This is the fan-fiction I started in response to my poll results. I do warn, this will be ideologically sensitive and graphic. Ahead be monsters, so be aware!

Trauma

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Teaser: "He looked at me again before moving toward me. 'Y-you d-don't c-care if I'm d-dirty?' he asked, his voice so small and soft and scared.
Inside, my heart ached. I reached for him again. 'No, I don't. Come here, Reno. You're scaring me.' "

Inspiration: My poll results from my profile, which was "Rape or Almost Rape". Plus, I started the story on Halloween. And Reno, unfortunately, is the usual victim of bad things in my fan-fiction… I apologize to Reno ahead of time….

Rating: M

Warnings:
-Violence
-Manipulation
-Obsession
-Betrayal
-Swearing
-Pain
-Rape
-Implied possibility of torture

Main Pairing: Tseng/Reno

Minor Pairings:
-(rape)OC/Reno

Setting: Cannon enough setting, I suppose. Alternate timeline, at the very least.

POV: Reno for the trauma; Tseng with the aftermath. First person perspective from both.

Summary: When an unexpected trauma emotionally cripples Reno, he refuses to let anyone but Tseng touch him. Tseng is terrified of this side of the man who always took so much joy in life, and Tseng is willing to do whatever it takes to fix Reno.

Additional ANs: I usually don't write things this dark. Unfortunately, if I ever reach a happy place with this tale, it's going to take some time. I mean, I begin by traumatizing one of the main characters: if that ain't a sign of where this is headed, nothing is…
All of that said, I want to give this a happy ending… which means this story is probably going to get long on me .

Important Notes: The reason I've chosen to write this piece the way I have is mostly for awareness. One article I read from the New York Times stated,

"While most experts agree women are raped far more often than men, 1.4 percent of men in a recent national survey said they had been raped at some point. The study, by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, found that when rape was defined as oral or anal penetration, one in 71 men said they had been raped or had been the target of attempted rape, usually by a man they knew. (The study did not include men in prison.)
And one in 21 said they had been forced to penetrate an acquaintance or a partner, usually a woman; had been the victim of an attempt to force penetration; or had been made to receive oral sex.
Other estimates have run even higher. A Department of Justice report found that 3 percent of men, or one in 33, had been raped. Some experts believe that one in six men have experienced unwanted sexual contact of some kind as minors."

We act like it doesn't happen to men or something because somehow they're immune or something. One expert points out that we have a cultural blind spot: we acknowledged that male children can be abused sexually, but when they cross over into adulthood, we have trouble carrying over the perspective. Not only that, but there are some people out there who believe that a man cannot be the victim of a woman when it comes to rape.

I, as a woman, think that if we want to acknowledge that a woman can survive and thrive in a male-dominated workplace, if we want to acknowledge that a woman can be dominant in the bedroom, we also have to acknowledge that women are capable of acts just as heinous as any man –sometimes even more heinous than what a man would do! Evil is not gender specific, and neither is rape.

All of those points made, I did extensive research to attempt to make this story more realistic. I'm still trying to rediscover my happy place . This is to make sure you're all aware that this will be graphic and tragic. I don't want anyone going into this unaware of those facts.

Dedication: I know I rarely take the time to make an actual dedication…
This story is for all of the rape survivors out there. You are strong, beautiful, precious, and important. You are not alone or forgotten. Here's to hoping that each of you may find or have found the strength to pick up the pieces and join the human race once more, because you are a precious part of it.

Reno:

My life changed in the blink of an eye at 3:30am Halloween morning. Well, more accurately, my life stopped dead in its tracks that morning.

My eyes flew open. I was suddenly wide awake in my bed as I gradually came to realize that I was not alone in my apartment. I restlessly searched the darkness for any clue as to who it was, but they kept expertly to the shadows for the time being.

Something felt off. My eyes chased the silhouette of my late night visitor, desperate to figure out who was in my apartment. I couldn't glimpse their face at all.

Suddenly, I could see a face in the bright moonlight. Stunned, I went slack.

It's all okay, I told myself. It's only her. Yet I had no luck convincing myself of that. I couldn't shake the ominous feeling, especially as her eyes traced my body and I couldn't read her gaze.

"You look so lovely like this," she cooed to me. "I always knew you would, Reno. So pretty with your scarlet hair splayed beneath you."

As she approached my bed, I tried to move away. Something was definitely wrong. She would never say that to me. She knew I had no interest in women.

"Now, now, love," she cooed out once more. "Stay still," she instructed, stroking my hair.

Too stunned to move, I did as she instructed.

How could this be her? She'd never shown any interest in me this way, because Gaia knew I would have discouraged it.

Her hand crept lower, then fisted in the blankets that covered me and lowered them slowly, teasingly. "Every inch of you is perfect," she crooned out, her hand ghosting over my skin.

Holy hell. How was I to get out of this mess? A man like me crying attempted rape would be utterly laughable. No one would believe me, not even the man I trusted to believe me no matter what. I couldn't shove her away or hurt her: equally, she could press the same charge, and no one would trust me over her.

Her hand wrapped around my bare cock and I hissed. Her hands were rough and weapon-calloused and I hated the way they felt on me.

"This part of you… beyond perfection," she whispered as she used her hand to coax me to arousal. "So beautiful."

I tried to fight by body's reaction to her hand: after all, it was a woman's hand and women had never stirred any interest in me. Yet all of my protests and reasons to suppress to not respond to the situation ultimately did little good: my body's betrayal was inevitable and I found myself hard in her hand. Nothing in my life had ever shamed me more than that, and in that moment, I couldn't come up with anything that would shame me more in this life time.

Without further ado, she artlessly climbed on top of me, straddling me and guiding my hardened member into her wet heat.

Here my mind and I protested in unison. "No!" I protested, trying to move away.

She slapped me across the face with more force than I ever thought her capable of. Yet she calmed instantly after her outburst. "Now, love. You'll love it," she cooed out.

It was as if it all suddenly processed in from the outer-reaches of my mind and my senses.

I was being raped.

By a woman.

Not just any woman: her. I'd called her friend, trusted her, even given her the key to my apartment at one point.

And she was raping me.

The realization sent me into a panic. I did my best to yank her off do me, roll her off of me, buck and toss her off of me… anyway I could imagine getting her off of me or that I thought for even the briefest instant might dislodge her. Yet she hung on for dear life, taking it all in stride like it was part of the act for her.

I was almost physically ill when I felt her inner wall clench tightly around me, her body working hard to illicit a response from mine. I wanted to weep when she wrapped her hand around my cock, the tip still inside her, and worked the aroused flesh until my orgasm was inevitable. Yet I still clung to some sort of odd hope that someone might save me. So when I came, the word on my lips was not her name, as she might have wished. It was the name of the one man I still hoped would save me, the one man I knew I could trust no matter what.

"Tseng!" I cried out, my soul screaming out for him to save me.

All that little unconscious defiance earned me was another harsh slap across the face. Once more, a preternatural calm followed her violent outburst.

"Thank you, lover. That was wonderful. Everything I'd dreamed and more," she told me.

She was lucky I didn't get ill then and there.

Then she leaned forward and kissed my lips, like we were some sort of lovers, before climbing off of me as though nothing had happened. As if she hadn't just used my own body against me. As though she hadn't just raped me.

I felt totally conquered, like all of my power had been taken from me in a single instant. Laying back in my bed just like that, I heard her leave my apartment. Hesitantly, I sat up.

I could still feel her on me. It was disgusting. I had to wash it off of me.

I stumbled out of my bed and into the bathroom. My stomach turned and I vomited all over the floor, but I didn't care. Instead of dealing with it, I stepped over it and into the shower. After turning the water on as hot as I could get it, I collapsed on the shower floor.

Why couldn't I move?

Why didn't anyone save me?

I'm not going to ask how anyone liked this portion, because while I believe that I've written it well, I understand that many of you (like myself) are busily trying to re-discover that happy place. This piece will be intense and tough for me to write, but hopefully it will be a worth-while piece... even if I am still trying to find my happy place .

So, in leiu of my normal comments at the end, tell me what you want to happen, who you want to rescue him/pick up the pieces, or how hard you want to kill the perpetrator... but if you don't want this to be the end, please review.
If I get no reviews for the first two chapters (I will publish the next one immediately after this one), I will take this piece down and let it die.