Warnings for continued sexual assaults, and many mentions of it, and mentions of child abandonment, drug use, reckless behavior and implied future violence.
The foreboding words on your arm
Chapter 7
The woman who abandoned you
They had shut off the sound of the video feeds, not allowing Clarke's cries and weak moans or any of the others grunts and moans to be heard, as the rest of Clarke's mates regarded the unconscious Abby Griffin.
Snickering, Hela said, "Can't wait to kill her in front of Clarke."
"You think Clarke will be happy with us doing that?" Jessica asked, though she was glaring at the unconscious woman in Pietro, Wanda, Danny, Rhody, Sylvie and Thor's grasp, "She…she is…she's so good. It wouldn't be like her to just say, 'oh, so fucking happy you guys killed my mom for me."
"She's a shit mother," Pietro protested, nodding to Abby.
"I fucking know that," Jessica snapped, scoffing, "But Clarke? We're already skating on thin ice with her. Hell, we probably broke through the ice as soon as we kidnapped her. To show her that we'd kill for her? That just might be the one thing she won't be able to forgive."
What wasn't said, was that it wasn't just the killing part. It was that they were specifically aiming to kill the woman who had given birth to Clarke.
Abby was no mother, even if she had given birth, but Clarke still yearned for a mother.
"That's alright, Jessica," Wanda said, already aware of what people wanted to say, but didn't, "You, Hela, Pepper, Sylvie, Simone, Melina, Elektra and I are all here. We'll give her all the maternal love she wants."
Clint barked out a laugh as Jessica snorted and Laura sighed.
They knew that it was going to be a lot more complicated than that.
They knew Clarke had mommy issues and the moment they got her to call one of the eight aforementioned women, she would melt, but they would also be opening a whole ocean sized can of issues.
Yes, Clarke would most likely tremble in their arms in emotion, rather than struggle, the very second she called Jessica, Wanda, Simone, Sylvie, Melina, Hela, Pepper or Elektra, "mommy," but it didn't change that they most likely would be sticking their fingers into an open would.
Clarke had so many mommy issues, that it was why, even if she avoided sleeping with any of the people at the club, none of Clarke's mates believed for a second that Clarke didn't sleep with the older women there, for any other reason than fear.
Clarke, as a general rule, never had slept with any of the people that had offered her money to sleep with them.
But there was a difference for Clarke's reasons for not sleeping with them, when it came to the men as opposed to when it came to the women.
The men, especially the older men who tried to pay with her to sleep with them, Clarke just pitied.
But the older women? Clarke feared them. She could pretend all she wanted, but Clarke's mates knew. Clarke didn't sleep with the older women who tried to get her to sleep with them, out of fear.
Because as soon as she got involved with a maternal enough woman, Clarke would be in vulnerable pieces.
It was why, the rest of Clarke's mates were sure, Elektra hadn't tried to get Clarke to call her, "mommy," even though, Elektra definitely wanted that.
They knew that they'd be opening up a lot of issues with Clarke, if they did that. So, if any of the eight women that Wanda mentioned, including herself, tried to get Clarke to call them by that title, they would have to tread carefully, beforehand.
"We'll see what we can do," Simone said, "In the meantime? Clarke's going to need time to recover. And Abby's going to wake up. So, we should toss her in one of the rooms, and keep her waiting, till Clarke is ready."
The others nodded in agreement, and they dragged Abby to one of the backrooms.
They had constructed Clarke's room specifically so that it was vast, and had access to other rooms, had furnished the rooms specifically to make them more homelike. They had designed everything, so that not only could Clarke not hurt one of them, but not hurt herself either. Everything in that room was made to be of comfort to Clarke.
The other backrooms? Were just regular rooms, without furniture of any sort, there weren't even carpets laid down on the floors.
Which meant, as uncomfortable as the rooms were, they were perfect for one such as Abby Griffin.
They carried Abby to a backroom, switched on the lights, and threw the unconscious Abby inside, watching in satisfaction, as she slapped down against the hard, wooden floor.
While most of them stayed by the doorway of the room, some of the others went to the fridge in the main control room, opened it, reached inside and pulled out a securely closed canteen full of water, and grabbed a bag of old bread, brought both items to the backroom and tossed them inside next to Abby, and they stepped out, and the door was closed and locked.
There were no cameras and speakers inside that room. They had never used that particular room for anything except storage. They would have to fix that.
They knew that Abby would be unconscious for at least another hour. Good. That would give them enough time to work.
They grabbed the photos they had taken of Clarke, while watching her and stalking her, grabbed some small cameras and grabbed the speakers.
They opened up the room where they were keeping the unconscious Abby, went inside and began connecting speakers and cameras all over the backroom, so they could keep an eye on Abby and mock her for her situation.
They then plastered all the pictures of Clarke, across the door of the backroom, so that Abby would be forced to see the pictures of the daughter she left behind.
Now, there was a possibility that Abby wouldn't recognize Clarke, since all these pictures were recent and Abby had abandoned Clarke when Clarke had been very young. Still, Clarke's mates would be happy to tell Abby who the woman in the pictures was.
After Clarke's mates were done, they stepped out of the room, closed the door and locked it and went back to the control room.
They peered into the video feed, fighting the need to watch Clarke writhe and arch off of the bed in pleasure.
They kept their eyes on the unconscious Abby. The provided her with food and water, because they wanted her alive and well for what they were going to do, after Clarke had her time to recover.
They wanted Abby very much alert when they killed her in front of Clarke.
They wanted her to know what damage they had done to that precious young woman, who Abby was supposed to treat as her darling daughter, but had never done so.
They looked back finally, to the video feed of Clarke being assaulted.
They all knew that this was an assault. Or rather, multiple assaults. They knew that what they were doing, was not right.
They would do everything in their power to make Clarke happy.
But they knew that this was unforgivable.
In the room where Clarke was being kept, Clarke could feel her…fuck, what was this, her thousandth orgasm, or something? In any case, she could feel it beginning to rush forward, as Frank gently-bizarrely gently, kept thrusting himself into her. He was making sure to go slowly with her, but still pounded into her enough that she gasped and clenched her eyes shut, feeling the pleasure hit her hard again.
She cried out and squeezed around Frank as he gasped against her neck, spilling himself into her, making her whimper.
She could feel her exhaustion hitting her, and collapsed against the bed, her vision getting blurry, her eyes closing.
Soon, she was unconscious.
Frank pulled out of her slowly, leaning his head down to kiss her neck, then moving off of the bed.
Carol reached under Clarke and pulled the dildo out of Clarke's asshole, hearing Clarke gasp in her sleep at the feeling. Carol carried the dildo over to the bag, leaned down and with her free hand, switched the toy off. She then stood up and looked down at Clarke with the others.
The four men and two women looked down at Clarke lovingly.
Each of them had had their way with her, multiple times.
They knew that what they had done was beyond the pale of horrid, but they also knew that Clarke would never really, of her own free will, have taken what she really wanted.
What she wanted, was to be overstimulated, worshipped, dominated. And no, that wasn't them projecting what they wanted onto her and deciding for her that that was what she wanted.
They knew that this was fact, that this was what she wanted.
They had followed her for a long time, and had listened in to some of the things that she had said to her prospective partners.
But none of those partners had had the skill or strength to give her what she needed.
They always were too cowardly to do it or too inexperienced.
Nonetheless? Even knowing that, they knew what they had just done, was unforgivable.
Even if they worked every day from now on to make up for it, they knew they would never be able to do that.
All the selfless deeds in the world for Clarke, wouldn't make her "un-sexually assaulted."
But they would still do everything and anything for her.
Because what else would someone who loved another endlessly do?
Bruce went to the kitchen, grabbed one of the plastic cups and filled it with water, and grabbed some chocolate from the cabinet and brought both of these over to the bed, placing them down on the small table next to the bed.
He nodded to Frank as he said, "Can you get another cup of water?"
Frank nodded back to him, went and grabbed another plastic cup, filled it with water, brought it to the bed and handed it to Bruce.
Bruce thanked Frank and sat down alongside the edge of the bed, left hand reaching under Clarke's head, lifting her up and gently placing the tip of the cup's rim against Clarke's mouth and tilted the cup so that the water would spill into Clarke's mouth.
Clarke unconsciously made a mumbling sound as the cool water most likely soothed her sore throat.
When the cup was almost empty, Bruce put it down onto the table, next to the other cup and the chocolate.
He then lowered Clarke back down to the bed softly.
"We should give her some time alone," Luke said, as he, Elektra, Sam and Frank started redressing, "If she wakes up and we're the first things she sees, it might affect her worse."
Bruce nodded.
As much as they wished they could be of comfort to her right now, her seeing the faces of her six rapists-right after what they had done?
It would be more than unforgivable. They would need to give her time to recover, in more than the physical way.
They all got their clothes back on and Frank reached down and gently pulled one of the thin blankets over Clarke, placing the edge of it over Clarke's left as she slept on her side.
Frank got closer to Clarke and leaned down, kissing Clarke's lips tenderly, as the blonde slept.
As Frank pulled away, Carol stepped over and leaned down and kissed Clarke on her lips too, then pulled away. Sam came over then and leaned down and kissed Clarke on the lips, and after him, Elektra kissed Clarke on the mouth. Then Luke did. Then Bruce did. After that, they all stepped away.
They had been wanting to kiss her on the lips for a while now, but hadn't been able to.
The biological law that was in every person in the world, which was, "no person can harm their soulmate," actually had loopholes.
Sure, biologically speaking, no person could hurt their soulmate otherwise. If they tried to, their body would lock up, unable to do it.
But there were a few loopholes.
One of those loopholes?
A person could hurt their soulmate, if it was in self-defense.
Which meant if they had tried to kiss her or put anything whatsoever in her mouth, she easily could have bitten said something right off.
You'd think if there was that biological rule, that no person could hurt their soulmate, then the loophole of one being able to defend themselves, would be a big contradiction, right?
Because how could someone need to protect themselves from their own soulmate.
Well, the exceptions were situations like this. Where a person or people didn't hurt their soulmate at all. At least, not in the conventional way. In the case of Clarke's mates, who kept her captive and forced themselves on her, without so much as giving her a bruise or a scratch, Clarke still could have physically hurt them.
Because even if they hadn't so much have bruised or scratched Clarke, that didn't change that what they had done, had been an assault.
That was why they hadn't kissed her mouth while she was conscious, as much as they had wanted to.
The six of them then grabbed the bag of toys, and left the room, closing the door and locking it.
They hoped Clarke could forgive them. For all of this.
But they would never ask her to. Because asking forgiveness, when you did something so horrifically wrong to someone? Was in itself, horrific.
Someone who had hurt another person to the extent that they had hurt Clarke, did not get the right to ask that person they hurt, for forgiveness. To put such a demand on another person, let alone someone that had been hurt by another person's actions? That was unspeakable.
It was one of the reasons why the group that consisted of Clarke's mates, never understood how people threw out words like "forgiveness" so easily.
Forgiveness was just something that was expected of other people, so as not to "muddy the waters."
The truth was, forgiveness was just used so that other people didn't have to take responsibility for their actions.
They would take responsibility for this.
Did it make up for what they had done, what they were still going to do? No. Anything they did to take responsibility, would not make up for it, ever. But they would still take responsibility.
Rejoining the others in the control room, Bruce, Elektra, Frank and Luke, looked at their colleagues, allies and friends, and saw them look at the screens, as Sam put the bag of toys away, and Carol placed the dildo into a cleaning liquid near the sinks, then proceeding to wash her hands.
"I presume you saw and heard all that?" Elektra said dryly.
"Of course, we did," Pepper said, leaning against the side of the monitors, "She's going to be…upset when she wakes up."
The unspoken words were, "not that any of us or anyone can blame her."
And "upset," was a huge understatement and they all knew it.
After what they had done? Of course, she would be.
"While you were…busy with Clarke," Danny said, "Wanda, Pietro, Thor, Rhody, Sylvie and I, went to go get someone."
"Abby?" Frank asked, his voice harsh when he asked that question, his eyes narrowed and hard.
"Yep," Jessica said, as she looked at Danny, Wanda, Pietro, Sylvie, Thor and Rhody, "The shithead is in one of the backrooms. Right across from the kitchen."
"She's unconscious, though," Maria said, "So, we can't beat her up yet."
Bruce and Sam nodded. Frank quietly seethed, knowing that Abby was here. Luke stayed quiet, but like Frank, was angry that Abby was here. Elektra snickered, imagining all the ways they could torture Abby for what she had done to Clarke, and how much she hoped Clarke would enjoy watching Abby suffer. Carol looked at the video feed, watching Clarke sleep in her room. She hoped Clarke wouldn't be too angry about them having her mother here and torturing Abby.
Still, even if Clarke ended up furious at them for it, they'd do it anyway, after what Abby had done to Clarke.
"It will be another hour before she wakes up," Steve said, "So, we should wait a while."
The others nodded and grumbled their agreement.
They waited before two whole years. They could wait now.
Yes, they had followed Clarke for a near year and a half, but they had found out where she was, two years ago.
They had hesitated in tracking her and following her every move for a long time, because they had been unsure about the morality behind such actions. Or lack of morality.
Yes, they had done many heinous things over the years to gain power and control, but there were things that even they were repulsed at the thought of doing.
However, when at last, they began following her, just to make sure she was safe, it wrenched something violently out of them.
Clarke was starving herself at times, was taking loads of drugs that were doing a number on her body and mind, was isolating herself, was treating herself all around, unhealthily.
And what was more, she was completely sexually unfulfilled.
They knew that they couldn't leave her like that.
Even as they planned, they had contemplated the extremely sordid morality of it. Even as they planned, they knew that what they had planned to do, wasn't right, even if they kept saying that they were doing it for Clarke.
And they were doing it for Clarke. But it didn't change that none of this was right.
So, here they were, having just sexually assaulted Clarke, multiple times, with the young woman's mother, locked up in another room, and they were getting ready to beat the shit out of Abby, just as a start to make her pay for what she had done to Clarke.
An hour passed by.
And several of them smirked and chuckled, when they heard a voice from the closed door behind them, and heard fists banging against the metal of the door.
They heard Abby's muffled cries, "Hello?! Hello?! Let me out! Where am I?!"
Grinning, Sylvie said, "The bitch is awake."
They slowly turned to look at the video feed connected to the cameras in the room where Abby was.
Abby indeed, was awake. And was beating her fists against the door of the room where she was held.
Smirking, Natasha stepped forward and pressed her finger against the speaker button, and spoke calmly to Abby, "You can beat your fists against that door, all you'd like, Abby. You will not get out. But go ahead and look at the pictures all over the door. Notice anything familiar about the young women in those photos?"
Abby stepped back, startled by the voice that seemingly came from out of nowhere, and her expression was understandably, one of surprise. She then started looking at the photographs plastered all over the door to her room.
She shook her head. "I don't…," she said, her confusion more apparent.
This caused each of Clarke's mates to have a negative reaction in some way. Either to growl, huff, sigh or glare at the screen as they watched Abby.
Because Abby's genuine confusion meant one thing.
It meant that she definitely didn't recognize Clarke in those pictures, which ultimately meant that Abby had never even tried to track Clarke down, years after abandoning the girl.
Abby had abandoned Clarke, and had never looked back.
Teeth clenched, her eyes glaring holes into the monitor where Abby was shown, Wanda lunged forward and pressed her finger against the button and spat, "You know who that is in the pictures, Abby?! That's your daughter. That's Clarke Griffin. Remember? The little girl you left behind?!"
Abby finally reacted. She gasped, her eyes wide and full of recognition.
"Oh, my god," she whispered.
"Yes, recognize her now?" Pietro sneered, as his twin sister, kept the button down to communicate with Abby, "You left her. And she grew up. And you never even checked on her."
Abby shook her head. "That's what this is about?" She asked, startled, "I left her, okay, I know I did. But she was better off without me as her mother-"
"Don't try to dress this up as something you were doing for Clarke," Jessica spat, "You did it for money. You did it to serve your own selfish ass. You never did a thing for Clarke, in her entire life, except give birth to her. And that was it."
"And let's be honest here," Tony sneered, "You only did that so you could get your hands on Jake Griffin's money."
Pepper raised her eyebrows at Tony and Tony glanced at her and quieted. Admittedly, a lot of what he had just said, had been him venting over past relationships, before Pepper, ending with him breaking up with someone who only dated him for his wealth. But Pepper had pointed out to him, chuckling, "You know, if you were less willing to throw money around and buy really expensive gifts, and really expensive cars, you might have less women chasing after you, only for money."
"That's not true," Abby protested from her room, "I loved Jake. I loved Clarke."
Several snarls and growls left the people in the group, enraged by Abby's audacity to say such a thing.
She didn't love Clarke. She had never loved Clarke.
"You never loved Clarke in your entire life," Elektra sneered, "You probably never loved Jake, either. But you certainly never loved Clarke."
"No, I-" Abby began, but was interrupted by Hela.
"Enough of this!" Hela snarled, glaring at Abby, even if she knew that Abby couldn't see her glaring, "Enough with your excuses. The fact is, you abandoned Clarke. And you never came back for her. She grew up in an orphanage, alone. Thinking no one would ever want or love her. That was because of you. Because you threw her away. Now, we are just going to give you what you deserve."
"What are you going to do?" Abby asked, horror entering her face, as she finally understood the situation she was in.
"Oh, you'll find out, soon enough," Loki chuckled, smirking, "But first? When she wakes up, I think there's someone you should meet, after years and years of having left her."
They watched Abby's eyebrows narrow in confusion for just a moment, then watched as those same eyes widened.
"She's…here?" Abby asked, voice almost a whisper, but the cameras were designed to pick up quiet words.
So, they heard her.
"Yes, she is," Sam said, "And it's time for her to face her demons. And she'll get to watch that same demon die."
Abby gasped, backing away from the door, shaking.
She clearly understood now why she had been brought here.
"No-I," Abby began, taking a breath and her words came out in a slight desperate tone, "Please, who are you?"
"Us?" Clint snorted, "We're people who unlike you, actually love Clarke."
Wanda pulled her hand off of the button, cutting off the connection, so, Abby was left, yelling and they only heard what she said through the door, and that sound was muffled.
Laura glanced at the other screen, where Clarke was sleeping-or had been sleeping, till now.
The large group watched, as Clarke sniffled awake, gasping, looking around the room, tense up, expecting an attack of some sort.
All of them, including all of Clarke's mates who hadn't sexually assaulted her, winced.
It was their fault that Clarke was this uneasy right now.
They all had wanted to leave a note next to Clarke's bed, but then, they suspected leaving a note, like asking Clarke to eat something, would only make her decide to not eat at all. Clarke had a tendency, as they knew, to be very, very stubborn.
Clarke slipped her legs out of bed and wrapped the blanket around herself, reaching out and grabbing the full cup of water by her bed, taking a drink of it.
She put the cup down, and turned to glare at the cameras above her.
She said nothing, but Carol, Luke, Bruce, Frank, Sam and Elektra felt the glare, as if she was projecting it out at them like a punch to the face.
The six of them and Clarke's other mates, knew that they deserved nothing, but to take what she gave them.
They didn't doubt that them showing that they had taken Abby Griffin captive, probably wouldn't help the situation, but they hoped that it might drive the point home the lengths of what they were willing to do for her.
"Should we go and get her and show her we have Abby?" Danny asked.
"Not yet," Natasha advised, watching Clarke, "Let her drink more water, eat the chocolate and rest for at least an hour. Then we'll bring her to Abby. Show her that we have Abby and then start showing Clarke that we'd torture Abby for her."
Elektra looked at the others, snickering, "Can we have some fun beating Abby up before then?"
She asked, because she knew that they all felt the desire to do it.
But Hela, Natasha, Sam, Jessica, Clint, Laura, Pepper, Brunnhilde refused.
"Not a good idea yet," Sylvie said, saying what her sister and the others were thinking, "Don't want to damage her before Clarke sees her. Remember, this performance is all for Clarke."
Elektra huffed, but nodded. She and Yelena shared a frustrated look.
They knew that this was for Clarke and they'd never refuse that.
However, it didn't change that they really, really wanted to beat Abby till she bled, for what she had done to Clarke.
"Don't worry, Elektra," Bruce assured the dark-haired assassin, "We'll all get to give Abby what she deserves, soon enough."
Elektra nodded to him, as they turned back to look at the screen, watching Clarke.
After drinking more water, eating all of the chocolate that had been put on the table next to her bed, going to the bathroom and washing her hands, going to the kitchen and getting some more food and eating it, all wrapped up in the blanket, by the way, which was adorable, almost two hours had passed by, and that was when Clarke's mates decided it was time for them to show her what they had gotten for her.
"Clarke," Wanda said, after pressing the button on the panel to communicate with her mate, "Can you please put your clothes on? We want to bring you out of the room, temporarily. There's something we need to show you. It's not sexual, we promise."
Clarke snorted, glaring again at the cameras, "I'm not sure I trust a promise from any of you, considering six of you just spent hours forcefully shoving your fingers, cocks and tongues into me."
Several of the group flinched at Clarke's uncouth words.
Again, they knew they deserved far worse than that.
"You have every right not to trust anything we say," Wanda agreed, recovering from wincing, "But there's still something we'd like to show you. Something important. Would you like to see her?"
Clarke's eyebrows narrowed. "'Her?'" She echoed, "Who's 'her?'"
"Abby Griffin," Wanda said, "The woman who abandoned you."
Author's note
In the next chapter I'll highlight Clarke's feelings about what happened and how it's affecting her.
