trying to fight, but it was no use.

"He's not going to listen to you, sweetheart." Rumlow said, casually walking in the door. "He only listens to me."

I whimpered as pressure was placed on my back, two cold, metal fingers on either side of my neck.

"You didn't think it would be me doing the honors, did you?" Rumlow asked, walking towards where I was bent over the bed. "As much as I would enjoy that, I thought this would be more fun." Rumlow nodded and the pressure was gone, Rumlow taking his place, yanking me up by my hair. "And you're already halfway ready for us." Rumlow held me tightly against him, his hand tangled in my hair, holding my head back. "You see him?"

I did. Here he was, standing in front of me. The last time I'd seen him, he was still completely covered, his identity completely anonymous. He had defended me the last time we'd been in a room together. Now...now I could see his face. He was scruffy looking, stubble on his chin, his hair hanging in his face. But he was handsome, strong jaw, high cheekbones, light blue, almost grey eyes. And there was nothing in them. No emotion, no...anything. It made him seem inhuman, a machine, the metal arm helping that. His stare was blank as he looked at me.

"See, like I said. He doesn't even remember you. That just makes it more fun." Rumlow shoved me down on the bed, trading places with the Asset again. "He probably hasn't had a hard-on in 50 years, so I may need to help get the ball rolling here. Well, at least for him." Rumlow said, and I heard a zipper, followed by some rustling.

There was a cold hand on my lower back, before fingers curled around my sweatpants, literally ripping them off, exposing me to the cool air in the room. I yelped, trying to quiet myself.

"Don't worry about that, princess." Rumlow said, brushing the hair from my face. "Renata was given the rest of the day off. Scream as loud as you want. No one's going to hear you." There was more rustling. "You remember where to stick it, right? Just like we talked about."

I whimpered as a finger probed my slit, my pleads getting louder as a metal finger inserted itself into my most secret of places. I had been stupid, saving myself for marriage. I regretted that now. It meant this was only going to be more painful.

"Ooh, tight one, isn't she?" Rumlow said, his hand holding down my writhing body as I tried to wiggle my way free.

"Please, Asset." I whimpered and suddenly I was yanked up by my hair, a rough hand grabbing my chin painfully tight.

"You don't get to call him that." Rumlow growled, squeezing my jaw. "You don't get to call him anything." Rumlow shoved my head down into my mattress, muffling all sound.

I screamed as a metal hand gripped my hip painfully tight, stopping all movement. If I moved too much, or tried to escape, I was going to break something else. The hand adjusted my hips before I felt him. I wasn't sure if it was him doing it, or if Rumlow was helping him, but I didn't want to know.

"Please." I whimpered, trying to look back at them through my hair that was stuck to my face from my tears and the nervous sweat that had started to form. "Please, no."

My only answer was excruciating pain. I screamed, clawing at the comforter as I felt like I was being ripped in half. Rumlow was speaking, saying something, but my ears were ringing. I'd endured a lot of pain over the past few weeks, yet none of it was like this. This was more than physical pain. I was sure the comforter was going to rip with how tightly I was gripping it.

He started moving, the fabric of his cargo pants rough against my ass as he moved in and out of me. I cried, and sobbed, begging for it to be over quickly. He gripped my hips again, lifting me further onto the bed so not even my toes were on the floor anymore. I had to grip, no anchor, I was just floating. I wished I could be numb as he tore through me, another scream leaving my lips as he pulled my legs further apart, allowing him to go deeper.

The leather of his uniform was rough against my back as he folded himself over me, his arms coming up by mine, his metal hand nearly ripping the comforter as he gripped it. I could hear his small grunts in my ear, his breath fanning over my shoulder. I cried out as his thrusts grew harder, his hips slamming against my ass. Two of his flesh fingers forced their way into my mouth, shoving clear back to the second knuckle, muffling my cries. I gagged on them every time he thrust into me, drool slipping out around them, dripping on to the comforter. I gripped both his wrists, begging for mercy, anything, but I got nothing in return.

I had no tears left as he tore his fingers from my mouth, leaving a coppery taste behind. His hands flew to my hips as he jerked upright. Rumlow pulled him back and I felt him, hot against my skin, painting me with his seed. My walls were clenching painfully from being stretched, ripped apart, violated. Small cries of pain and whimpers were all I had left as Rumlow cupped my chin, jerking my head up.

"Smile for the camera." He said, and through my hair I could see a video camera, set up against the wall.

Rumlow released me, and I laid there, limp. Numb. Empty.

"You made my Asset bleed." Rumlow said, pulling me up, ignoring my cry of protest.

Indeed I had made him bleed. There were teeth marks on his knuckles, blood starting to pool in a couple of them. Rumlow shoved me on my side on the bed, and I slipped off the edge, thumping to the floor, crying out in pain.

"Clean yourself up. I'll be back later." Rumlow said, tucking the Asset back in his pants before leading him from my room, grabbing the camera on his way out.

He slammed and locked the door, and I sat there, sobbing into the side of my bed. There were blood and semen stains on my comforter, and my thighs. I could feel the Assets semen drying on my back, making my skin feel tight. My abdomen hurt, my pelvis feeling like it had been pried apart. Every inhale hurt, but I couldn't stop the sobs that left me. I felt dirty, defiled. And at most, betrayed. I couldn't believe I had actually started to feel something for that machine. Sure, he had beat me up, half blinded me, almost tore my arm off, but he had defended me. From Rumlow. Rumlow had said he'd fought when he'd heard me scream. But whatever they'd done to him, that man was gone. He was a machine again. Just completing his mission. Rumlow was right. That was worse than if he had done it. I would have rather had Rumlow, than the Asset. Maybe I finally was breaking.

Rumlow led the Asset from Olivia's room. He could still hear her crying as he walked down the hall. Pierce was sitting in the living area with a glass of wine. He had his back to the two, but he heard them approach. He heard everything.

"If she's not broken now, she will be when I'm finished with her." Rumlow said.

"You didn't hurt her too badly, did you?" Pierce asked, turning his head slightly.

"No. Not physically at least. She made him bleed, though. Got his knuckles with her teeth." Rumlow said, examining the Asset's hand. It had stopped bleeding, already showing signs of healing.

"Take him back to base." Pierce said. "Get him situated, then come back here."

"And Olivia?" Rumlow asked, looking back at her door for a moment.

"I'll go in and check on her in a while. Make sure she doesn't drown herself in the bathtub." Pierce said, rather nonchalantly as he took a sip from his wine glass, not bothering to turn around as Rumlow left with the Asset. Maybe Olivia was finally breaking.