This was a request from one of you beloved readers, you beloved sickos o' mine: loveless fangirl. It was of course requested FOREVER AGO...but I finally managed I suppose. It is a oneshot and it is most definitely not for the faint of heart. For you Oxygen readers, I know you'll feel queasy seeing Warren in such a way. I mean several of you wanted to kill me for nearly kill me for almost killing him in Ember In the Dark...good goddess.

Seriously darlings, this is DARK. I considered throwing loveless fangirl into a psychiatric care facility for requesting such a piece and myself alone with her for writing it. Nevertheless, it is written and as she has said, the fact that we should all be in the loony bin is the most interesting thing about us. Read on my darling sickos. Try not to be swept up too much in the stomach knottingness of this little oneshot...

This one's for you loveless fangirl...you sick little imp...XDDD

For the past couple of weeks, I hadn't been able to sleep. And when I couldn't sleep, I thought about the past. And when I thought about the past, I had a habit of climbing out my window, and going for walks out in the dark forest out to the old 'secret' clubhouse. It had most likely been there since the 50s based on the earliest names and dates carved into the wooden planks it was made from. Me, Zack and Layla used to play out there all the time.

I zipped up my hoodie and put my hand into my pocket against the cool breeze that brushed through the ferns lining the old, overgrown trail. The moon lit up the woods subtly like a silver lantern, but I still aimed the beam of my flashlight in front of me for guidance. I tripped slightly on a stick, but regained my balance, feeling a fern brush comfortingly against my jean-clad shin to ask if I was okay. I smiled lightly at all the scrapes and bruises that we'd get running up and down from the clubhouse in childish frolic.

When I was about eight, I had cut myself on a rusty old nail from the clubhouse, and had to get tetanus shots. When Dad demanded to know how I got cut, I told my first real lie. Instead of saying that I was playing in our secret clubhouse out in the woods, I said that I'd rode my bike down to the junk yard to fool around since Zack and Layla weren't at home. Sure that probably got me in more trouble than the truth would have, but I didn't want him to know about our secret. It was the one thing that we three had to ourselves and I didn't want to spoil that. Still, it didn't stop Layla from doing her best to childproof the place.

We hadn't gone out there together now for almost three years, but it was still our place. It still held all kinds of our mementos. There were all kinds of boxes of old toys, coloring books, board games and things inside the little shack. There were daffodils planted out front that Layla had planted and came back every spring. It was tumble-down and dirty, but it had been a fun place when we were kids.

There was a little creek you had to cross to get to the clubhouse. Zack and I had made a little bridge with planks we stole from my garage and rocks to support it. Layla had managed to plant baby's breath on either side of it. After that, Zack had made her promise not to plant any more flowers in exchange for him not stomping on them. I smiled, thinking about how he had pouted and blushed, saying that she was making the place all girly.

It was things like that that allowed me to clear my mind, go back home and sleep for a few hours before my alarm clock went off and I had to face another powerless day in a school full of people with super powers. Not to mention the glares I was receiving from my fated archenemy. Those glares were becoming more and more deathly. And it was really starting to scare me. He seemed to be wherever I went. I could've sworn I'd even seen him on the street one day when Layla, Magenta, Zack, Ethan and I had been walking back from the park.

But I wasn't sure because he'd been wearing a black-shaded helmet and riding on a big black Harley. Layla, and Ethan assured me that it hadn't been him. Zack was unsure because he'd been paying too much attention to Magenta. And Magenta had said nothing. I wasn't sure if she was disinterested or if she actually was thinking about it.

A shiver went down my spine as I thought of those cruel, dark eyes. I tasted acid in the back of my throat and shook my head firmly to rid myself of those foreboding thoughts. A part of me wished he would just beat the crap out of me already and end these fearful days of jumping at little noises, constantly feeling as if those eyes were burning into me…the sleepless nights filled with nightmares. But then again, I didn't want it to happen ever. I was afraid of him…petrified in fact, and I'm sure he knew it.

I sighed quietly in the night, feeling the ferns brush against my shins as I walked past. I wanted to melt away into the dark. I wanted to feel weightless from this entire burden. I wanted to forget the fiery eyes that had woken me with a start from my sleep tonight. I swallowed quietly and took in a deep breath. I thought about little things that happened in these woods.

Zack taking a dump out here because he couldn't make it back to the house.

Layla bringing in a new chia pet to grow on the windowsill of the clubhouse.

Me slipping off the side of the bridge and into the creek when I tried to be a trapeze artist.

The hide and seek game that lasted for five hours because Layla used her powers to grow the ferns around her to hide herself.

Zack bringing cans of spaghetti O's for lunch and forgetting to bring a can opener.

Flipping out when a bird flew in the window of the clubhouse and started flying around our heads.

I paused in my walking. Twigs snapped somewhere behind me. I looked over my shoulder, my heart jumping to my throat. I turned around every which way, pointing my flashlight, trying to find the source of the noise. I desperately hoped it was a deer or a badger or something. But the sudden blinding light cutting through the darkness and the revving of a motor cut that thought from my mind like a dead limb. My lungs seized coldness from the air and gripped it inside of me as the light raced down a knoll. It wound violently through the trees, coming for me. The nightmares of being chased through the darkness by him came true all at once.

I jerked my feet from the ground where they seemed to have grown roots and I ran. Even without powers, I was surprised my death grip on my flashlight didn't crush it. I sprinted off of the trail in between the trees, the ferns whipping past me. Small, thin branches reached for my hoodie, trying to hold me back. I'd known this forest for a very long time, and an acidy taste filled my mouth that they would betray me at such a dangerous moment.

What the hell's happening?! What the hell am I supposed to do?! He's coming after me!

I turned my running feet what I thought was back toward our street, the roaring motor filling my ears. I ducked under a low hanging branch that I hoped my chaser would get hung up on. I tore through the brushiest of growth, hoping to whatever deity that the motorcycle wouldn't be able to get through it. In the process, I was getting hung up and cut up. Sticks, brush and branches scratched at my body, clawing at my face as I ran. I could hardly breathe, but I pushed on. The sound of the motor quieted, and the frightening light faded away.

I slowed down and tossed my arms around a tree in the darkness. I quickly put out my flashlight and covered my mouth to quiet my heavy panting. The ferns around me shifted to hide me as I sunk down to the ground. I listened hard. The only thing I could hear was the cool night air moving through the dark; and my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

I listened for a long time as my heart caught up with my lungs and told them to slow down for a hot second. The ferns dampened my clothes with the cool nightly dew. My head fell back against the tree, its bark scratching at my scalp and I sighed. I reached up and wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. I licked my lips and swallowed to wet my dry throat.

My palms were still sweaty so I dropped my flashlight to the ground beside me and rubbed my hands on the thighs of my shorts. Then I rubbed at my eyes as I shuddered at the end of the chase.

Pain suddenly tore at my scalp as my hair was seized in a terrible grip. A scream clutched at my throat and my hands went to my head as I was yanked from the base of the tree. Blunt, hard knuckles cracked against my jaw. A patch of ferns was crushed as I was thrown to the ground. Their leaves reached over my body protectively. My jaw throbbed severely as I looked up at my attacker.

Flames reached up from his shoulders, casting an eerie orange glow in the dark forest. His dark eyes looked glassy against the dim light as they glared down at me. His jaw was clenched ferociously.

The toe of a boot caught me in the stomach and I pulled in an agonized gasp and ground out a yell. "Help!" His boot slammed hard into my ribs and I gasped when I heard something crack. I was tugged up by the collar of my hoodie. A punch cracked against the side of my face, and another into my mouth, throwing me down to the ferns again. It hurt hitting the ground like that. Blood welled up in my mouth and spilled from my lips. A kick found my side, driving a hurt shout from me. I was dragged up to my feet again and my back was slammed into a tree. It drove the wind from my lungs and I struggled to gasp. The assaulted areas of my body were aflame with cracked pain. I heard him growl angrily. He held me against the tree by my collar, and his fist drove any remaining air from my lungs as he punched my diaphragm.

I couldn't breathe with the furious onslaught he was imposing upon my body. Another punch to my face tossed me back to the ferns. I coughed, clutching at my stomach, trying to crawl away. "Somebody!" I screamed. Blood seeped from my gums, staining the ferns a deep red. Tears blurred my vision, forcing me to see a melted together picture of the orange-tinted forest of ferns around me.

There had never been a time in which I wanted to power up more. All of those days waking up and trying to lift a hundred pounds and being weak as a sparrow, all of those days before entering Sky High meant nothing. At this moment I'd never felt weaker in my life. And never had I so badly wanted the power and courage to fight back as blood dripped from between my lips.

I laid there on the forest floor, coughing, folding into my agonized body, bleeding and shivering in fear. I flinched, hearing his boots scuff and crunch on the leaf-covered ground as he brushed through the ferns. I grunted when the stern sole of his boot lay heavily down upon my neck. "Please, Warren!" I rasped in plead. "Please…stop!" A sob escaped from my throat.

Those were the first words I'd ever spoken to Warren Peace. Deep down, I'd been expecting a confrontation eventually. But I'd never thought it would be of this magnitude of fear, agony and helplessness.

He knelt down, the pressure on my neck heightening. His hair hung about his face as he glared down into my eyes. A shudder stampeded down my spine. His lips parted and he murmured, "You know…I fucking hate you, Stronghold. I hate that you think you're better than everyone around you, that you're untouchable because of your name."

"Please, no more!" I cried, grasping his boot, trying to breathe. "Someone help!"

The flames sprouting from his shoulders and patches of his arms flushed a shade of deep, angry red. I struggled out from under his boot, turning away on the ground. His knee suddenly dropped painfully down onto my spine causing me to cry out. He grabbed a handful of my hair in his fist and pulled my head back. I whined out loud as my scalp lit up with needle-prodding pain. I jumped with a whimper when the fire from his fingertips licked burningly at my exposed throat. I felt Warren lean close behind me and hiss into my left ear, "I hate your name and the man who gave it to you."

The heat of his fire burned threateningly against my throat. My hands clenched on the ground, trapping dirt in my fists. I heard him breathe in to say something else and I threw the soil over my left shoulder into his face. The fire left my throat and the grip on my hair lessened as he roared in fury, wiping the dirt from his eyes.

I hurriedly crawled out from beneath him, and shoved myself to my feet. I took off into the woods again as fast as I could with my aching body. I could hear him behind me. His boots crunched against the forest floor loudly with each chasing step. He was so close behind me. I could hear his breath and I could feel his angered, fiery body heat.

And from behind I was tackled. Through the ferns we tumbled. And I struggled, trying to ignore how much it hurt to move, to try fighting back. He straddled me, pinning me strongly against the crushed ferns, trapping my wrists against their mournful dew-painted leaves. "Please Warren!" I managed to breathe out as I panted in exhaustion and pain, fearfully looking up into his eyes.

"Now you've really gone and pissed – me – off." He hissed, leaning over me. His fingers clenched my wrists tightly, and I could swear I heard my bones creak in protest. "Ow! Please, Warren! Don't!" I struggled beneath him for a freedom which, somewhere deep inside, I knew wasn't going to be gained.

The leaves scraped on the ground when he lifted his knee from them. My eyes shut tight and I yelled out in pain when he pressed it hard into my bruised stomach. I pulled in a holey breath of air and groaned, "Please, let me up," I pressed my wrists against his big, rough palms and writhed.

"I'm stronger than you." He murmured menacingly.

"Get off me!" I tried shouting, but his knee was pressed so painfully against my diaphragm, it came out as a loud rasp. I thrust my own knee up against his back, but it didn't seem to even faze him.

He shook his head, his eyes burning down at me in the dimness of the orange-tinted trees. He released one of my wrists only to seize my shoulder. His knee lifted from my stomach and I sucked in a much-needed breath. And then he rolled me onto my belly beneath him. I groaned when his hand grabbed the back of my neck and pressed me firmly into the forest floor. My chin scraped against dead leaves and the ferns wiped at my teary eyes. My free hands pushed at the ground, trying to buck him off of me, reached to pull his palm from my neck, to push at his knees. I wriggled, trying to get out from beneath him.

I felt the heat of him as he leaned in close behind me. He growled quietly and cruelly into my ear, "I obviously haven't broken you yet…"

His belt buckle clinked behind me as he undid it. I heard him pull the long strip of leather from the belt loops. "No! Please, stop!" I cried out as he let go of my neck and seized my left wrist, yanking it around behind my back. I pulled at my trapped wrist, clawing at the ground with my free hand. I felt his belt, warm from his body heat, loop around my wrist. I struggled against him as he captured my other wrist and twisted it around behind my back. "Ah! God, no, please!" He slipped my hand into the manacling loop of his belt and pulled it tight, winding the sturdy leather around my wrists.

I struggled when he let go of my bound wrists. But freedom was so far away from me that it hurt. He lifted up off of me slightly, and flipped me over onto my back by my throat. I gagged in his heated grip. He straddled me again, watching me struggle under him. His glaring eyes burned in my tearful gaze. A lock of his red-streaked hair crossed his eye as he tilted his head at me, like a silent, unfeeling predator.

He released my throat, allowing me to pull in a gasp. Instead he pressed his palm against my chest and fisted my hoodie. He pressed me with a bruising force into the ground. I pulled at my bonds where my hands lay trapped uncomfortably beneath me. "Please," I whispered desperately, my lip quivering. "Let me go." My body was trembling. And terror flooded me when, with his free hand, Warren reached down to the front of my jeans.

"Warren," I breathed, "what are you doing? Please,"

I struggled futilely as he undid the button.

"Please! Don't!"

He jerked down the zipper, glaring into my eyes.

"Stop!"

He grasped the waistbands of my jeans and my boxers and yanked them down from my hips. I squirmed, "No! Stop!" He slipped off of me and tugged my jeans and boxers from my legs, taking my loosely tied sneakers from my bare feet. I turned onto my side, tucking my knees in close, "Please stop!"

He forced me back onto my back, unstirred by my wriggling. He fisted the front of my hoodie and slammed me down onto the ground, the dead leaves scraped against my backside. I squeezed my eyes shut. They burned from the tears. "Don't do this!" I pleaded. Terror dried my throat and wet my eyes further.

I squirmed helplessly against his strength. He seized my legs and yanked them up. With his forearm he pinned my thighs against my chest. This couldn't happen. I heard his jeans rustle and a zipper being yanked down. It was happening. "No! Please," I cried out, "I'm begging you, Warren, please!" I tugged and tugged at my bound wrists that were being crushed beneath me. I twisted my body either way, trying to escape what fate he'd chosen for me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end when he spit thoroughly into his palm and reached past my field of vision. I tried desperately to push him off me with my feet, but he kept my body pinned strongly to the forest floor.

He glared menacingly into my eyes and growled angrily, "I'm going to break you, Stronghold." I felt him press himself, hot and solid against me and I jumped. "Oh god, please, no!" I pleaded. I squeezed my eyes shut and groaned in discomfort as he pushed into me. And then he gave a firm thrust and all of a sudden his length was shoved deeply inside of me. I yelled out in pain, my untouched insides burning in white hot agony of the heated, unwelcome intrusion. I choked out a cry when he pulled roughly back and thrust angrily back into me.

He grasped my thighs in an iron grip, pressing them up against my chest. My eyes widened in agony and I cried out again. Fire blazed in the depths of his dark eyes as they burningly glowered down at me, observing every wounded feature of my face. The pain was excruciating. With each violent thrust I felt as if I was getting closer and closer to being torn in half. My arms felt cruelly numb and scraped up beneath me. The ferns caressed my face, and at that moment it didn't feel comforting. It felt illicit, uninvited and stolen. And Warren was stealing everything from me. Security, pride, courage, comfort…innocence.

My body trembled and seized with hurt. I tried to be as still as I could, because struggling made it hurt even more. But my body still tensed with jumps, stiffening muscles, flinches, shuddering and screams into the night. I blinked the tears from my eyes as they welled up again. Oh god, it hurt. I felt something warm and wet trickling down the small of my back as he pressed my knees closer and closer to my face, curling my body.

"P-please! Ah! Ah! S…" I sobbed, "stop! Please stop!"

But his burning, thieving eyes studied my agonized face as they leered through me. I squeezed my eyes shut, banishing tears from them again. I turned my head to one side, trying to hide from those eyes. Trying to escape that terrifying gaze. He seized my chin and forced my head back around to face him.

"Look at me." He hissed, mercilessly thrusting deep into my insides as he did.

I shut my eyes tighter. I couldn't look at him. Don't look at him. I whimpered in pain as the intruder picked up his pace. Don't look at him.

Suddenly my eyes flew open wide when my muscles tensed all at the same time and dark spots danced across my eyes. "AH!" My face heated and sweat trickled down from my temple. I swallowed to wet my throat. Air passed through my skull, speckling my vision with dark spots with Warren's next thrust. I bit down on my lip to quiet the moan.

Ohh, fuck! No, why does it feel…? It can't! Oh, god…

His dark eyes had a faint angry glow as they reflected the growing orange light as the random patches of fire reached higher from his skin. My stomach clenched and my eyes shut tightly. I couldn't help it, my jaw dropped open and a moan jumped from my mouth. "Ahhhh-haa!" He pressed my thighs harder into my chest, bruising my flesh, angling my body, nearly folding me in half. He let out an animalistic growl, digging his fingertips into my legs as he thrust into me. My eyes rolled up slightly and I ground out a yell through my clenched teeth.

It still hurt horribly…but there was a feeling that shocked my stomach, that filled my temples with clouds, and seized my lungs in a chilly grip every few thrusts or so…it felt fucking good. I writhed beneath him, sobbing, whimpering, desperate to feel it again. I tried to swallow. I tried to breathe. My body shivered and I groaned. My arms were so numb that all I could feel from them was the cold, scraping ground beneath me.

There it was again. That consuming vibration that flooded my nerves with pleasure. My body relished it. Part of my mind relished it. But the other part of my mind hated it. I tried struggling again and hissed in pain despite his slickened movements. I pulled open my eyes and he trapped me in his glare again. I wanted so badly to escape from this and escape from the feeling of wanting more of it. All of it wasn't right. It was so fucking wrong.

So fucking wrong…

My blood was boiling in the most inappropriate place for this situation. My body was horrifically betraying me. It hurt so fucking much. It was so fucking wrong. And yet, I was so fucking hard. I threw my head back against the ferns, wrought with the disgusting pleasure and deliriously sobbing with the pain. His fingers slipped under my head and tangled in my hair. "Look at me." He growled, yanking my head up from the ground by my hair.

My eyes stung with hot tears, my sight tinged with orange blurriness. My muscles knotted throughout my body as I looked up at him as he demanded. Warren's hard, cruel, unfeeling expression burned itself into my retinas. I whimpered, my free leg twitching with his next agonizing thrust. My knee seemed to have caught him in the jaw. He growled in fury, releasing my hair, and delivering a fierce punch to my own jaw. My head was violently tossed to one side, making me cry out as pain and blood welled in my mouth. My thighs pressed firmly against my chest, pressing air from my lungs as I gasped in air. His onslaught grew in force and pace. He was so angry that flames were starting to burn my skin, only adding to the enormous amount of agony I was already in.

I yelled out, groaning, whimpering, and crying, tossing my head back and forth. But it was the only resistance I had left. He'd taken everything else away from me. And it could only get worse.

My muscles were tensed so hard that they could have been stone. My shoulders hunched forward and my breathing quickened in my chest. My eyes widened and my lip quivered with an upcoming scream. I knew exactly what was happening. And beneath my scream, I felt a deep sense of shame and loathing as my own fluid spurted over my chest.

That was so…right up until my insides were seared with white hot lava, burned, and scorched to an unimaginable agony. My vision itself went white as the air left my lungs. What air was drawn back in tasted of blood and smoke. And my body allowed me one final, bone-chilling scream before the white faded to black.

I awoke with a shiver. The birds chirped placidly in the cool air. My lip trembled as a chill slipped through my body as my mind became aware of where I was and how cold I felt. I opened my eyes to the misty sunlight of early morning. Trees hung over me, their leaves slightly quivering against the chill as I did quiver.

My eyes weakly opened and closed tightly quickly. Light had pierced my pupils and stabbed at my temples. Slowly, I tried to open my eyes again, letting the light in a little at a time, but I shut them again. I tried to wet my dry, cracked lips with my sand paper tongue. Vaguely, I tasted blood as I tried to work moistness back to my tongue.

Numb and cold, I tried to lift a hand to my face. My muscles ached as my arm twisted from behind my back. With trembling fingers I rubbed gently at my eyes. They hurt. My jaw throbbed. I stiffly pulled my other arm out from beneath me, and winced at the sleeping, numb flesh. Everything hurt.

I got my hand firmly on the ground beneath me, feeling the pointy edge of something jab into my palm as I cradled my sleep-ridden arm. Lifting my head, I pulled my eyes open and blinked at my blurred vision. Green. Everywhere.

My eyes focused slowly as I blinked tiredly. All around me were ferns. Just me and hundreds of ferns. Some were crushed. Some were broken. Some sat fine, untouched and green. Some were lightly spattered with blood.

My jeans were lying forgotten at their roots a few short feet away. Fearfully, I glanced down at myself. Half naked, covered in dirt, a few dead leaves stuck to me, and blood smearing my inner thighs. I moved my leg quickly when I spotted the blood and drew in an agonized hiss and cried out.

I pressed my face to the forest floor and pulled in a deep breath. He'd made me bleed. I wiped the tears that trailed down my cheeks, scraping my skin with dirt. I bit the inside of my lip as I pushed myself up slightly, and reached for my pants. Fucking god and hell and all kinds of agonized curses went through my mind. I failed to stifle my sounds of pain when I attempted to slip into my jeans and boxers while I laid amongst the ferns.

My entire body was trembling as I secured the button on the front of my pants. I shivered out a sigh and went boneless against the ground. A fern dripped dewdrops onto my face as if it were crying for me. I opened my eyes and drew in a trembling breath.

"Help! Somebody!"

"I'm stronger than you."

I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my teeth.

"I'm begging you, Warren, please!"

"I'm going to break you, Stronghold."

I grabbed at my temples, letting out a sob. In my ears echoed that illicit scream of pleasure that had burst from my lips. I scratched at my scalp and raked my nails down my face. I hated the memory. I hated myself. I hated myself for not being strong enough. I hated myself for letting it happen. I hated my body for betraying me. I hated it, and myself, for liking it.

I tried to banish the memory of those dark eyes, burning down at me and the words he'd growled. "Look at me."

I squeezed my head between my hands, sinking my teeth into my lip as tears cascaded from my eyes. Shame. Pain. Disgust. I was filled with a deep loathing for that part of me that had relished what Warren had done to me. That part of me that wanted to feel it once more…

I shook my head violently, yelling out. My body curled up stiffly. I grabbed at my arms, relentlessly digging into my flesh. I tasted blood seeping from the bite on my lip. I deserved it. I deserved to be powerless. I deserved all of the pain I was in right now.

But I'd never wanted to be strong more in my entire life. If I had been strong, none of this would have happened. If I hadn't been so weak I would never have felt all of the things I had felt. I wouldn't be motionless on the forest floor, surrounded by ferns that had lay witness to all that had happened. I pushed myself gingerly to my knees, wincing in pain.

A breeze swept through the ferns, causing them to reach for me. They brushed against my body gently, attempting to comfort me. I yelled out and grabbed at the waving plants by their delicate stalks and ripped them from the soil. I yanked them from the ground, threw them down, ripped leaves off from others, and crushed them with the weak force of my fists.

I panted with the weak exertion. I clenched my fists on the ground and pressed my face into the back of my hands. I whimpered loudly at the pain and collapsed on my side. The tears ran hot down my face. I forced my palms to my eyes, sifting dirt and fern's blood as I pressed into them.

I covered my face with my hands and cried into them, shivering and shamed.

"I'm stronger than you."

I yelled out again, and cried into my hands. Get…out…of my head… My trembling lips uttered another sob into my palms. I hated every fiber of my being. I hated it all.

"Will? Will?! Are you out here?! Will?! Where are you, Buddy?!"

I couldn't answer my father's calls. I curled tighter into myself. I tucked my head into my arms, hiding my face away from the world. I didn't want to be found. I wanted to be forgotten. I wanted to lie here until I died. I wanted to die right now.

Fern leaves brushed against one another as my father moved through them and the dead leaved crunched on the ground.

Go away…go away…go away…don't look at me…

"Will? Jesus, Will."

I flinched when I felt a big hand touch my shoulder. "Whoa! Easy, Buddy. I told you not to come walking out here at night,"

His voice was sincere and worried as he softly berated me. I heard a long pull of a zipper and winced with a cry, haunted by the memory of that sound. "Easy, Buddy. It's okay." He laid something warm over me, his jacket.

"Are you alright? What the hell happened? It looks like a motorcycle's been tearing through the woods. Will, please look at me."

His hands pried my arms from my face, but I kept my eyes closed. I heard a small but distinct intake of breath. "Jesus, Will." His hand brushed through my hair and I flinched again, shying away from his large palm. It was like his bruising hands…

"C'mere. C'mon." His hands slipped under me and I gasped in pain when he pulled me upward. "Easy, Buddy. I'm sorry." He held me close to his chest and carried me through the ferns. My body was inflamed with agony as gravity pulled down on my wounds. "It's okay, Will." Tears seeped from my closed eyelids. It wasn't okay. Everything hurt. My arms, my ribs, my stomach, my face, my legs, my neck. And most of all, my mind.

"…most certainly evidence of a struggle and violence. He has dark bruising on his face, sides, thighs, around his wrists, scrapes on his legs and his chin, broken ribs, burns,"

I was turned on my side away from the door. I stared at the needle in my hand. I listened to the machine beeping steadily, keeping track of my heartbeat. I followed the tube inserted into my vein with my eyes up to a bag hanging from an IV marked 'morphine'.

"he still hasn't spoken…won't answer any questions,"

Morphine was a liar. It didn't take away all of the pain. My body felt numb, sure, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

"Mr. and Mrs. Stronghold, I am very concerned for him and the environment he's been exposed to,"

"You think I did this? You disgusting bastard!"

"Steve!"

"I think not, Mr. Stronghold. According to the violence inflicted on his body, you would have had bruised knuckles and various,"

My heartbeat needed to shut the hell up. It was giving me a headache. Morphine was most definitely a liar. My mind hurt even worse than before as I slid in and out of foggy consciousness.

"Will you just spit it out? That is my son lying in there half dead!"

I pressed my hands against my face. I fought back the images that were summoned. I tried to push the dark glare from my mind. I tried to forget the pain. I tried desperately to forget the pleasure. And it all failed as hot tears wetted my face and my palms. I pulled the blanket over my head, pulling in a breath at the pain from my taped ribs. I wanted to hide forever. Never face anyone again.

"…There are distinct signs of rape."