Scan Enforced rest - especially bed-rest - is not something I have ever enjoyed. And this time I was not even able to hold a book or turn its pages. My hands, my fingers, ached ferociously under the dressings, and I was unable to do anything for myself. Anything at all. Which was humiliating. Trey couldn't understand why.
"S'not like I haven't done it before." He pointed out reasonably as he helped me back from the bathroom. "I mean, I touch you everywhere, every day. Why does my helping you pee piss you off so much?"
I scowled at him.
"Because... it is a private thing..."
He grinned and kissed my cheek.
"You're gonna be even worse when you need a crap, aren't you?"
I closed my eyes with a shudder. I had been trying not to think about it. Regardless of the medication I had been given to make the function less painful for me, I knew it was still going to hurt. And having to rely on Trey, afterwards...
"You do not need to be so cheerful about it, Albert."
He pretended to pout, trying not to grin.
"Aww, you know how much I love looking after you. Doesn't happen often enough."
I winced as I slid carefully back into bed and propped myself on my side, frowning at the TV set in the corner.
"I would like to watch the global news channel."
He sighed and reached for the remote...Devon and Stephan had been the first to visit, the telekinetic bouncing into the room like a boisterous kitten, the marksman following a little more sedately. Devon seated himself on the edge of the bed and grinned at me.
"You did it! Fuckin' great!"
I smiled wearily: his enthusiasm was exhausting.
"I am very glad that it worked."
Stephan stood behind his lover, his eyes twinkling.
"Mon ami, you are so brave. I salute you. When you are recovered, I would like to show you 'ow much I admire you."
Trey's eyes narrowed.
"Oh yeah? How?"
An eloquent Gallic shrug.
"I do not know 'ow. But I am sure we can think of something."
And then Greg Mahican appeared at the door, and I felt myself go cold. The big telepath smiled, kindly.
"Is it a good time, Alexei?"
Devon grinned encouragingly: Trey watched me closely, trying not to show how apprehensive he was that I would change my mind.
But it would be best to get it done, get it over. I nodded.
"There is no good time. This is as good as any."
I could feel Trey slump in relief. Devon rose, gingerly stroking my hair, his eyes serious.
"'s worth it, 'lexei. Honest. I know."
Stephan nodded.
"I agree." He laid a hand on his lover's shoulder. "We will come visit again, later."
"Thank you..." I could feel myself starting to tremble. I already knew how... horrible this was going to be.
As the two left the room, Greg glanced at Trey.
"You will need to act as anchor."
Trey nodded, then stripped and climbed into the bed behind me. Greg crouched down at the bedside.
"I prefer to be naked too, Alexei, but only if it won't upset you."
I eyed him helplessly. My mind, my memories, my whole psyche, was going to be naked to his touch: having his naked body against mine was nothing compared to that. I nodded, and he smiled.
"Thank you." He undressed briskly, then slid under the covers, facing me, his hands cupping my face.
"You need to be comfortable. Well, as much as possible, anyway."
I swallowed and wriggled a little further down into the bed, Trey a warm solid presence behind me. Greg waited until I was still then eased himself forwards until his body was contoured against mine, firmly but not restrictively. I tensed, then found I could relax. Greg wasn't threatening, nor erect, just warm strength before me. I almost felt safe between them...
*Are you ready?*
*I will never be ready. But I am prepared.*
*... try to let go...*Cabbage.
I woke to the smell of cooked cabbage. I don't like cabbage. I eat it, because it is one of the few vegetables that we can get hold of easily, and it's good for me, but I don't like it.
What had woken me? Oh - voices.
I rubbed my eyes and peered at the battered clock on the floor beside my bed. Eleven pm. In an hour it would be my birthday. My thirteenth birthday. I would be considered a man!
I listened to the voices. Papa's, high... and pleading? I frowned. Why would he sound like that? There were other voices, low, threatening. I heard something smash, then something thud against a wall...
I crawled out of bed, dragging on a pair of trousers and a baggy shirt, and slipped out of my room to see what was going on.
In the kitchen two men were holding my father upright while a third was punching him. I watched disbelievingly for maybe two heartbeats - then charged into the kitchen, kicking and shouting at the strangers. Not consciously noticing the expression of horror on papa's face until a large hand grabbed the back of my collar and hoisted me onto my toes, the front of the shirt cutting into my throat and choking me.
"And what do we have here?"
"He has nothing to do with this."
The man holding me turned me to face him, and I saw a heavy, jowly face with small cruel eyes and a small cruel smile. He eyed me for a moment, then turned back to papa.
"Pretty. And unbroken, I assume?"
"Leave him be!"
"No, I don't think so. I think we'll take him as payment."
"No!"
The man holding me chuckled.
"I'll let you choose. Your son - or your life."
Papa glared for a moment, and I thought he was going to fight - then he slumped. There were tears in his eyes. They shocked me. I had never seen a man cry before, not even papa when mama had died.
"P... papa...?"
The one who had been hitting him giggled.
"Pity. I was enjoying that."
"I'm sure we can find you someone else, Piotr." The pressure on my neck eased a little as the man holding me leaned down to speak in my ear.
"Now you, young one, are going to do exactly as I say, or we'll kill your papa. You don't want that, do you?"
"N... no..." My voice sounded very young and scared.
"Good... You're coming with us."
And they dragged me out to a big car, not even allowing me to put anything on my feet...They made me kneel on the floor of the car, and talked over me as we drove. I didn't understand anything of what they were saying, and I was cold - it was a bitter night. I shivered, scared and not understanding what was happening, for what seemed like hours until the car stopped and I was hauled out. The stink of city air made me sneeze, and the men laughed.
My feet were sore and bruised by the time we entered a building. I'd never been inside a prison before, but knew what they were... This one smelt of sweat, and urine... I waited, watching as they spoke to someone in a uniform. Money changed hands. Then I was dragged along cold, murmuring corridors to a room with bars...
A man in uniform unlocked the cage door, and a big, ugly-looking man stepped outside. He stared at me, his face slowly breaking into a grin.
"Nice..."
The big man holding me sighed. His voice was apologetic.
"We can't get you out, yet. Petrovnic is fighting to have the appeal heard, but they're dragging their heels, as we expected. In the meantime, will this do to... ease the tedium?"
The other man nodded.
"Oh yes. I'm sure he'll keep us nicely amused."
"Good. I'll report back when we have news."
"You do that." The ugly man grabbed my hair, wrapping it around his hand, and turned back to the cell.
"Fresh meat, comrades!"
Bewildered, frightened, I saw them leer as they murmured their appreciation. Then the ugly one dragged me inside, and the man in uniform locked the door again...Hands on me, pulling off my clothes, then... touching me. I tried to hide myself, to push the hands away, shouting to them to stop, but a heavy hand slapped into my face. I tasted blood from my lip, and the ugly man leaned down to my ear, holding a small but very sharp knife before my eyes.
"Keep your mouth shut, brat. No one will help you, here - but if you make any noise we'll hurt you. More than we're going to hurt you anyway, that is. I'm sure you don't want us to cut out your tongue..."
I stopped struggling. And then the nightmare began. The ugly one shoved me down over the edge of the bed, on my stomach, and pushed my legs apart...
I froze as I felt the hard, hot thing pressing against me, against that... unclean part of me... what... what was he doing?... no... you can't do that, not there... no...
Pain... unbearable burning pain, between my legs, inside me. I felt sick, and so ashamed... Shaking, my hands clenched in the thin blanket, tears streaming down my face... so wrong... so dirty...
He grunted and I felt... something... then the hard thing was pulled out, and something wet and sticky trickled down my leg... my guts were cramping, I needed to empty my bowels...
Another hard thing shoved into me, and the pain got worse...
Time slowed, seemed almost to stop as I realised what they were doing to me. My body went completely cold, and I could hardly breathe... When he had finished, when he'd... ejaculated, I remembered the word, inside me, another one took his place... then another...
There were eight men in that cell. They took turns, and when they'd finished they started all over again. By the time they wrapped me in a blanket and laid me on the floor under the lower bunk I was no longer fully conscious - just one vast burning bleeding pain, some small part of me that still knew who I was curled into a little shrivelled ball somewhere deep inside...I had to learn to not-be while I was there. I had to be a robot, an automaton, to be unfeeling. I never knew when one of them was going to grab my hair, drag me out from under the bunk, push me down and... violate me. Use me. Fuck me. Rape me. I learned the words. The ugly one, Radinski, used to bend my fingers backwards to force me to beg to be fucked: the pain of it was marginally less than having my fingers broken, I discovered... then they decided that taking me two at a time, one in my rectum, the other in my mouth, saved taking turns... They beat me the first time - for vomiting as Radinski's penis shoved deeply into my throat - breaking a rib, and afterwards gave me even less to eat, to stop it happening again...
I lived with pain, in pain. After a while I forgot what it was like not to hurt. I became something close to animal. It was the only way to survive.
Then, after a while - four months? Five? - something happened. I started becoming aware of their... their feelings... their emotions... the ugliness, violence, brutality, hatred within.
Within the others in the prison...
The day four of them thought it might be fun to fuck me all at the same time, two in my mouth, the other two...I remember the pain...
Then I don't remember anything until I found myself in a field, naked except for the blood coating my skin and a thin blanket...I could hear weeping, from somewhere behind me, and tried to turn, but something, a warm, strong body in front of me, was preventing it... I forced my eyes open, to gaze into Greg's compassionate face. He touched my face gently.
*Are you OK?*
I couldn't work out why he was asking.
Then I remembered. Everything. And the world collapsed."What the fuck happened?!" Trey struggled to keep his voice low: behind him Alexei was sleeping - a drugged sleep, he'd been uncontrollable when he'd broken out of the scan, and for everyone's safety Holly had had to administer a strong sedative. Greg rubbed a hand over his brow, trying to ease the thumping headache within.
"Something that's never happened to me before. He pulled himself out of the deepscan. That shouldn't be possible."
Trey shook his head, bewildered.
"And?"
"There's a section of memory so deeply buried he'd do anything rather than face it. And I rather suspect it has to do with the mysterious deaths of Radinksi and his cellmates."
"Alexei killed them?"
"I'd guess so."
"But they deserved to die. 'lexi's happy to kill under those circumstances."
"Yes, now. But we were dealing with a child..." Greg closed his eyes. "What a birthday present..."
"What do we do now?"
"I'm going to give him time to recover a little before continuing."
"Don't think I want him to continue."
"I appreciate why you'd feel that way, but we can't leave the memories half-buried like this. They'll only make him more unstable."
Trey glanced back at his partner, biting his lip.
"'lexi..."
"He's going to need you to be strong."
Trey brushed at his brimming eyes.
"Yeah, I know." He gripped the 'path's wrist. "Will he be OK?"
Greg eyed the younger man, then smiled.
"I think so. He's strong - and he has you. Just go easy with him for the next few days. I'll be back tomorrow."Night. Trey watched his partner - his lover - sleep, eyes shadowed with anxiety. Alexei had reluctantly told him what had happened - in clipped, unemotional and brief terms - a year and a half after they'd first met, but living it was completely different. And that was only at second hand: Greg had filtered the memories, making them easier for Trey to bear. For 'lexi...
How had he survived it? How could he bear to have anyone touch him, intimately, after all he'd suffered? And he trusted his partner so deeply... Trey stroked his hair, feeling... humbled.
Alexei's eyes opened. Trey smiled, then leaned down and kissed his forehead.
"Hello beautiful. How you feeling?"
Alexei whimpered - then burst into silent tears.
"Hey, hey now..." Trey hastily pulled him into a hug. "What's this for, lover? I've got you, you're safe..."
"... you saw..." He could hardly hear the voice. He nuzzled the fine black hair.
"Yeah, I saw. I don't know how you survived. I couldn't have. I'm so proud of you, love."
"... but..." the Russian was sobbing, approaching hysteria. Trey frowned and held him more tightly.
"No buts, Alexei. I love you. Love you even more now I know what you went through. Want to take care of you for ever."
Some of the tension went out of the body shaking in his arms, but the tears didn't stop. Trey sighed and kissed the top of his partner's head.
"It's OK. We'll do everything we can to fix it, love."
For a minute or two they were still, Trey cradling his weeping partner. Then Alexei, his voice tear-choked, whispered,
"... shameful..."
Trey stilled for a second, then frowned.
"Shameful...? You're... ashamed? Why, love? It wasn't your fault."
"... doesn't matter... should have been stronger..."
Trey rocked gently, soothingly, stroking Alexei's hair. Well, this went a long way towards explaining his lover's obsession with cleanliness, the control-freak part of his nature, why he craved an impossible obscurity. Probably why he'd chosen his profession too...
"... should have killed myself..."
Trey froze. What?!
"Oh no, 'lexi, you don't ever, ever think that."
No reply, just more tears. Trey bit his lip and held his lover more tightly, wondering what to do. Then he remembered what Lenore had said, and thought, hesitantly and feeling stupid, *switchboard*.
A warm, friendly *voice* answered him.
*Hello Trey. Who would you like to speak to?*
*Um... is Greg around?*
*One moment...*
He waited, rocking Alexei and feeling - odd - for a few seconds, then;
*Trey, it's Greg. What's wrong?*
*'lexi... he's talking suicide...*
*Calm down, Trey, he's not going to do anything. He can't. You're with him, and he can't use his hands.*
Which was true, Trey realised. There was no need to panic - at the moment, anyway.
*But what about later, Greg? What if...?*
*At the moment he's working through everything. This reaction isn't unusual - he's been forced to face a terrible, traumatic ordeal. He needs to come to terms with it. That will come. Tomorrow's session should help.* A brief silence, then, *He really needs to rest, but I can't see that happening until he's too exhausted to stay awake, and then he's likely to have nightmares. I'm afraid tonight is going to be an ordeal for you as well. If it would set your mind at rest, I'll monitor him overnight.*
*Can't you do something? Make him forget, or something?*
*The whole point of this exercise is to... exorcise the memories, Trey. To do that, he has to remember everything that happened.*
The American nuzzled his partner's hair. If he'd understood what was involved he'd never have pressured Alexei into doing this. Greg *sighed*.
*I know how you feel, Trey, but believe me, he will be far... healthier, and happier, afterwards. Though it's going to take him a while to recover, and he will be different afterwards.*
Panic gathered in Trey's chest again.
*Different how?*
*More relaxed, more confident. More in touch with his feelings. More emotional, probably.*
*You sure?*
*I'm sure.*
Trey sighed, rubbing gently at Alexei's back.
*Well, OK then... thanks...*
*Any time, Trey. Just *call* if it gets too much for you. I'll come over and help if need be.*
*OK...* Not that he would, of course. To do so would be to admit defeat, and fuck that!It was probably the most miserable night of Trey's life. Alexei managed to sleep - lapse into unconsciousness, more like - around three in the morning, only to wake an hour later, screaming.
Alexei did not scream. Even that time he'd been shot, he hadn't cried out.
Trey wasn't sure whether it was a bad thing or not, after what Greg had *said*, but it scared the shit out of him. He cradled his partner tightly, rocking, murmuring soothingly as Alexei whimpered and sobbed against him.
" 'm here, lover. Never gonna let you go."
He wasn't sure if the words got through to Alexei, but after half an hour he calmed a little. Gazing up at the American from red and swollen eyes, he whispered,
"... please don't go..."
"I'm not goin' anywhere. I love you."
Alexei nestled a little closer, eyelids fluttering closed then forcing them open again. Trey kissed his forehead.
"Sleep, love."
"... can't... monsters in the dark..."
Heart aching, Trey nuzzled his hair.
"I'll protect you."
The Russian tensed in his arms.
"... can't... monsters - inside me..."
Trey kept his voice calm, resolute.
"Then we'll fight them together..."Angel's eyes snapped open and she blinked, disoriented. She'd woken before the alarm went off, straight from a dream though the details were already evaporating like mist in sunshine. Beside her Razor stirred awake.
*What's wrong?* the 'path said.
*Nothing,* Angel frowned. *I think.*
Razor drew the cat-girl closer, sleepily nuzzling her neck.
*Get some more sleep. We've got an hour before we have to get up.*
Angel nodded, snuggling into her lover.
*I want to see the Russian - Alexei.*
Razor frowned though she didn't open her eyes again.
*Why?*
*Lenore told me what he did, some of it anyway.* The ex-pet shivered. *I want... to thank him.*
*I'll come with you then.*
*All right...* decision made the cat-girl drifted back to sleep.Trey dragged his eyes open at the quiet tap on the door and mumbled a "C'min." Holly's face appeared, smiling gently.
"Just want to check on Alexei. Is that OK?"
Trey tried to swallow, nodded, and peered down at his lover. Alexei was asleep - sort of. Unconscious anyway, shivering, damp with sweat. Hours earlier Trey had stripped and settled himself in the bed, upright against the head, the Russian in his arms, holding him as he dozed and dreamed and woke screaming...
The American felt disorientated from lack of sleep, body aching, eyes gritty. He kissed Alexei's forehead, rocking gently as his lover whimpered.
"Holly's here, beautiful. She wants to check you..."
Dark eyes shot open as the Russian tensed, then slumped, panting, gazing miserably at the doctor as she sat on the edge of the bed.
"How are you feeling? Physically, I mean."
Alexei swallowed.
"Aching..." His voice was croaky, and Trey reached awkwardly for the glass of water beside the bed, holding it to the Russian's lips. Holly nodded.
"I'm not surprised. Is anything hurting worse than it did yesterday?"
He shook his head listlessly. She glanced at Trey.
"I can see you both had a bad night. Would you like to bathe?"
"Would that be OK?"
"Sure. Don't worry about the dressings getting wet - I'll redo them afterwards."
Trey shifted slightly, wincing, then nuzzled Alexei.
"Would you like that, lover? A quick shower to freshen up?"
"... I suppose so..."
Trey refused to let such uncharacteristic apathy bother him. It was just another symptom of what Alexei was going through.
"Come on then." He moved over to the edge of the bed, Alexei a dead weight in his arms. "Come on beautiful, take some of your own weight."
It was worrying that Alexei did as he was told, silently, without objection.Alexei stood passively while Trey washed him, not responding to the hands on his body - which was probably a good thing, the American thought, after last night. Trey kept his touches brief and efficient, drying his partner gently then ushering him back to bed - a bed with fresh sweet bedclothes, he noted with gratitude: Holly had replaced the sweaty rumpled sheets while they'd been in the shower. She smiled brightly as Alexei eased back into the bed.
"Let's take a look at those hands."
The fingers were knitting correctly, she was happy to see. The other injuries had healed - except for the brand. That would require surgery: the scar was nearly an inch deep, the nerves around and under it destroyed. Plenty of time for that. Given his mental state at the moment she avoided touching his genitals: a cursory look told her that there was no infection where they'd removed the ring, and the bruising where the cockring had been too tight and left on for too long had completely faded. She pulled the duvet back up and turned to smile at Trey.
"Would you like some breakfast? Either of you?"
Trey nodded.
"Coffee'd be good."
She chuckled and *called* the switchboard, and minutes later a smiling waitress arrived at the door, carrying a tray with a jug of coffee, two mugs, a plate of bacon and eggs and a rack of toast. Holly placed the tray on the bedside table, wished them good morning, then left for the infirmary. Trey sat on the bed and poured coffee, lifting the mug to Alexei's lips.
The Russian turned his head away.
"Alexei - you need to eat and drink."
"... I'm not thirsty..."
"Please? For me?"
The tears started again. Trey put down his mug and pulled his partner into his arms.
"Shhh. It's OK, you don't have to."
"... s... sorry..."
Greg's words notwithstanding, Trey was troubled: this was so unlike Alexei... He told himself it was still far too early to tell what would happen. Greg would be back later to continue the scan - they had a long way to go yet...
© 2004 July 11th Joules
Darkside
© 2004 WaveWrights