Loan pt 5 "You stupid fuckin' bastards! Do you have any fucking idea what you've done?"
Trey was pacing furiously, heavy-eyed with exhaustion and dismay. He'd arrived back in England unexpectedly nine days after leaving, intending to surprise his partner. Who, the staff at the Basil told him, hadn't been back to the hotel for five days. He rushed to Agency HQ at three in the morning to demand an explanation, only to find the place in a state of emergency.
Greg told him what had happened, what Alexei was doing... And that they'd lost track of him two hours ago.
Now Lenore reached for the American, trying to calm him down: he slapped her hands away.
"Did any of you bother to find out about 'lexi's past?"
"Of course we did! We don't risk talents without a review of their abilities and their full co-operation."
"Did any of you peep?"
"Peep?"
"Read his mind. Scan him. Whatever it is you freaks do."
Greg frowned.
"No. We don't invade another's privacy unless we believe there is very good cause."
Trey slumped down onto the edge of the couch, head in his hands.
"So you don't know..."
Devon knelt down in front of the American, hands on his thighs.
"Know what? C'mon, Trey. What do we need to know?"
There were tears in the grey-green eyes.
"'lexi's from Khimki, just outside Moscow. When he was thirteen, his father fucked up big time, got in deep with the Russian Mafia, ended up owing them a fortune. They took Alexei as payment." He eyed the horrified faces around him bleakly. "Ever heard of Radinski?"
A chorus of nods answered him: there were few people in any law-enforcement agency who hadn't heard of the crime lord, who'd died in mysterious circumstances nine years ago. He bit his lips and closed his eyes, head falling forwards.
"That sadistic bastard was in Butyrka jail. His friends on the outside arranged to have 'lexi smuggled in..." Trey swallowed, face pale. "He... spent the next six months as their... bitch... Radinski and his buddies. Seven of them. All as bad as each other."
Greg folded in on himself as Trey's grief flooded his mind... images of the frightened thirteen year old, so pretty, so innocent, dragged by his hair into Radinski's cell, shoved onto a narrow hard bed and unceremoniously and viciously raped - over and over again as the eight of them took turns... He moaned, arms wrapped around his chest. Trey smiled bitterly.
"He's tough, my 'lexi. He survived. Oh, sure, he still has nightmares, but they're getting fewer. Well, they were before we came here. And it only took me a year to gain his trust..." He swiped angrily at his tears. "Bad enough they... used... hurt his body... but... his talent was only just appearing... he felt... all of them... knew them..." He buried his face in his hands, biting back sobs. Devon knelt up and wrapped an arm around his shoulders."
"We didn't know, Trey. He never said. He volunteered to do this."
Trey shrugged the arm away angrily.
"Course he fuckin' did! Anything to make sure it didn't happen to anyone else! That's what's kept him going all this time. But... if they... Oh GOD!" A wail of sheer anguish. "If they try to... he can't control his talent if his body's threatened. It'll kill him."
There was a brief, horrified silence, then the room erupted into purposeful activity...... cold... I didn't know where I was, but it was so cold... shivering, I curled up as tightly as I could... only very vaguely becoming aware of the cold, rough, hard damp surface I lay on...
My clothes were gone.
I forced down a sudden brief surge of panic.
Panic wouldn't help me extricate myself from the situation. I pictured a warm campfire, sawfeltsmeltheard it, forced myself to breathe evenly...
A boot landed heavily on my ribs, driving the breath from my body and the comforting image from my mind. Only then did I feel the pain of the blow as fire blazed through my chest.
"Get up, cunt."
... wrong sex, I don't have one... Yes. They used to call it trenches humour, I think. Where if you didn't find something to smile about, you'd give up and die crying... I cried out as the boot impacted again, stopping short of serious injury, then large hands gripped my wrists and dragged me to my feet. The light suddenly brightened, harshly, and I flinched and closed my eyes. Moments later a bruising slap to my face snapped my head back.
"Open your fuckin' eyes, cunt."
The order was followed by a second slap, and I forced my eyelids apart.
Some sort of cage, with bars - a prison cell?
Yes, a prison cell. I could feel panic building, low down in my chest. Why should the idea of a prison cell frighten me so? I shivered, and my captors laughed.
"This is gonna be fun..."
They were interrupted by a voice - a woman, the tone that of someone who took it for granted that she would be obeyed without question.
"You are not to damage his face."
The guard on the right - lean, pale, long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail - chuckled coarsely.
"No ma'am, we won't do that. I guess you want his cock left intact too. And his balls?"
"Of course."
"What about the rest?"
"No permanent damage. But he should be... broken in. My brother and I both like our pets submissive." She beckoned. "Bring him closer. Let me take a look at him."
I tried to pull back, but they were stronger. They dragged me to the bars, where the woman extended a hand into the cell. Ponytail pulled me back a fraction.
"Wouldn't do that, ma'am. He fought like buggery when we caught him, don't want you hurt."
She pulled the hand back, but only half way, then reached downwards instead, towards my groin.
"Hold him still..."
I was not sure which was worse, the pain, or the humiliation, the scarlet-coloured talon-like nails scoring my skin, leaving bleeding trails behind them, or not being able to pull away from such a loathesomely intimate touch. I closed my eyes and willed my self elsewhere, only to be snapped back to reality as she tightened her grip and squeezed viciously.
I could not help the tears of pain, nor the cry I tried to bite back. I could think of nothing but the white agony of it, dimly aware that the guards were having difficulty holding me still... I don't know how long she held me thus, but when she finally let go I slumped between my captors, unable to stand, unable to focus on anything but the pain. A thin, cold hand, those red claws sharp on my skin, gripped my chin, forcing my face up to hers. Such cold grey eyes...
"Pretty. Very pretty. Don't spoil him."
"We'll be careful, ma'am."
"Good... Oh, and I want him branded before his makeover."
... what...?
The other guard laughed.
"Sure! Where d'ya want it?"
"Get him up."
All I wished to do was curl up until the pain went away, but they wrenched me upright and held me while the woman ran her cold gaze over my body. Finally she reached forwards and scratched at the skin just above my hip.
"Here I think." She reached into an inner pocket of the jacket she wore, pulling out what looked like a business card and handing it over. "This design."
The short-haired guard took the card and frowned.
"Hm. Yeah, can be done ma'am."
"Good. I will leave him to you while I discuss the makeover with your techs."
Ponytail leered, rough calloused hand squeezing my buttock painfully.
"We'll take good care of him for you, ma'am..."
As she walked away, he yanked my hands behind my back and secured them - with handcuffs, I thought, hearing the click as they closed. He shoved me forwards, and I stumbled, dropping to one knee: he grabbed my hair and pulled my face towards his.
"Now, we're gonna go get somethin' to eat. When we come back, we'll tell you what's goin' to happen to you. Then we're gonna... break you in, like the nice lady said. Know what that means, boy?"
"... yes..."
A slap, light but stinging, to my face.
"I can't hear you."
I swallowed and tried again.
"It means... you are going to... use me."
He laughed.
"Use you? Heh. Cunt, we're gonna fuck you 'til you can't walk, can't swallow, and never wanna see another dick as long as you live." He held up a small vial, of some kind of green liquid, with a flourish. "This here'll make sure of that. S'an aphrodisiac. Speeds up cum production too, so we won’t run out no matter how many times we come." He leaned down, patting my cheek gently. "You jus' think about that while we get some lunch..."I didn't want to think about anything. Thinking hurt. But I could not stop. It was... it was as though I was being made to relive my memories... as though I were standing outside my life looking in...
Where was I? Why was I here? I remembered making my way home after another fruitless day searching for a job, tired, hungry... there had been a young man... he'd stopped me to ask me something, the time I think... then they had jumped me, ponytail and his friend.
What did they want of me? I had no money, no family, no friends, nothing of any value... My old workmates called me Alex and made fun of my accent, and wouldn't give a damn that I was missing. No one would...
There was something else, I knew, something just out of reach... shining eyes, grey-green... But the more I reached for the memory the faster it receded, leaving me frustrated - and frightened...
What was this 'makeover' the woman had mentioned?
How could I escape?
I struggled to my feet, trying to ignore the pains shooting through my body. I could remember fighting... I had fought being captured... Had I hurt them? I hoped so...
There was no way out of this cell, only the barred gate the guards used. And metal secured my hands; I had no hope of removing the bonds.
They would be back soon. I would have to fight again. I knew how to fight, how to make the best use of what little I had.
Because the thought of what they planned to do... I trembled. It made me feel sick and weak.
And they returned, and I struggled and kicked and bit and fought, until ponytail hit the back of my head with something hard and my world disappeared.When I awoke I was lying on my back, my arms above my head and my legs widely spread. Tied very securely so I could hardly move. There was a hard smooth lump under my lower back, raising my hips into the air; the strain on my back and legs was acute, but I could not move to ease it...
"Back with us, cunt?"
I twisted to look at ponytail, who stood behind and little to the side of the... I could not call it a bed, it was too uncomfortable for that. Examination table, perhaps - a strange one, with a V-shaped space between the surfaces to which my legs were fastened. He glowered at me, his face bruised and swollen. A small twinge of grim pleasure made me smile - I had at least left my mark, if only temporarily. He snarled and raised his hand: the other stopped him with a harsh command not to hurt my face. He was silent for a moment, then smirked and moved from my line of sight...
Twisting my head apprehensively, I could see the other one, speaking quietly with a man in a white coat, and I strained myself to hear, my eyes narrowing - to snap wide as something invaded my body, between my legs, shoved brutally up into me, leaving me breathless. As my head jerked to stare helplessly down at ponytail, he grinned and cupped a hand over my groin, the unwelcome touch making me nauseous.
"There now. We'll start with that, to warm you up..." He was... fondling me, his fingers on my penis, stroking, making a tunnel of his hands as I hardened... I do not want this! I do not want him to touch me! But my body does not listen. In pain and discomfort as I am, his touch, gentle, sensual... I can feel myself tighten, growing closer to orgasm...
And then he fastens something around my genitals, something tight, something that hurts.
I grit my teeth to stop myself from making any sound, and he grins, and does something to the thing in my body, and I cannot stop myself from screaming as pain rips through me...
I am shaking when it stops. I do not know how long it lasted, but my throat is raw, and I feel as though I have been raped by fire... Ponytail strokes my face.
"Still with us, cunt? Good. That was just for starters..."
The man in the white coat approaches, eyeing my shaking body, then gestures curtly to the others.
"Hold him still."
They stand to each side of me, hands heavy and carelessly rough on my thighs and hips, as white coat snaps on white latex gloves and opens a package containing a large, thick golden hoop. And then there are more unwelcome touches, on my scrotum, then a shrieking pain as he cuts me and manoeuvres the hoop through my flesh, between my testes, twisting and locking the two ends together with a large metal sphere then forcing the join back through my skin to sit inside... I can feel it, a big cold ball pressing into the sides of the small organs where it sits separating them inside my sac... it hurts...
Dimly I hear ponytail speaking.
"Don't they usually do that during the makeover?"
White coat nodded.
"Ms Darling wanted it done earlier, so he could get used to being leashed."
Ponytail leered.
"So we get to play too?"
"Yes. But don't damage him too much. She's paying an awful lot of money for this one."
"Oh, we'll be careful. Has she asked for anything special?"
"Not really. She's not very imaginative. The usual mods, plus she wants him to be unable to come until she or her brother give the order. She wants the tongue lengthened too. Likes being licked up inside, apparently." He sighed irritably. "Would have been easier if he wasn't purely homosexual - it's the very devil adjusting the mods correctly so they can function with women."
The other guard snorted.
"So pretty boy here is queer?"
"Completely."
"Ah well, I'm sure we can still do our job."
White coat had nodded, pulling some sort of metallic glove onto his hand and reaching for... something, long and thin and metal, with a curled piece of flat metal at the end. He pressed a switch and the decorated end started to glow.
"Hold him down."
This time they pressed down on me with all their weight - and just before I passed out from the pain as the brand sank into my flesh I dimly realised why, as even their strength could not stop me from trying to tear myself free.I did not want to wake. I did not want to feel any more pain. But the thing in my rectum was stretching me painfully, and my back and legs were cramping agonisingly, and my entire groin throbbed viciously, and my hip... my hip felt raw.
And I was shaking. Wondering at my ability to watch myself, as though I were distanced from my body, not a part of it. It made the pain easier to bear - but... was I in shock? I could not tell. And I felt as though I had become unreal, that this was not happening, that it was some sort of particularly realistic dream.
That could not be a good sign.
I screamed as ponytail twisted the ring through my scrotum. That pain was perfectly real. He grinned down at me.
"Welcome back, cunt. Hope you enjoyed yer nap - last one you'll get for a while."
The other guard seated himself on the edge of the 'bed' and folded his arms.
"OK. This is where I tell you what's going to happen to you, so listen carefully. Ms Darling and her brother want a pet, and you're it. In about twelve hours the biotechs are gonna take you next door and give you a makeover. Ms Darling wants a black panther, so they're gonna take your thumbs, give you cat claws on your hands and feet, give you a tail, and they'll reroute your ears too, so they're on the top of your head. Your tongue's gonna get longer and be barbed like a cat, and you'll get cat's teeth. They'll give you fur, and make your eyes a golden colour, and Ms Darling wants your cock enlarged and given soft barbs. Oh, and they'll take away your voice, and fit you with this neat little device that lets you growl and purr." He grinned. "Best of all are the behavioural modifications. You'll obey their every command. You'll fuck her whenever she wants it, and her brother'll fuck you, and they'll probably share you with their friends. And she's asked that you not be allowed to enjoy it, even though you can't help but obey..."
I couldn't breathe. This... this could not be happening to me. Ponytail leered and tugged the ring again, and I screamed.
"Yeah, enjoy your voice while you still got one." Through the grey haze floating before my eyes and the agony filling my body I was dimly aware of him reaching downwards - screaming again as he wrenched the thing out of my body and dropped it on the floor.
He replaced it with his own penis, shoving in viciously...Trey moaned, dropping to his knees: Devon wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
"What it is?"
"'lexi..." Unconsciously covering his groin with his hands, the American shivered, head bowed. "Hurting..."
Greg leapt from his place at Lenore's monitor, pulling Trey upright and into his arms.
*You can *feel* him? What's happening?*
Tears - of anguish and fury - streamed down Trey's face.
*They're... oh fuck...*
Greg hugged the American, one hand to the back of his head, trying to *follow* the odd link Trey had to his partner - biting his lip at what he found. The Russian was still conscious, and still - just barely - in control of himself. But under the relentless violation - who could say? They'd done the best they could to shield him, in case the worst should happen, but it might not be enough...
"He's not that far away. Why isn't the damn tracer working!?"
Lenore was snarling very quietly under her breath.
"Think they've got jammers operating..."
"Oh fuck!" Devon paled. "But... we gotta find him! Greg, please! You're the best, you must be able to track him!"
Greg grimaced.
*I'm doing everything I can. I'm good - but they have better.*
The young TK gritted his teeth.
*Alexei...*
*I know, Devon. I know. Just... look after Trey, will you? Let me see if I can get a fix.*... no more... please, no more...
I knew I was crying, could feel the tears. But I couldn’t understand why I was still hurting. Surely by now, after all they had done, my body should be numb. I could hardly feel my legs, and the pain in my back had receded to a dull, all-encompassing ache. But every time one of them slid into me it hurt afresh, as though it were the first time. And the voices, the harsh, relentless voices, telling me with every thrust that I was worthless, nothing, just a thing to be used, to be fucked...
I had tried to hold on to my self, but it was so hard, so very hard. I had no-one, no-one would miss me, my disappearance would be nothing but a minor inconvenience to my landlady, but only until she replaced me..."... not true, love..." Devon leaned closer to try to hear what Trey was whispering. "... s'not true. I love you... need you... don't wanna live without you..."
Devon chewed his lip: the American looked ill.
"We'll get him back."
"How?" Trey snarled. "You've lost him."
Greg gasped, and Lenore stiffened in her seat, her voice hushed.
"... got him..."And it went on and on, until I believed they were right, I had no value save as a thing to be used... And something - broke...
And I could feel... the sadistic lust and satisfaction as ponytail came inside me yet again, his partner's lust for money, the cold uncaring indifference of the biotechs, the pain of the people they were working on, the desperation, the hopelessness, the despair... lust... agony... despair... and more and more feelings filling my mind, swamping me, burying me under an avalanche of emotion until I could not breathe, could not tell where I ended and the rest began...
Distantly, I felt the bindings give way, my fingers curved into claws reaching for the eyes of the two who tortured me. Blood, and screaming, and knives in my mind...
Then blissful nothingness...There was no time for subtlety: the Agents broke most of the Urban Traffic Code, and quite a few other laws as well, in their race to reach the clinic in time. Between them Devon and Ox ripped through the security doors - hidden behind false walls at the back of a large industrial meat freezer - and tore into the underground complex. A grim-faced, deadly Razor followed them, Greg beside her and an ashen, unsteady Trey between them, with Lenore and Stephan, guns at the ready, right behind them. Razor paused just long enough to *wrench* the complex's groundplans from the mind of the first security guard unlucky enough to meet them, then with the information gained directed the backup groups to the three 'emergency' exits in adjoining properties.
They found the cells first, and left the Agency flatscans to free and tend to the pets-to-be while they raced further into the clinic, posting guards at the entrances to each of the operating theatres they came to - thirty in all, and nearly all in use... Then Greg *shouted* an alarm.
*They're trying to delete the files!*
Razor's smile was as thin and as sharp as her nickname as she *focussed* tightly.
*We can't have that, can we...?*
A chorus of agonised screams came from one end of the nearby corridor, and Razor and Ox followed the noises to the main office. Greg looped an arm around Trey's waist to hold him upright: the American was close to fainting. He gestured weakly.
"... down there..."
Greg and Devon kicked down the door - and halted, stunned. Trey struggled out of the 'path's grip and stumbled into the room, dropping to his knees in the blood pooled on the floor.
"... what the fuck...?" Devon swallowed, trying not to gag, then moved to stand behind Trey. The American was trying to pull his partner into his arms: Alexei, naked, covered with blood and jerking and twitching spasmodically, wasn't making it easy. Greg surveyed the room, noting the blinded, dying trackers, the chunks of their flesh that lay oozing on the floor, then eyed the young TK, his glance flicking to the shuddering figure Trey was somehow managing to hold.
*This must be what happens when Alexei loses control...*
Trey glared at him over Alexei's head.
"Don't be fucking stupid. If he did this every time he lost control, you think they'd have let him live? No, this was something different." He gazed down at his partner, tears brimming. "He was fighting for his life - for his mind."
Greg crouched down and laid a hand on Trey's shoulder.
"We need to get him back to HQ. Away from this place. I'll *call* ahead, make sure we're ready for him. Here. Wrap him in this." He pulled off his coat, then frowned at Devon. "Do you want to come back with us?"
The TK shook his head.
"I'll be more use here. Nothing I can do to help him."
Greg nodded as Devon made for the door, then turned to help Trey with Alexei. As they managed to ease rigid arms into the coat and fasten the front haphazardly, the 'path frowned.
"Shall I carry him? You're exhausted."
Trey glared, though given how white and drawn he was it had less force than usual.
"I'll carry him."
Greg nodded.
"Very well. But please, say if you need help." He tenderly stroked a lock of fine black hair back from the unconscious Russian's cold forehead. "We are in his debt."Trey was pacing agitatedly, running his fingers through his wiry hair.
"How long're they gonna be?"
Greg sighed and *asked*.
"About another half an hour. They're setting his fingers now."
Alexei's injuries had been far less severe than they'd expected - most of the blood on him was from the two he'd killed. But he'd fractured a wrist and torn deep gashes in his arms and ankles in breaking out of the bonds, and all of his fingers were broken - from tearing his torturers to pieces, Holly thought, given the state of him. His other injuries had obviously been designed to cause as much pain as possible while not endangering his life, and although it would be a while before he'd be comfortable - in his state they didn't dare risk giving him anything that would speed his healing - he'd make a full recovery. Physically anyway.
Twenty-five minutes later Holly stuck her head out of the door and beckoned them both in. Trey nearly bowled the small woman over in his haste to get to his lover's bedside, skidding to a halt and biting his lip at the sight. Alexei was so pale... He swallowed and quietly sat down beside the bed, resting a hand lightly on a pallid shoulder, needing to touch but afraid to handle the Russian's thickly bandaged hands. Holly stood at the end of the bed, eyeing the American.
"Mr McNabb, there are a few things I need to ask you."
Trey glanced up, nodded, then turned his eyes back to his partner. Holly smiled sympathetically.
"As you can see, we've stopped the convulsions - no, not with drugs, I had one of our stronger empaths soothe him while we treated him - but his higher brain functions seem to be on hiatus. Has this happened before?"
Trey nodded, not taking his eyes from Alexei's face.
"We think it's a defence mechanism. When his shield fails, he gets... swamped by the feelings of everyone nearby - up to a half-mile away. After a little while his mind just - shuts down. To save his sanity, we think."
Greg nodded from his position at Alexei's other side.
"I've known that happen before."
Holly smiled at him, then turned back to the American.
"Do you know how long it's likely to last?"
Trey shook his head.
"I've only known it happen once before, and then it lasted... five days, I think it was, though it fucking felt like months." He half-grinned humourlessly. "It's not something we really try to have happen much."
Holly chuckled wryly.
"I can understand that... Were the circumstances similar?"
"No, not in the least."
She nodded.
"So we can't predict how long this is likely to last. Very well. We'll make sure someone's with him at all times."
"Me. I'm staying with him."
Holly nodded.
"Of course. I'll have a bed brought in here for you. And there'll be someone here whenever you need to take a break."
She thought for a moment that Trey was going to object, but he obviously had second thoughts, and nodded reluctantly.
"I also want Mr Alexandreivich to submit to a deep *scan*."
Trey looked dubious. Holly smiled and gestured to the 'path.
"I'd like Greg to perform the scan. It's to ascertain the depth of the emotional and psychic damage the experience has caused, nothing more sinister than that."
"You'll have to ask 'lexi when he's awake. I can't agree to that for him."
"Of course." She hesitated, then added, "I gather it's not the first time he's been... abused..."
Trey glared at Greg.
"D'you tell fucking everyone?"
Holly shook her head.
"Come now, Mr McNabb. Remember where you are, and that Mr Alexandreivich isn't properly trained. We all had some inkling of his past, even without trying to *pry*."
Trey rubbed his eyes tiredly.
"I guess... OK... Yeah, when he was thirteen. Spent six months in a tiny cell in a Moscow jail with eight bastards who..." he closed his eyes, swallowing hard, "...raped him whenever they felt like it..."
Holly winced.
"I see..." She inclined her head, wondering for a moment if Alexei's preferences were caused by the experience or would have occurred anyway. It would be interesting to see if they could find out, if he didn't object... She mentally shook herself. "He's obviously dealt with it very well, at least enough to function normally."
Trey sighed.
"I guess. I sometimes wonder what he'd have been like if it hadn't happened. I mean, he's so fucking self-controlled. Takes a hell of a lot to get him to let loose. An' he has to be Mr Average, blend into the background, not draw attention to himself." He snorted. "Yeah, like that'll ever happen, with his looks!"
He fell silent for a moment, his eyes shadowed with grief as he stroked his lover's fine hair.
"He thinks I don't know how much he's hurting. I do - but it makes him feel better if I don't, so I don't tell him. I just make sure I'm always here, always in grabbing distance, in case he needs me."
Greg smiled sadly.
"You love him."
Trey gave the 'path a pitying look and didn't deign to reply.
"And he loves you."
"I know. He never says it, but I know anyway. I don't need to hear it."
There was a moment's thoughtful silence, then Greg sighed.
"I have to go, at least for a short while. We need a preliminary interrogation of everyone we've rounded up, then I must assemble the group who altered Alexei's memories so we can dissolve the false and resurrect the real ones, and as soon as possible: it will speed his recovery. Will you excuse me?"
Trey nodded, then looked up sharply.
"Hey, I never said thanks."
The 'path waved a hand dismissively.
"No need. It was our fault he was endangered in the first place."
"Well yeah - but he would have done it anyway. And without you guys we'd have got there too late..."
Greg sighed.
"I am sorry we couldn't tell you. Alexei was worried you'd let something slip."
Trey nodded unhappily.
"He's right - I would have... Doesn't make me feel any better, though."
Greg clasped his shoulder lightly.
"You are both braves, and we are proud of you." He smiled briefly. "I will return as soon as I can."Trey watched anxiously as Greg rested a one hand on Alexei's forehead, the other on his shoulder, eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration. On the other side Lana, the 'path who'd constructed the Russian's false memories, sat mirroring Greg's posture, her hand over his on Alexei's head: at the foot of the bed stood Razor, blue eyes fierce as she *boosted* the others' strength. Alexei was moaning, squirming under the sheet.
Holly took Trey's hands.
"They won't hurt him, I promise."
The American nodded, eyes fixed on his lover.
"I know. Can't help worryin' though."
"I don't blame you. It's horrible watching someone you love in distress, isn't it?"
"Happens too fuckin' often for my likin'. Pardon my French."
Holly chuckled quietly.
"Oh, don't worry about that. You should hear Devon in a strop. Enough to blister your eardrums."
Trey managed a pale smile, then flinched as Alexei cried out.
"Haven't they finished yet?"
"It's a delicate operation."
"Will he... remember anything?"
Holly chewed her lip, then nodded.
"All of it. He asked to remember all of it."
Trey moaned, eyes closing in anguish.
"... fucking idiot..."
"It's probably better if he does. He'll be able to deal with it more easily."
The American sighed in exasperation.
"He doesn't, though. He just fucking buries it."
"He should talk about it."
"I know that! You try telling him..."
Lana pulled back with a sigh, wearily opening her eyes and smiling at Trey.
"All done. He'll remember you properly now."
Trey looked almost comically dismayed.
"You mean you made him forget me?"
"We tried. We couldn't though, not completely. You mean too much to him." She beckoned him to the bed, ushering him into her vacated seat. "He'll probably be disorientated when he finally wakes up. You'll need to be very gentle with him."
Trey scowled.
"I'm always gentle with him!"
"And even after he's healed, he probably won't want sex for quite some time."
"I fuckin' know that! D'you think I'm completely stupid?"
"Of course not. But I don't think you're fully aware of what was done to him."
Trey took a breath as though to argue, then released it, his shoulders slumping.
"OK. You've told me. And I'll be good. Can I have some time alone with him now?"
Greg nodded and ushered the others out of the room, pausing beside the American and laying a hand on his shoulder.
"He needs the scan, Trey. Try to talk him into allowing it. Please. If you don't, one day all that buried pain and grief is going to surface. It'll happen at the worst possible time, and it could permanently damage him."
Trey's eyes closed, and he nodded.
"I'll do my damnedest. Been trying to get him to a shrink for years: I think he'd find this much less stressful. He hates talking about himself."
Greg smiled.
"Thank you. I will see you later."I fought to stay asleep. I did not want to wake up. If I woke up, I would have to remember what had happened. I did not want to remember. Perhaps I should have asked to have those memories taken away... But then I would be missing a part of my life, and I wanted that even less than I wanted the memories... If I lost them, I would no longer have full control...
My body was waking, making its pain known. And over and above the bruises and broken bones and the deep-seated moaning ache in my lower body, there was a stiffness that betokened past days of lying still.
Then I remembered what I had done, and felt nauseous. Trey heard me whimpering and leapt to my side from where he'd been gazing out of the window.
"Love? You're awake? How d'ya feel?"
Swallowing convulsively as he eased an arm behind my shoulders and helped me sit up, I tried to reach for him, the pain in my hands and the heavy bandages making it impossible.
"Sick."
He slid onto the bed, holding me very carefully against his body, one hand stroking my hair.
"I'll call a nurse..."
I shook my head.
"Not yet... Trey... I killed them... I... couldn't... stop..."
He kissed my hair.
"Nobody's gonna miss those bastards. And it was self-defence, love."
I could feel myself start shaking.
"But..."
"Shhhh... Talk later..."
"...I want to get out of here..."
"I'll see what I can do."The Agency doctors would not let me return to the hotel: they insisted on our staying at the headquarters so they could 'keep an eye' on me. Trey was not easy with the idea, but accepted the sense of it. We were loaned a small suite of rooms on the same floor as the infirmary, and Trey helped me dress in loose, soft sweat pants and a baggy sweatshirt, then supported me as I limped to our temporary residence later that afternoon.
It was comfortable, and it did not smell of chemicals as the infirmary had - as the clinic had...
"How long?"
He held a glass of water to my lips, tilting carefully as I drank, then sat on the bed.
"Since we got you out of there? Eight days."
"Eight..."
He nodded and kissed my forehead, and for a moment all I wanted was to have him slide into bed with me, hold me close, and let me sleep curled against his comforting warmth.
Then I remembered why I was hurting.
"Did it work?"
He blinked, confused.
"Did what work?"
"Did they save the pets? Capture the personnel? Were they able to retrieve the files? Can they break the trade?"
He looked bewildered.
"I dunno... I was too worried about you to ask..."
"Find out for me."
"Lover, it can wait..."
"No. It cannot." I shifted awkwardly, trying to sit up, and bit back a cry as pain speared up my spine from between my legs. "I must know. Now."
Grumbling under his breath, Trey reached for the intercom, but before he could press anything someone knocked at the door. He stalked across the room and opened it irritably, forcing himself to smile at the sight of Lenore standing outside.
"May I come in?"
He sighed resignedly and ushered her in with a sweep of his arm.
"Be my guest..."
She strode to my bedside and seated herself, eyeing me appraisingly.
"Well, you don't look too bad considering what you've been through."
"This pleases me. More to the point, what happened?"
She smiled.
"Well, we have enough to shut down the UK operation, and put a serious dent in the European side of things. Possibly even enough to convince the others that it isn't worth the money to continue - though I'm not holding my breath." She brushed strands of hair back from my face. "But all the same, a lot of influential people, and a whole lot of big companies, are going to be in deep, deep shit after this. Including your current employers, I'm afraid."
I shrugged slightly, fatalistically. Few things surprise me any more.
"Then they deserve all that is coming to them."
"It's not going to look very good on your record, though."
"There are more important things in life than a faultless assignment history." I rubbed at my eyes with my arm; I was tiring already. "The pets?"
"Those that were waiting are in counselling, those that were in progress are being cared for. We have some good teams working on reversing what's been done." She smiled. "There are a lot of people who are going to be very, very grateful to you."
I lay back on the pillows, my eyes closing.
"Just my job."
She chuckled.
"Sure. You keep telling yourself that. We know better." She glanced over her shoulder to where Trey was hovering. "Either of you need anything - anything at all - just think *switchboard* and someone will *answer* you right away. But for now, you both need to rest. Holly will be along later to check Alexei's bandages.""How're you feeling?"
It was whispered, and I groaned slightly.
"Horrible. I feel horrible. I hurt, everywhere, and I have a headache that does not want to go away."
Trey gently stroked my cheek.
"I mean, how do you feel..."
I rolled carefully over to rest against him.
"I feel... less traumatised than I should, I think. Maybe because it happened to someone else."
Trey blinked, not understanding, and I sighed.
"They made me into someone else. Someone who did not know you. It was that other person who was abused, not me, not the real me."
His tone was uncertain.
"And... does that make it easier?"
"I do not know. Maybe. My body knows that it was... violated, but to my mind it is a distant thing." Which might not be at all healthy, though if it meant I did not have nightmares about the experience I would be very happy...
Trey kissed my hair.
"They want you to let Greg deep-scan you."
Coldness gathered in my gut, then I forced myself to be calm.
"I think not."
"Alexei..."
"No, Trey. I deal with these thing in my own way."
He growled at me and pulled away, swinging himself upright.
"But you don't fuckin' deal with them, lover!" He paused, then closed his eyes and turned from me, his shoulders slumping. "And I am so tired of seeing you in pain."
"I am not..."
He swung to me, his eyes tired.
"Please don't lie to me anymore, Alexei. It hurts. I hold you when the nightmares wake you, I watch you cut yourself off from so much I know you'd enjoy, so you won't be vulnerable... and two weeks ago you let them bury you in your own mind and walked into the most dangerous mission you've ever undertaken. And you didn't trust me enough to tell me."
I froze. I had not thought about how he would see it.
"Trey..."
He swiped a hand across his eyes and shook his head.
"Oh, I know you didn't see it that way. But it's still true. I don't seem to be able to make you understand how much you mean to me..."
He turned away. And I felt ice-cold, and as though the foundation of my world had dropped away. The tears on my face burned.
"I am sorry..."
He took a shuddering breath.
"So am I."
He stood unmoving, facing away from me, and I realised, suddenly and with a numbing finality, what my life would be like without him - and what his would be like without me.
It hurt to move, but I had to, had to ease myself out of the bed and take the few steps to him, wrapping my arms around him from behind, unable to touch or feel properly under the layers of bandaging. But I could feel he was trembling against me, shaking very slightly with suppressed sobs.
My fault.
How could I do this to him?!
I laid my cheek against his shoulder.
"I love you. I will let them scan me."
His head jerked up, and he turned to me with a long trembling sigh. And the look on his face made everything worthwhile...
© 2004 June 15th Joules
Darkside
© 2004 WordWrights