Whose Line is it Anyway Slash Archive

Juxtaposition
By Kalimyre
Rating: Oh, probably R for language and sexual situations.
Pairing: Ryan/Colin
Authors Notes: Okay, first of all, this is kind of a sequel/epilogue to my previous story, Riven. If you haven’t read that, this story will make absolutely no sense to you. Thanks to Kim and her marvelous archive, you can read Riven anytime you feel like it at: http://www.geocities.com/wlrps/riven1.html.
It was also Kim’s idea that I write an epilogue in the first place, and her idea to add something about plastic surgery removing scars. So, thanks to Kim! Thanks to Xfphile for the grammar beta and helpful suggestions. Also, many thanks to Darlene, who gave me great feedback and suggestions. The whole “Cain Statute” was her idea, and she wrote what the judge said. You’ll understand when you get there. I absolutely loved the poetic justice, and am very appreciative of her help.
Now, the story!

* * *

Ryan sat bolt upright in bed, shaking and gasping, and raised trembling hands to his face. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, moaning under his breath. “No... not again... no more... oh God, stop, make it stop...”

“Ryan?” Colin propped himself up on one elbow and put a hand on Ryan’s back. He could feel the taller man’s rapid breathing, and he stroked slowly, pulling Ryan closer.

“Col... God, it was... I...”

“Sshhh... just another nightmare, that’s all. C’mere Ry, it’s okay,” Colin murmured, gently tugging at Ryan’s arm and pulling him back down. Ryan curled on his side, burrowing against Colin’s neck and crying quietly, his chest hitching miserably. Colin stroked his hair, pressing light butterfly kisses against his forehead.

The nightmares didn’t come as often as they once had, but when they did come, they were very bad. In the year that had passed since their escape from Chris and his basement horror show, they’d both come a long way. Part of that was thanks to the therapy they had both gone through---that they were still going through, actually.

Ryan had a standing weekly appointment with his psychiatrist, a matronly woman named Jenny. Colin had seen her every week in the beginning, but as he recovered, his appointments went down to twice a month. Then there were the group sessions where he and Ryan could talk to each other under the supervision of David Spinner, a professional therapist and former rape victim himself.

Those sessions were often the hardest. Dave had the unique perspective of a male rape victim, and in some ways Colin felt shut out, especially when Ryan would explain in halting words why he had been so terrified of Colin right after they were released from the hospital. Colin would apologize over and over for the kisses he had given Ryan, and even when Ryan said he was forgiven, it was a long time before Colin could forgive himself.

The therapy helped, though, and so did the reassurance and support of all their friends. The complete acceptance that they showed had gone a long way toward restoring Ryan’s sense of self-worth. Just the fact that Ryan and Colin were sharing a bed said a lot about how much they had both recovered.

The sleeping together had started shortly after their escape, but it wasn’t about sex. There was no sex at all, not for nearly ten months. No, the sleeping was all about comfort and refuge after the nightmares. Colin could still remember the first time Ryan had called him in the middle of the night and asked if he could come over.

It was about a week after their tentative reconciliation, and they were slowly rebuilding their friendship. The therapy had already started, but they both had a long way to go. As Colin remembered, it was about two in the morning and he was awake, having just had another nightmare. He was huddling under the covers and trying to tell himself that calling Ryan would be a dumb idea when the phone rang. He jumped, his frayed nerves making his hands shake so badly that he nearly dropped the phone twice before getting it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Colin?” Ryan asked after a moment.

“Ryan! Hi!” Colin said, feeling his shoulders sag in relief. The nightmare that he’d just had involved Ryan being buried alive, and he could still see the way one hand had stuck up out of the ground, reaching for him, while he stood and watched helplessly, unable to move. Although he knew it had just been a dream, it felt amazingly good to hear Ryan’s voice.

“Hey... I, ah... I’m sorry to call you so late---“

“No Ry, don’t worry about it, I was up anyway. I’m glad you called,” Colin said quickly.

“You were up?”

“Uh... yeah.”

“Nightmare?” Ryan asked sympathetically.

“Yeah... why are you up?”

“Same thing,” Ryan replied, sounding sheepish. “I, uh... okay, this is going to sound stupid, but I... I wanted to make sure you were okay. I kinda thought... I mean, in the dream, you---“

“I understand,” Colin said. “I was actually thinking of calling you myself. Sometimes things that are silly during the day seem pretty logical at two in the morning, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Ryan replied, and they both fell silent for a moment.

“This is getting to be a habit, isn’t it?” Colin said wryly.

Ryan laughed shortly, nodding even though Colin couldn’t see him. He was sitting up in bed, holding a pillow against his chest and keeping his eyes closed, concentrating on the sound of Colin’s voice and trying to convince himself that it was real, that his best friend was safe, that they were both safe.

“Yeah, the phone company probably thinks we’re drug dealers or something, calling each other at all hours of the night,” Ryan said, trying to make light of things so he wouldn’t feel so childish. The truth was that he tended to call Colin up every time he had a nightmare, just as Colin tended to call him.

“You know... I...” Colin paused, sighing. “Um, never mind.”

“No, tell me, what?”

“Well... okay, here’s the thing. I know this is kinda dumb, but... I think I’d feel a hell of a lot better if I could see you. I mean, I know you’re fine, and all that, I *know* that, but... it’s hard to explain.”

Ryan smiled, glad that Colin had been the first one to say what they were both thinking. “You don’t have to explain,” Ryan said. “And... I know it’s the middle of the night, but do you think... maybe I could come over?”

“Yeah!” Colin said quickly, and then paused. “I mean... only if you want to. And I mean that, Ryan. Only if you really feel comfortable with it. I don’t want you doing something that you don’t feel good about just because you think it’s what I want.”

“Jeez, get over yourself already,” Ryan said teasingly. “You think my life revolves around what you want?”

Colin grinned, thinking wryly that not so long ago those words wouldn’t have been a joke. “Okay then, big bird, come on over. I’ll be here.”

So Ryan had come over, and they’d spent a long time sitting on the couch while Ryan slowly got comfortable with touching Colin. Colin himself was wary of just what he could do with Ryan, still scared to death of making another mistake. But gradually, they had curled together, and ended up falling asleep on the couch. Oddly enough, despite the rather uncomfortable positions they had both gotten several solid hours of sleep, uninterrupted by nightmares.

That was the first time of voluntarily sleeping together. The next night, when Colin woke up from a nightmare and broke down and called Ryan, he had gone over to Ryan’s place. They knocked out curled together in Ryan’s oversized recliner. It took a couple weeks of sleeping on each other’s couches before Ryan agreed to join Colin in bed. Ironically, it was actually Ryan who had to push Colin into accepting the shared bed arrangement, because Colin was so afraid of doing something that the other man wasn’t ready for.

It happened one night on Colin’s couch, at about three in the morning. Ryan had called that time, and he’d arrived about thirty minutes earlier. They had immediately curled together on the couch---a lot of their hesitation had evaporated over the last couple weeks. Colin had one of those corner sectional type couches, long enough for him to lay down with his head on the arm rest and for Ryan to lie against him, his head pillowed on Colin’s chest. Colin was nearly asleep when Ryan spoke.

“You know, this is silly.”

“What is?” Colin murmured, cracking his eyes open for a moment before letting them drift lazily shut again.

“Why are we on the couch?” Ryan asked, looking up at the ceiling. He could feel the muscles in Colin’s stomach tense beneath him.

“Uh... well, I thought it was because we slept better this way. But if you don’t want to do this, then don’t. I don’t want you doing anything that---“

“Anything that I don’t feel comfortable with, yes, I know,” Ryan finished, smiling slightly.

“Right,” Colin said. “So... does that mean you don’t want to be here like this?”

Ryan sighed, turning his head slightly against Colin’s chest. “I... I just thought it was kind of silly that we always sleep on the couch. I mean, it’s killing my back, I’ve just gotta tell you that. And... well, hell, if we’re going to sleep together, why don’t we just use the bed?”

Colin paused uncertainly. “Ryan... I thought you didn’t think like that anymore. You know you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m not talking about... that. I’m just talking about sleeping. Like we’re doing now, like we’ve been doing for the past two weeks, just in a bed instead of on the couch. It’s not such a big change.”

“Well... I guess not. It’s just...” Colin paused, trying to think. If it wasn’t really such a big change, then why did it feel that way? “It’s like as long as we were just sleeping on the couch, I could tell myself that you just came over and we sat together to calm down after a nightmare, and accidentally fell asleep. It’s not... planned. It’s not like we’re... I don’t know...”

“Look, all I’m saying is that we’re making this harder than it has to be. I mean, every night, I call you or you call me and we meet up and sleep on a couch. Why don’t we just skip the bullshit? Instead of waiting for some nightmare at two in the morning, why don’t we just start the night out together?”

“Are you... just what are you suggesting here?” Colin asked.

“I’m suggesting sharing a bed. Not... anything else. Just for sleeping.”

Colin sighed. It sounded like a damn good idea to him, but he couldn’t be sure that Ryan was ready for that kind of thing. “Ryan, it’s only been a month since... since we got out. And I know that we’re doing the therapy and all that, but... doesn’t the fact that we still have these nightmares say that we’re not really recovered yet? And if you try to do something too fast, before you’re ready, what if that messes you up? What if...” What if it makes you afraid of me again? What if we lose even the small amount of closeness and trust that we’ve managed to build?

“Colin... Okay, I’m going to put this very simply. I don’t want to drive over here at two in the morning still shaking from a fucking nightmare. I don’t want to wake up with a sore back from trying to find a comfortable position with you on the couch. And I don’t want you to worry so damn much. I *know* I’m not... ready for some things, but I’m ready for this. Trust me.”

“I... all right. If you’re sure,” Colin said quietly, and one of his hands found its way into Ryan’s hair for a moment. “Are you... does this mean that we’re moving in together?”

“Yeah... I guess it does.”

So Ryan had moved some of his things into Colin’s house. They chose Colin’s place mostly because Ryan still didn’t feel very safe in his own house. They both assured each other that the living arrangement was purely temporary. Just until the nightmares tapered off.

Ryan’s possessions kept trickling over from his house as he thought of something that he wanted to have. Some clothes, or a few CDs, or that big wok when he felt like making some stir-fry. These things managed to find a place in Colin’s home, and soon community property started appearing. Things that were not Colin’s or Ryan’s, but belonged to both of them.

It took Colin a while to accept the fact that Ryan really was okay with sharing a bed with him. The first night they slept rather stiffly, afraid to touch, but over time, they grew closer together. When they went to one of those joint therapy sessions with Dave about three months after their escape from the basement, they had grown comfortable enough with touching each other that they didn’t even talk about it anymore. They were actually a little surprised when Dave noticed the way Ryan put an arm around Colin while they sat on the couch in his office.

“Ryan? Are you feeling more comfortable with physical closeness now?” Dave asked, raising an eyebrow and tapping his pen against his notepad. He was in his early thirties, but his small frame and elfin features made him look about fourteen. He was originally from Toronto, and Colin found his slight Canadian accent oddly comforting.

Ryan glanced at the arm around Colin as if he hadn’t even been aware that they were touching. Colin was settled comfortably into his side, his head lightly resting against Ryan’s shoulder. It was the posture that they usually took up when watching TV, and it was the one they naturally fell into. Colin looked back at him and stiffened slightly, suddenly feeling like he was doing something wrong.

“I... yeah. With Colin. We’re... actually, we’ve kinda moved in together,” Ryan said slowly, ducking his head a little. Even though he had told this man all the details of his experience with Chris, he felt a little embarrassed about the prospect of admitting he was sharing a bed with another man.

“Oh?” Dave asked, keeping his voice completely neutral. It was a favorite technique of his---the calmly leading question followed by the pregnant pause.

Colin spoke up to fill the gap, as he usually did. “Um, I just want you to know that Ryan insisted he was ready. I didn’t want to, because I was worried about it being too fast for him, but we were kinda sleeping together already, just on couches, you know, and when he said it seemed silly, well he was right. So I thought, since he said he was ready, and he wanted to do it, I---“

“Easy, Colin. I didn’t say it was wrong. I think it’s actually very good,” Dave said soothingly. “Both of you need to relearn your comfort zones, and your ability to let people touch you. Especially you, Ryan. Having someone you feel close to around all the time is a very good way for you to slowly adjust to having strangers get into your personal space and touching you.”

“Yeah... I’m still having some trouble with that,” Ryan replied. “The other day Col and I went out for a walk and this guy came up to me at the park and wanted my autograph. He tried to put an arm around my shoulders so his friend could take our picture, and I... I kinda freaked out a little bit.”

Ryan shrugged sheepishly, and Colin gave him a sympathetic look. He had seen the rising panic in Ryan’s eyes when that pushy fan had gotten a little too close, and had quickly separated them. Once there was some air between them, Ryan had calmed down enough to sign the autograph and get out of there without doing anything that he would be embarrassed about later.

“That’s normal, Ryan. And don’t be afraid to tell people to back off. You have every right to your space.” Dave turned to Colin, and said, “That goes for you too.”

Colin nodded, and Ryan tightened his arm around his friend’s shoulders a little, giving him a quick smile. “Before you ask, Col, you’re not invading my space,” Ryan said. Colin laughed shortly, knowing that he must be getting predictable in his incessant worry over Ryan.

“Well good,” he replied. “You’re not invading mine either, okay?”

Ryan nodded, and Dave wrote something in his notepad. “I’m very glad to see this level of easy conversation and closeness between you two. Colin, do you feel that you’re starting to overcome some of your guilt?”

Colin sighed, staring into his lap. “I don’t know. Sometimes I don’t think about it, but... when Ryan has nightmares, and he tells me what that bastard did to him, I hate myself for not stopping it. For not getting there sooner.”

“Colin... there was nothing you could have done. And you *did* get me out of there. You got us both out of there.”

“I know, I know. I’m just... I’m so sorry, Ryan. For being the one they used to force you to cooperate, and for screwing up so badly after we did get out of there. I still can’t believe I fucking kissed you. I’ve done some stupid things in my life, but that has to top the list. I mean, of all the times to do that, I just---“

“That’s enough,” Dave interrupted, putting a hand up to stop Colin. “Now, I know you still have a lot of guilt over that, but you need to accept that Ryan has forgiven you, and that it was just a mistake. You were never deliberately trying to hurt Ryan. What you did, you did out of a desperate wish to help him.”

Colin shrugged, still staring down, and Ryan squeezed him a little tighter. “I know you meant well, Col,” Ryan whispered to him, letting their foreheads touch for a moment. Colin smiled up at him, swallowing a little.

“Well, overcoming that guilt will take time,” Dave said briskly. “Now, as I understand what you’ve told me, you two are actually sharing a bed now?”

Ryan and Colin exchanged a quick look. “Yeah,” Ryan said, meeting Dave’s eyes for a moment before looking away. “It’s not... it’s just about not waking up alone. We both still have a lot of nightmares, and rather than call each other in the middle of the night, this way is simpler.”

“Mmm-hmm... And you’re both comfortable with this arrangement?”

“Yes,” they replied in unison, and they both giggled a little, feeling like teenagers telling their parents that they’ve been sleeping together.

“Okay, now I need to ask a few personal things here. I know you both may feel slightly awkward about discussing this, but I want you to know that what you’re doing, sharing the bed, is both perfectly natural and a very good way to help your recovery.” Dave paused and looked at both of them, making sure his point was taken. Ryan and Colin nodded at him, and he continued. “Now, you’ve made it clear that there has been no sexual contact, right?”

“Right.”

“Yeah. None.”

“Okay then. When you sleep together, do you touch? I’m talking about putting your arms around each other, spooning, that kind of thing. Not in a sexual way, of course.”

Colin shrugged, feeling a flush rise to his cheeks. Ryan coughed uncomfortably.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Dave said, smiling. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. During the month that you two were captives, you were severely deprived of physical contact. That is a need, just like water and food. Babies who are not held enough have been known to get sick, or actually die. Now both of you are restocking, just as you slept a lot more right after your escape to make up for the sleep deprivation. But this kind of deprivation takes a lot longer to recover from. Don’t be surprised if you continue to be unusually clingy for months to come.”

Unusually clingy. Well, that was about right. Part of it was the need to constantly reassure themselves that they were all right, that they were safe and alive and out of that damn hole. Maybe Dave had a point with that whole being deprived of human contact thing too. Either way, Colin and Ryan kept right on touching, curling up together every night, and getting closer.

It was exactly six months after their escape that Ryan kissed Colin. They had been joking around, telling each other it was an anniversary of sorts. Ryan made an amazing dinner, and Colin poured the champagne. It was later that evening, while they were snuggled together on the couch and working on their third bottle of champagne, that the conversation took a sudden turn, going from light and happy to something heavy.

“Cheers,” they said together, clinking their glasses. Just for laughs, and because they were both rather heavily buzzed, they linked arms and drank that way, like a toast at a wedding. They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment until it got too intense, and then they both looked away. Colin slumped back against Ryan, and the taller man wrapped his arm around Colin’s chest. Colin picked the big hand up, lightly tracing the palm with his fingertips, staring at it as if mesmerized.

“I’m sorry, Ryan,” he whispered.

“What? Why?”

“I just... I remember when I put your hand on me. When I tried to... to do what Chris said.”

Ryan stiffened slightly, his pleasantly relaxed mood evaporating. “Don’t. Okay? Just... this is supposed to be a happy night.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Quit saying that!” Ryan snapped, maybe a little more harshly than he’d meant to. Colin just hung his head, hunching his shoulders a little more.

“I’m sor---I can’t help it,” Colin said, catching himself before he apologized again. “I messed everything up so badly. Especially when I---“

“Don’t say it. Don’t apologize for kissing me again. I’m tired of hearing it. You know what? You need to get over this guilt thing,” Ryan said, and then squeezed Colin gently to take some of the sting out of his words. “I love ya, Col, but you’re a real pain in the ass sometimes.”

Despite himself, Colin laughed a little. “Yeah, I know. I just... I keep thinking that I really messed you up by doing that. And whenever you have nightmares, or get upset when someone tries to touch you, I can’t help wondering how much of it is my fault.”

Ryan sighed into Colin’s hair, ruffling it gently. “Okay, fine. You want to know the truth? Yeah, you messed me up. Yeah, for a while I was scared to death of you. But you know what? I’m okay with you now. I’m not afraid of you. Now do you believe me, or do I need to deck you again?”

Colin didn’t smile. “You were right to hit me. I thank God that you stopped me when you did. I was just so... I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Well of course you weren’t! After all the shit that we’d both just been through, neither of us was thinking right. Hell, I actually thought you were going to... to do what HE did. How fucked up is that?”

“Pretty fucked up,” Colin said quietly, still lightly tracing his fingers over Ryan’s palm. “Because that could never happen between us.”

“Colin? Why did that sound like a question?”

Colin abruptly dropped Ryan’s hand and stood up, taking two steps away and then stopping in the middle of the room, staring at the floor. Ryan stared at him for a moment, frowning, and then stood and came up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Colin didn’t turn, but he didn’t shrug the hand off either.

“Col?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Didn’t we just have a little discussion about that particular phrase?” Ryan asked, trying to get a smile out of his friend. It didn’t work.

“I... I can’t believe I’m doing this. The first two times, I could blame it on what those psychos did to us, on being desperate and confused, but now... what the hell is wrong with me?”

“What are you talking about?” Ryan asked.

“I... I... no. I can’t. I can’t do this to you, I can’t fuck up again, I have to...”

“Colin... tell me.”

Colin sighed, and then turned around and met Ryan’s eyes. “I know it’s wrong. I know that I shouldn’t... I shouldn’t feel this way. But I... I want to kiss you again. I’ve wanted to for a while now. And I just can’t believe that I would feel that way, knowing what it would do to you. I can’t believe I would be so goddamn selfish.”

Ryan froze, his eyebrows raised and his mouth hanging open. Part of him had suspected that Colin felt this way. He hadn’t missed the stolen glances, the occasionally sensual touches, or the dreams that Colin woke up from with Ryan’s name on his lips and an obvious bulge in his shorts. So Colin’s admission didn’t really shock him all that much. What surprised him was his reaction to it---or lack thereof. He expected to be frightened, but he wasn’t. There was an odd kind of curling, tingling sensation running through his chest and something fluttering in his stomach, but it didn’t feel like fear.

He didn’t know what the hell it was, but... definitely not fear.

“You can’t help how you feel,” Ryan said after a long quiet moment.

“I should! I should be able to control myself better than this! I’m such a bastard sometimes, I swear. As if what Chris did to you wasn’t bad enough, as if what *I* did to you afterward wasn’t bad enough, I have to go and... and want you like that.”

“Colin... it’s okay. Really. I think...” I think I might feel the same way, Ryan thought, but didn’t say. Couldn’t say. The very idea of sex was still terrifying. Don’t, don’t, it’ll hurt, no...

“What?” Colin asked, tilting his head to meet Ryan’s eyes again. “What do you think?”

“I... I don’t know. This is...”

“God Ryan, you’re shaking. I’m so sorry, I never should have said anything, I---“

“Col, just shut up for a minute, okay? I... I need to think. Just gimme a minute, please.”

Colin nodded contritely, and Ryan stared at the floor, biting his lip and frowning. Colin managed to keep quiet for about two minutes before the silence became too much for him and he spoke again. “Look, just forget I said anything, okay? I shouldn’t have said it. I can see that it scared you, and that’s the last thing I want.”

Ryan looked up at him sharply. “I’m not scared of you, Colin. I’m... I’m really fucking confused right now, but I’m not scared.”

“You don’t have to say that. I can see that you are.”

“I am not!” Ryan insisted. “You know what? I’ll show you.”

Then he grabbed Colin’s face and kissed him firmly, almost violently. Colin was breathing rapidly, and he could feel Ryan doing the same, but he wasn’t sure why. Ryan’s hands were in his hair, increasing the pressure, pulling him close with a kind of possessive fierceness, and for a moment Colin let his eyes slip shut and responded, lost in Ryan’s taste and feel. Then he braced his hands against Ryan’s chest and pushed him, breaking the kiss with an audible pop.

“Ryan... don’t... you’re not ready,” Colin panted, wiping his face.

Ryan lifted a trembling hand to his lips and touched them gently, tracing their outline with his fingertips. He was staring at Colin with an intense, unreadable look on his face. Then he nodded slowly.

“You’re right.”

“What?” Colin asked, still trying to catch his breath.

“You’re right. I’m not ready. But...”

“But what?”

Ryan sighed, trying to gather his thoughts. Colin managed to stay quiet this time, and after a long pause Ryan spoke again.

“I... I know the answer now.”

“To what?”

“Jenny asked me a question last week,” Ryan said, referring to his therapist. “We were talking about... you know. About sex. And she asked me if I felt ready to have that kind of relationship with anyone, and I said no. I know I’m not. God, even the thought of it...” Ryan shuddered, rubbing a hand across his stomach and swallowing.

“I know,” Colin said softly.

“Yeah. So anyway, I said I wasn’t ready, and she asked me if I thought I ever would be ready. And I told her I didn’t know. She said I had to ask myself this question: Do I want to spend the rest of my life alone? Can I live with never having that kind of physical relationship with anyone ever again?”

“What did you tell her?” Colin asked, leaning forward slightly and staring at Ryan as if the answer was vitally important to him. Possibly because it was.

“I told her I didn’t know. But... now I think I do. The answer is no, I don’t want to be alone all my life. I can’t live with never having that closeness again. With never making love again. I’m not... I can’t do it now, but someday, I want to be able to do that again. And when I do...”

“Yes?” Colin asked, putting a tentative hand on Ryan’s shoulder.

“When I do... I think I want it to be with you.”

Colin’s eyes widened. “Ryan... don’t say that if you don’t mean it. I’m serious. This... this isn’t a game.”

“I’m not playing. I mean it.”

Then Ryan opened his arms, and Colin was unable to resist the invitation. He pressed his face into Ryan’s shoulder, closing his eyes and taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“Ryan, tell me you’re not just saying that because you think it’s what I want to hear,” he murmured into the taller man’s neck.

“I meant what I said, Col. But...”

“But what?” Colin asked, feeling his stomach tighten. He stiffened in Ryan’s arms, and the taller man made a shushing noise into his hair, stroking his back.

“But it could be a long time, that’s all. I hope you can be patient that long.”

“For you, Ryan? Anything. You’re worth the wait.”

And that was the beginning of the physical aspect of their relationship. It was nearly a month before they even kissed again, and even that was hesitant and shaky. Ryan found that he felt better when Colin simply closed his eyes and sat still, waiting for him to approach and make the first contact. Then Colin would respond, but gently, passively, without bringing his arms up. Letting Ryan set the pace.

After about a week of just doing that, slowly and carefully, Ryan felt comfortable enough to allow Colin to kiss him. Colin worried constantly that Ryan was pushing himself too fast, but Ryan insisted that he wanted this. That he wanted to get past this fear and be able to enjoy a loving relationship again. A big part of it was his need to get the influence of Chris out of his mind.

Ryan realized that he was pushing too fast the first time he and Colin tried to make love. He was scared---badly scared---but he tried to hide it, insisting that he was fine. They were lying in bed together, covered only with a couple sheets, and they had been kissing for several minutes. Ryan felt safe with the kissing, as long as it didn’t involve any other kind of touching. But he got impatient, and pushed things to the next level, putting a hand on Colin’s waist and pulling him close. He was startled to discover that Colin was hard, apparently as a result of the kissing, and that was when the fear began circling in his mind, like a small animal with big claws trying to get out of a cage.

“Ryan... what are you doing?” Colin asked, trying to edge away.

“I’m okay. I just wanted to go to the next step. I mean, I like the kissing, I feel good with it, so I’m ready for more.” Ryan tried to put as much confidence in his voice as possible. Even if he wasn’t fine, he was stubbornly determined to go through with it.

Colin’s eyes narrowed and he looked Ryan over carefully. “I don’t think you’re ready, Ry. You’re shaking.”

“So? I’m a little nervous, yeah, but that’s just because I’ve never been with a man before. Well... you know. Not willingly.”

“I know. But that’s not it. You’re... I don’t want you to be scared. And you are, I can see it. We can wait, Ryan. Wait until you really feel ready.”

“I’m ready now! You worry too much. You’re just too afraid of pushing me to realize that I’m okay now. I’m over it.”

Colin raised his eyebrows. “Over it? You know, I really doubt that. And yeah, maybe I worry too much, but that’s because I’m scared to death of ruining what we have. What we’ve worked so hard for. I don’t want to lose you just because we got impatient.”

“You won’t lose me. Look, trust me, Colin. I’m telling you that I’m ready for this. Just... slow, okay? Be... be gentle.” Ryan’s voice shook slightly at the end, and Colin frowned. He still didn’t think Ryan was ready, but he couldn’t deny that he wanted to do this. And maybe a little fear the first time was natural. Maybe if he just went slowly, like Ryan said, it would be all right.

Against his better judgment, Colin reached out and ran his hand down Ryan’s bare back, lightly tracing his spine with his fingertips. At the same time he leaned in for another gentle kiss, teasing Ryan’s lips with his tongue. He felt the taller man shiver slightly, but other than that he seemed fine, and Colin scooted his body closer until their chests were touching. He pressed his hand against Ryan’s back, holding him tightly as he deepened the kiss. Colin could feel Ryan’s belly pressing against his erection, and he couldn’t resist rubbing up against the smooth skin. His breathing was quickening, and he brought his other arm around to hold onto Ryan, still kissing him gently.

Ryan was losing the battle with the little panic animal running around in his head. He kept shoving it back, telling himself that he was ready, dammit! But it wouldn’t go. Colin was moving slowly, being gentle, but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t so much what he was doing that scared Ryan, it was the idea of what he was *going* to do. He was going to... to touch him like... no. Oh God, no.

“Stop it!” Ryan cried, suddenly shoving Colin away. He sat up, clutching the sheets around himself and shuddering violently.

“Ryan---“

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t, I just can’t, it’ll hurt, Colin, it’ll hurt, I can’t...” Ryan burst into tears, curling his knees to his chest and burying his face in his hands. Colin reached for him automatically, wanting to soothe him, but froze before his hands could touch Ryan’s skin. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to touch him right now. And dammit, this was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to do this before Ryan was ready!

“Sshhh... it’s okay Ryan... easy now, it’s okay, nothing’s gonna happen. You don’t have to do anything,” Colin said, still not touching the other man. Ryan’s hands fell away from his face, and he turned to look at Colin, his eyes wide and pleading. Colin opened his arms in mute invitation, and Ryan fell into them, crying and shaking helplessly, apologizing over and over again.

It was a long time before they tried it again.

Ryan was more ready the next time, and he let Colin get a little further before pulling back, begging him to stop. Colin stopped immediately and just held him, rocking him and murmuring soothing things. It was a very frustrating time for both of them. Some of those frustrations came out in one of their joint therapy sessions with Dave, about nine months after their escape from what Ryan called ‘the dungeon.’

“So how are things going with the physical aspect of the relationship?” Dave asked, giving his two patients a mild look. They were sitting on the couch as usual, but today there was no easy banter, and they weren’t touching. Dave was worried.

“We’re working on it,” Ryan said with a sigh. “I can’t... I can’t seem to relax enough to go through with it. Every time we even get close, I start to panic.” The frustration in his voice was obvious, and Colin nodded, frowning at his closed fists. Both men were tense, and they seemed to have trouble looking at each other.

“Mmm-hmm... And about how often are you trying this?”

“Every night,” they replied in unison, with identical discouraged looks.

“Ah. Okay, first of all, don’t. That’s much too often,” Dave said.

“But... we thought---“

“We thought that if we tried it a lot, we’d kind of wear down my fear of it,” Ryan finished.

“No, you’re only making things worse by pushing it so hard. It’s become a chore for you. I mean, look at you. You’re both tense, and you look tired. Have you been sleeping all right?”

Colin and Ryan looked at each other, and they both shook their heads. “The nightmares have been coming back,” Ryan said, and Colin nodded silently. The nightmares that had come every night right after they escaped had receded to maybe once a week once they started sleeping comfortably together, but now they were back up to every night.

“Uh-huh,” Dave said, nodding. “And when was the last time you touched for a non-sexual reason? Just to show affection, or for comfort, like you were before?”

Ryan shrugged, and Colin sighed, looking wistful.

“I’ll take that to mean it’s been a while. All right, here’s what I’d like you to do. First of all, stop trying to force the issue. Give it some time off---say a month. And in that time, concentrate on just being happy together. Make touching something you enjoy again, instead of something you have to do. In fact, let’s start right now. What do you say?”

“What do you mean?” Colin asked, lifting his head to gaze at Dave quizzically.

“Well, I notice that you’re not touching. What happened to the cute couple that was in here a few months ago? The one that touched so naturally and comfortably that they didn’t even realize they were doing it?”

Ryan grinned sheepishly and Colin returned the look. They slid together, Ryan letting his arm drape around Colin’s shoulders while the shorter man sighed happily and settled against Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan’s eyes slipped shut and he pulled Colin close, his cheek resting against the top of the other man’s head. They both relaxed visibly, their shoulders dropping from the hard line they had been set in.

“There we go. That feels better, doesn’t it?” Dave asked, smiling at them.

“Mmm-hmm,” Colin murmured, slumping against Ryan, his eyes half-lidded. He looked like he was about to fall asleep, and Ryan didn’t seem far behind. He was rubbing his cheek lightly against Colin’s hair, making pleased murmurs in his throat. It felt so good to have the reassuring contact and know that there was no pressure to go any further.

“Now, I want you to concentrate on this kind of touching for a while. Give yourselves at least a month before you try anything sexual again. And if, at the end of that month, you still don’t feel comfortable with it, don’t push it. Make sure you take plenty of time to remind each other *why* you chose to do this.”

Colin and Ryan thanked Dave for his help, and went home in a much better mood than they had started the day with. It was only about two in the afternoon, but they went upstairs and into bed anyway, catching a long afternoon nap curled together with smiles on their faces.

* * *

Part 2

* * *

The month passed easily and comfortably, and by the last week, they were kissing again. Not out of obligation, but because they actually *wanted* to. Ryan was starting to feel the first actual stirrings of desire when they touched, and it was almost a struggle to keep things at the kissing level. Almost ten months had passed since his time in the ‘dungeon,’ and he finally felt ready.

When their month-long hiatus was over, Colin and Ryan made love for the first time. Colin was gentle, and slow, and Ryan was hesitant and frightened, but they got through it. They ended up settling on doing it in Colin’s oversize Jacuzzi tub, bringing each other off with their hands while they kissed gently. It was incredibly hard to do, but it was a milestone nonetheless. The next time was easier. They made sure to have plenty of non-sexual contact as well between times, and the frustration that had marked their earlier efforts didn’t return.

The first few times, it was just about getting through it, but then there was a time when it actually felt good. Then, later, there was a time when it felt *great.*

Now, a year after their escape, they were making love for the sheer joy of it. They kept it light---it was about touching and moving slowly and making sure that they were both comfortable and happy. There was no penetration---neither of them was ready for that. Ryan still shuddered and felt sick at the very thought of something entering him that way, and Colin refused to push him.

They had tried it once the other way, with Colin ‘catching,’ if you get my drift, but that hadn’t worked either. As soon as Ryan’s hands got close, Colin had flashed on Benny touching him the same way while he was chained on the floor, and he’d pulled away, trembling and begging Ryan to stop. Ryan had, of course, and they spent that evening curled together, with Colin apologizing over and over and Ryan doing his best to be reassuring. Colin had gotten a firsthand lesson of just how Ryan had felt when his fear prevented him from doing something that he thought he had to do.

So they didn’t try that again, but they slowly grew comfortable with trading off with oral sex and using their hands---always gently, carefully. Every time, Colin made sure that Ryan was okay with it, moving so slowly and cautiously that Ryan would sometimes become impatient. The heat between them had grown to the point that Ryan would insist on moving more quickly, but Colin was still treating him like he was made of glass. That didn’t seem likely to change anytime soon.

The therapy was more about basic progress checks than anything deep, and the nightmares were few and far between. They did pop up occasionally though, like the one Ryan had just woken up from.

Colin rolled until he and Ryan were facing each other, and Ryan nuzzled into his neck, sniffling. Colin shushed him, murmuring reassuring nothings and stroking his back, feeling the familiar geography of scars. Today they were going to see about changing that.

“Okay?” Colin murmured, noticing that Ryan’s tears had tapered off and he was just laying still, his face still buried against the other man’s neck.

“Mmm-hmm,” Ryan replied sleepily, tightening his arms around his lover. “Was a bad one, though. That one where I have to watch when he... you know. When he hurts you like he hurt me.” Ryan shivered slightly, and Colin kissed his forehead again.

“I know. Wasn’t real. We’re safe now.”

Ryan nodded, taking a deep, shuddering breath. He kissed Colin’s neck lightly, and then with more pressure, letting his tongue dart out to tease the sensitive skin of Colin’s throat.

“Mmmm...” Colin murmured, tilting his head to give Ryan better access.

“You taste good.”

“Do I? I must, since you seem to taste me so often,” Colin replied, a smile curving his lips.

“Uh-huh... I guess some things improve with age.”

Colin whopped Ryan with a pillow, and Ryan sat up, grinning at him. “Don’t make me beat you down, old man. You know I’m the pillow king,” Ryan said, raising his eyebrows challengingly.

“Oh, really?” Colin shot back, dropping his jaw and giving Ryan his best ‘mortally offended’ expression. Ryan didn’t fall for it for a second, and gently bopped Colin over the head with his pillow. Colin snatched it out of his hands and gave him a quick whack across the stomach. When Ryan doubled over in mock pain, groaning sarcastically as if Colin had done something serious, Colin leaned up and kissed him on the tip of his nose.

Ryan’s hand immediately went to his nose as his eyes widened in surprise. A grin spread across his face. “Oh, it’s on now. You are SO toast.”

The teasing pillow fight quickly turned into a ridiculously cute kissing session. Ryan bopped Colin on the shoulder with his pillow, and Colin stuck his lower lip out, giving Ryan his best puppy dog look. “Owww... that wasn’t very nice,” he said pitifully, his eyes dancing with laughter.

“Oh? Well then let me just fix it up for you,” Ryan replied, and proceeded to kiss the shoulder. He quickly found his way back up Colin’s throat, and soon the pillows were forgotten.

Colin was kissing his way down Ryan’s chest while the taller man moaned impatiently and encouraged him to go faster when the alarm went off. They both paused, turning their heads to stare at the little clock radio in annoyance.

“Ignore it,” Ryan said, his voice rough and his breathing rapid.

“Can’t,” Colin replied, equally out of breath. “Your appointment with that doctor is today.”

“Dammit... can’t we just blow that off?”

“Ryan... this isn’t about wanting to finish this, is it?” Colin asked, tracing a hand down the taller man’s chest. “You’re nervous about this doctor thing.”

Ryan shrugged, looking away. “I dunno. Maybe I am. I mean, what if... what if there’s nothing they can do? What if I have to wear that bastard’s name on my back for the rest of my life?”

“Then I would love you anyway,” Colin said immediately, taking the other man’s hand. “And besides, plastic surgery can do amazing things. If they can remove tattoos and make Michael Jackson look like he does, I’m sure they can do something about the scars.”

Ryan smiled, slumping down on the bed and resting his head in Colin’s lap. “Hey, while I’m in there, what do you think about me getting rid of the old schnozz? Do a little of that rhinoplasty?” Ryan asked teasingly.

“Hell no,” Colin shot back. “You do that and I won’t be able to make fun of your nose on stage. I’ll be forced to resort to your tacky shoes.”

“Tacky? Who you callin’ tacky? I’ll have you know those shoes are *art!*”

“Uh-huh,” Colin drawled, raising an eyebrow. “C’mon then, Van Gogh, we’ve gotta be there in an hour.”

“Hey, aren’t you forgetting something?” Ryan asked, indicating the rather obvious tent he was pitching in his lap.

“I could never forget that, but we don’t have time.”

“Sure we do.”

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” Colin asked, smiling fondly down at his lover.

“Mmm... and whose fault is that? If you weren’t so damn good, I wouldn’t want it so often.”

Colin puffed visibly, sticking his chest out and nodding like a man accepting an award. “Well, I’m glad you’ve finally admitted that I’m better.”

“Whoa, I never said that. You’re good... I’m better.”

Colin raised an eyebrow and slid down on the bed so that he was facing the other man. He leaned in for a long kiss, his hand slipping the sheet off Ryan’s bare body and coming to rest on his belly, just above his groin. Ryan pushed up into the hand, closing his eyes for a moment and smiling.

“Hey Ry, you think you’re better? Prove it.”

* * *

They got to the doctor’s office a little late. This actually worked out well, because the doctor was running late himself, and they arrived just as he became available for them. Colin and Ryan were quickly ushered into a private office, where they were met by Doctor Herman James. He shook both their hands and gestured for them to take seats.

“So what can I do for you today?” he asked briskly.

Colin nodded to Ryan, who shot him a nervous look and began. “Well, we wanted to know about possible scar removal. Um... for me.”

The doctor nodded, rubbing his hands together. “Okay, and what kind of scars are we talking about here?”

“Um...” Ryan paused, looking at the floor. Colin gave him a sidelong look, and then jumped in to fill the silent gap.

“He was in an... accident, of sorts. He got some pretty nasty cuts.”

Doctor James gave them an odd look, glancing back and forth for a moment before shrugging and going on. “Okay, well cuts are usually pretty easy to deal with. We use a laser technique. Today, several new laser techniques are available to treat a wide variety of scars and stretch marks. The laser’s energy stimulates the skin under the scar and causes the fibroblasts in the skin to begin to divide again. It also stimulates the production of collagen. This thickens the skin under the scar until it closely resembles the surrounding normal skin.”

Colin and Ryan nodded as if that hadn’t just gone completely over their heads. The doctor’s brisk, professional tone seemed to reassure Ryan, and he relaxed subtly, his hands unrolling and lying quietly in his lap.

“Now, I can’t promise to completely erase any scars, but I can probably make them considerably less visible. Does this sound like something you’d be interested in?”

Ryan nodded quickly, giving the doctor a small smile.

“Right. Now, you do understand that this is a cosmetic procedure, and is considered elective surgery? Medical insurance will not pay for this,” the doctor said, giving Ryan a pointed look.

“Oh, that’s okay. Money isn’t an issue here,” Ryan quickly assured him, and Colin smiled into his palm. The doctor obviously didn’t recognize them.

“Good. Now, I’ll just need to take a look at these scars so I can make you an appointment and work out a schedule of treatment.”

Ryan stiffened, looking quickly at Colin. The doctor misunderstood the gesture and said, “Your friend can wait outside, if that’s---“

“No!” Ryan snapped, and then paused, realizing how he had sounded. “I mean... I’d really rather he stayed here.”

“Okay,” the doctor said slowly, giving them another confused look. “So, where are these scars localized?”

“Um... they’re mostly on my back. Some on my ribs and I think a few on my legs too.”

“All right, well we will be doing one area at a time. You’d like us to start with your back?”

“Yes,” Ryan replied. “That’s... those are the worst ones. Those are the ones I really want to get rid of.”

“Well then, that’s where I’ll begin. If you could just go ahead and remove your shirt so I could get an idea of what we’re dealing with here...” Doctor James let his voice trail off expectantly.

Ryan sat still for a few seconds before sighing and rising to his feet, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. His hands were shaking, and he had trouble unfastening them. Colin rose and stood in front of him, taking Ryan’s hands in his own and holding them for a moment.

“You don’t have to if you don’t feel good about it, Ry. We can do this later.”

“No. I want those damn marks off me. I just... stupid buttons...” Ryan mumbled, tugging impatiently at the shirt. Colin gently pushed his hands away and began undoing the buttons himself while the doctor watched them, one eyebrow raised in confusion.

“You sure?” Colin asked, letting his hands rest on Ryan’s shoulders once the shirt was completely unbuttoned. Ryan nodded, lifting his chin. Colin gave him a quick kiss, not caring if the doctor was watching, and then he gently pushed the shirt off Ryan’s shoulders. Ryan turned so that the doctor got the full view. The redness of the scars had faded over time, but the name carved in his back was still quite clear, the skin puckered in white, ragged lines.

“Oh... I, ah... how on earth did that happen?” Doctor James asked, his jaw dropping. “That... that’s not an accident.”

“No, it wasn’t an accident. Look, does it really matter how it happened?” Colin asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Um... no, of course not. I’m sorry. Let me just...” The doctor rose to his feet and came around the desk, approaching Ryan. The taller man tensed, his shoulders rising as a forced calm came over his face. The doctor peered closely at the network of scars marring Ryan’s otherwise smooth skin, and he put one hand on his back, tracing one of the deeper cuts.

Ryan pulled in a quick breath, shying away from the touch. The doctor moved to follow him, but Colin placed himself between the other two men and straightened to his full height, looking down on the doctor in a way that was almost threatening. His tendency to be a little overprotective of Ryan had faded slightly in the past year, but like the scars, it was still perfectly visible if you looked closely.

“Do you really need to touch him?” Colin asked, folding his arms forbiddingly.

“Um... well, yes, actually. Those scars... those are not just cuts. Cuts don’t heal that way. They almost look like burns, but I’ve never seen a burn in a straight line like that. What caused these?”

“Look, I don’t think that’s really any of your business,” Colin snapped, but Ryan put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back slightly.

“It’s okay, Col. If knowing what caused them will make them easier to get rid of, then I can tell him. And don’t worry about him touching me. If it’s necessary, I can handle it.” Ryan’s trembling voice put lie to the words, but Colin recognized the stubborn look on his face all too well.

Colin moved aside, and the doctor put his hand on Ryan’s back again, shooting a slightly nervous glance in Colin’s direction when he did. Colin merely cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, giving the doctor a look that said: ‘I’m watching you, buddy, so you better not try anything.’

“Jeez Col, you look like you’re about to bite him. Take it easy,” Ryan said, giving his friend a little smile. Colin shrugged, smiling back, but he didn’t take his eyes off the doctor for a second.

“So, what exactly happened to make these cuts?” the doctor asked, frowning as he examined Ryan’s skin.

“Uh... they were made by a razor blade that had been heated in a flame. That’s why they look like burns, but in straight lines.” Ryan kept his voice carefully neutral, but Colin could see the way his hands curled into fists at his sides for a moment before he forced them to relax again.

“What? Didn’t that hurt?”

“Ye-es,” Ryan replied slowly, as if it was an incredibly stupid question.

“Then why... oh. You, ah... this wasn’t a voluntary procedure, was it?”

Ryan laughed hollowly. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

“Ah. All right then. Um, this makes things a bit trickier, with the whole burn aspect, but I think the laser technique will help. I’m assuming that you want the, ah... the name removed first?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“All right.” The doctor ran his fingertips over the name carved in Ryan’s back one more time before turning and pulling a calendar off his desk. Ryan relaxed visibly, his shoulders dropping back to their normal curve as the doctor moved away. “This will take a course of treatments, but I’ll schedule the first one for our next available time, which is... next week.”

Colin brought his shirt, draping it over his shoulders and holding it in place while Ryan ran his arms through the sleeves. Ryan let him refasten the buttons, because his hands were still trembling and he didn’t want to stand there and fumble with them in front of the doctor. Once the shirt was back on, Colin gave the taller man a quick hug, which Ryan returned wholeheartedly.

The doctor cleared his throat, and the two men separated reluctantly, Ryan looking at the floor sheepishly while Colin simply raised his eyebrows and gave the doctor a rather chilly look. He knew the man was just doing his job, that that didn’t change the fact that Ryan was still shaking because of the doctor getting close to him and touching him while his shirt was off.

“Is next Friday all right for you?” Doctor James asked, choosing not to comment on the look Colin was giving him. He also avoided meeting Colin’s eyes, a fact that would have amused the Canadian if he weren’t still irritated with the man for scaring Ryan.

“That would be fine. Is there... should I do something to get ready? Like not eat beforehand or something?”

“No, this is a simple, non-invasive procedure. It’s also relatively painless.”

Ryan paused. “Relatively? What does that mean?”

“Well... it means that getting rid of those scars will hurt a lot less than getting them did.” The doctor smiled. Colin and Ryan did not. “Uh... I’m told that it causes a mild sensation of heat, and the skin is tender for a few days afterward. Not much more than a sunburn. That’s all.”

“All right,” Ryan said, and Colin nodded, putting an arm around his waist.

“Are we done?” Colin asked impatiently. Some part of his mind realized that he was being hostile for no good reason, but he didn’t care. This man had invaded Ryan’s personal space and asked him questions that brought up bad memories, and Ryan was probably going to have nightmares tonight because of it. It wasn’t really Doctor James’s fault, but Colin was mad at him anyway.

“Uh, yes. Just come in at ten Friday morning. The first treatment will take about half an hour.”

“Fine. Thanks.”

The doctor nodded weakly, still giving Colin the occasional nervous glance, and the two men left. As soon as they got outside, Ryan turned his face up into the sunshine and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Colin frowned at him until Ryan smiled slightly.

“Quit looking so worried,” he said without opening his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Good,” Colin said, tightening the arm around Ryan’s waist. “And see, they can get rid of those scars. Pretty soon there won’t be a mark on you.”

Ryan smiled at him as they walked toward the car, still hip to hip. “You know, you got just a tad overprotective in there.”

“Yeah, well, what can I say? You looked scared. And I hate that.”

“I know. And I *was* scared. Which is dumb, since all that doctor was doing was looking me over. It’s not like he was going to do anything.” Ryan scuffed his shoe along the parking lot asphalt, scowling at the ground.

“Hey, remember what Dave said. That’s normal. Just like me being a mother hen is normal.”

“But Col, you were always a mother hen. Even before all this,” Ryan said, smirking.

“Oh, shut up. I was not.”

“Uh-huh...” Ryan said skeptically. “Sure you weren’t. Right.”

They got in the car, grinned at each other, and went home.

* * *

By the time Chris’s sentencing hearing came up, most of Ryan’s scars were gone. Some of the deeper cuts were still visible, but only when he tanned, or when he first got out of the shower and his skin was still pink from the hot water. Those few lines on his skin remained white no matter what. The fact that those lines had once spelled a name was undetectable.

Colin didn’t want to go to the hearing. He was sure that seeing Chris again would only upset Ryan for no good reason. With the proliferation of physical evidence, Ryan’s testimony had not been necessary at the trial. There was the ballistics that showed the bullet that killed Jack had been fired from Chris’s gun. The graphic pictures that showed Chris cutting and raping Ryan in the basement. The DNA that he had left inside of Ryan, which the doctors had found and preserved in the hospital. They had Colin and Ryan’s sworn statements, and the testimony of Jenny, their therapist, who provided her expert opinion that they had indeed been held against their will.

Chris had been easily convicted of first-degree rape, kidnapping, assault, and murder. He actually tried to get out of the first-degree murder charge, saying he hadn’t meant to shoot Jack; the bullet was intended for Colin. Because first degree murder required premeditation and he hadn’t intended to hit Jack, his lawyer tried to get the charge lowered to manslaughter. The prosecutor had successfully argued that Chris had intended to kill *someone,* and that made him guilty, even if the victim wasn’t the one he had planned on. Then the pictures of Chris viciously raping and cutting Ryan had been passed around. They hadn’t gone over well with the jury. They returned a unanimous guilty verdict in less than an hour.

There was really no need for Ryan to be there at the sentencing hearing. Chris was going to be in jail for the rest of his life. If the state had capital punishment, he would have undoubtedly drawn the death penalty. The police had traced the disappearance of several other people back to that basement, and although their bodies had not been found, the consensus was that Chris had killed them. The particularly cold and violent nature of his crimes, coupled with his complete lack of remorse had earned him the maximum penalty that the law allowed. The hearing was merely a formality.

Colin had told these things to Ryan over and over, but he had insisted on going. He wanted to see Chris again. Wanted to look him in the eye and tell him that he had failed.

So now they were in the car, because in the end Ryan had said he was going with or without Colin, and Colin refused to let him go alone. Colin kept sighing and shooting worried, frustrated looks at Ryan, who simply ignored them and kept driving.

“Ryan...”

“Don’t.”

“I just think you’re setting yourself up for a lot of stress for no reason,” Colin insisted.

“Col... I have to know. I have to see him and find out if I can stand up to him. I have to see if he still scares me. I... it’s like, in my head, he’s this huge monster. I need to see him for how he really is. I need to know that he’s just a man, and that’s all he ever was.”

Colin nodded slowly. He reached out and took Ryan’s hand, squeezing it gently. Ryan gave him a quick smile and squeezed back. “Okay, Ry. If that’s what you have to do, then I’m behind you.”

Ryan looked at him for a moment, then back at the road. “I love you. Have I mentioned that lately?”

“I think you might have,” Colin said, grinning at the other man.

They rode the rest of the way to the courthouse in silence. Colin was impressed with the size of the place as the walked in. It was an old building, all marble and big sweeping staircases. There were several courtrooms, but Ryan knew where he was going. The prosecuting attorney had kept them both informed of how the case was progressing.

They slipped into the back of the room and grabbed a seat on one of the benches. Colin was reminded of church pews, minus the little pockets in the back to hold hymnals. They were early, and in front of them someone they didn’t know was being sentenced to a term of eight and a third to twenty years for manslaughter. Colin found himself becoming interested despite his misgivings about being here. The man had apparently struck and killed three people while drunk driving, but because of the state’s laws on driving under the influence, it was considered an accident and not murder.

“That’s fucked up,” Ryan murmured out of the side of his mouth. “Eight years for killing three people?”

“Yeah,” Colin replied, shaking his head. When the sentence was handed down, the defendant actually had the nerve to protest that it was too long. A man with hollow eyes sitting in the court leapt to his feet and started shouting obscenities at the defendant. Colin gathered that he was the father of one of the people who had been killed. The bailiffs escorted the shouting, struggling man from the room. Colin and Ryan watched him go.

“Some justice, huh?”

“Don’t worry,” Colin said. “Chris will get what’s coming to him.”

Ryan nodded. “He’d better.”

“Next case, number 15602, people versus Christopher Whitmore. Sentencing for one count murder in the first degree, one count rape in the first degree, two counts kidnapping, two counts assault,” the clerk called out in a bored voice. The drunk driver was escorted out the big doors in the side of the court, and Chris was brought in.

Ryan stiffened, his hands curling into tight fists. Chris looked just the same. He was dressed in a bright orange prison uniform with numbers on the chest, and his hands were cuffed behind his back with chains running from them to his ankle cuffs, but that same look of cold superiority graced his face. His gaze swept the courtroom, and his icy blue eyes quickly found Ryan.

“Ryan? You okay?” Colin whispered, looking quickly at his friend and then back at Chris. Ryan didn’t move, his eyes locked with Chris’s as they stared at each other across the room. Ryan was perfectly still, every muscle in his body frozen in place, except that Colin could see the muscles in his jaw working as he ground his teeth together.

Chris didn’t walk to his seat. He *sauntered.* He kept the eye contact with Ryan until he had to sit, and then he turned away, facing the judge. But just before he turned, he smiled sadistically and mouthed: ‘hi, pet.’ Ryan continued to stare at the back of his head, and Colin shook him gently, trying to reach him.

“Ryan? You want to go?”

“I want to kill him.”

Colin blinked. “What?”

“I want to fucking kill him. My God, I... I don’t think I’ve ever been so goddamn mad in my life. I want to run over there and beat the holy living shit out of him. I want to wrap that chain around his neck and watch him strangle. I want to hear him gagging, trying to breathe, just like I gagged when he had his fucking dick in my mouth. I want to kick him until he starts throwing up blood. I want... God, I...”

Ryan was shaking, his eyes wide and unblinking, his fists clenched so tight that his entire hands were turning white. He sat up slightly, and Colin put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back. He wasn’t sure if Ryan was actually going to attack that bastard, but he wasn’t about to take any chances. Not that Chris didn’t deserve it, but Colin didn’t want to see his best friend and lover going to jail for trying to kill that worthless little shit.

“Hold on, Ryan. Just... take some deep breaths. I know you’re fucking mad at him. I am too. I swear I’d love to see you do those things to him. I’d help you. But we can’t, Ry. Let the system work. He’s being punished.” Colin kept his voice pitched carefully low. So far their conversation hadn’t been overheard, and he wanted to keep it that way.

“Not enough. Nothing is enough,” Ryan snarled, his eyes narrowing.

“You’re right. But Ryan, please, calm down. *Please.* I don’t want to lose you.”

That got Ryan’s attention. “What? You won’t lose me.”

“I will if you go to jail. Which you will if you attack him in front of a room full of people. I know you want to hurt him, God, I want to hurt him too. I want another chance with that knife. I’d get something better than his leg, tell you that right now,” Colin hissed, glaring at the back of Chris’s head.

Ryan nodded and slowly settled back into the seat. His body still thrummed with tension though, and he barely heard the judge sentencing Chris to two consecutive life sentences, without the possibility of parole. Colin smiled grimly when he heard it. He wanted Chris to jump up and beg for mercy just to see the judge deny it, but Chris never flinched. He only shrugged as if the sentence meant nothing. That cool reaction only infuriated the two men even more. Colin felt like he would give anything to crack that shell.

“The defendant is allowed to make a statement at this time if he so chooses,” the defense attorney said tiredly. “He would like to address the court.”

The judge sighed and glanced at the clock. “All right, Mister Whitmore, but make it quick. We have a schedule to keep here.”

“Don’t you worry, your honor,” Chris replied, somehow making the title an insult. Ryan’s eyes flashed and he straightened a little more at the sound of that old, familiar voice. It still sounded smooth and cultured---like it should belong to a college professor and not a dangerous madman. Colin put a hand on his arm and squeezed tightly. He could feel Ryan’s shaking. He could feel his own shaking as well.

Chris rose to his feet and turned, facing Ryan and Colin again. He smiled slowly, baring his teeth in an expression that didn’t change his eyes at all. “I just want to say a few things to my... pet, there.”

Ryan shot to his feet, his fists clenched at his side. “Don’t you dare call me that! Don’t you fucking dare!”

Colin stood beside him, putting his hands on Ryan’s shoulders and holding him still. Ryan shook him off, but didn’t move toward Chris. He was breathing hard, speaking through clenched teeth. Chris only raised an eyebrow lazily, perfectly calm and unruffled.

“Tell me... pet... how does it feel to know that you’ll always be mine? I marked you for life. You will always bear my name.”

A strange smile crossed Ryan’s face. A lot of the tension drained from his body, and he cocked his head at Chris. The other man narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“What the hell are you smiling about?”

“That’s enough. This is ridiculous, your honor---“

“No... I’m curious,” the judge said, cutting the defense attorney off. “Why are you smiling?”

Ryan turned slowly, his hands going to his waist. He was dressed only in a t-shirt and jeans, a clothing choice that Colin had thought a bit odd when they left the house that morning. Now he understood the purpose behind it. Ryan slipped the shirt up, exposing his smooth, unmarked back.

Chris’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “That’s... that’s impossible. Where are they? You’re hiding them somehow,” he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. Ryan only smiled, turning slightly so that the light fell across his back, making it perfectly clear that the skin was free of any visible scars.

“No! You... no! You’re mine! You little shit, you can’t do that! You’re my pet! You’ll always be mine! You can’t... no!” Chris ran toward Ryan, but the bailiff caught him easily. His calm composure was gone. He was shouting at the top of his lungs, thrashing and kicking in an effort to reach Ryan. “Get back here! Get your ass over here right fucking now! I’m gonna... I’ll cut you again. You get over here! You’re MINE, do you hear me? Mine!”

The bailiff began dragging Chris away, and Ryan let his shirt slip back down, turning to face the screaming, struggling man. Colin smiled vindictively as he watched Chris lose control. Then Ryan’s hand was on his jaw, turning his head, pulling him close. Colin looked up at him, and understood. They kissed hard, passionately, right in front of Chris.

“No! NO! I... you can’t do that! You can never do it again! I broke you, ruined it for you. You should never be able to touch anyone like that! You can’t! I forbid it. Stop it! God damn you, you’re my PET!”

As the bailiff struggled to restrain Chris, the judge banged his gavel, demanding order. The murmuring of the audience tapered off gradually, and the bailiff managed to wrap his arm around Chris and silence him. To the surprise of both Ryan and Colin, the judge began to speak.

“Since it is within my jurisdiction to pronounce sentence, and since this court has yet to be adjourned, I believe that this outburst now requires that I amend my former ruling.” The entire courtroom was silent in the face of this departure from normal proceedings as the judge continued. Colin and Ryan exchanged a confused, speculative look, and edged a little closer together. Chris looked murderously at both of them, still jerking and twitching in the bailiff’s arms.

“As some of you are aware, yesterday at 10:00 AM Governor Gray Davis signed into law what has been called “The Cain Statute,” so named for the biblical character who committed the first murder. If you remember the story from the book of Genesis, God sentenced Cain for his crime, but also marked him so that everyone would know what he had done. He was not to be killed, but was doomed to wander in the wilderness for the rest of his life, cut off from society. A copy of the text of this mandate will be provided to both the prosecution and defense counsel following these proceedings, in light of what I am about to say.

“Now, Mr. Whitmore, you obviously will not be allowed to ‘wander’ anywhere, but this mandate does have some other similarities to the story. You see, this law allows for the prisoner to be ‘marked” with something like a tattoo, on a visible part of his body. Should he escape, this mark would immediately identify him to both the general population and law enforcement personnel as someone to be considered extremely dangerous. The police would be granted the authority to use any means necessary to apprehend such a person, and would also be authorized to use deadly force if required.

“As a means of supervising the behavior of said inmate while incarcerated, he would also be implanted with a computer chip. This state-of-the-art equipment would automatically trigger the activation of sophisticated video cameras, which would constantly monitor his every move and record every conversation. This is done in hopes of modifying the inmate’s behavior, possibly leading to some degree of rehabilitation.

“Now obviously, due to the rather invasive nature of the processes involved in both the marking and the implantation, a local anesthetic would be administered to prevent any pain from occurring and to comply with the Constitution’s ban on ‘cruel and unusual punishment’. Needless to say, both the expense and drastic nature of this penalty would be reserved for only those inmates perceived as a threat, both to other inmates and the general populace, or for those whose crimes are so heinous that they demand such extremes. However, your behavior in this courtroom and the evidence presented during this trial have convinced me that, in your case, such expense is more than warranted.”

With every eye in the courtroom fixed on him, the judge intoned, “It is therefore the sentence of this court that, upon adjournment, you, Christopher Whitmore, will be remanded to the custody of the state. The previous sentence rendered of two life terms, without possibility of parole, stands. Within ten days, you will be taken to a medical facility, at which time the aforementioned statute will be invoked and carried out, as mandated by the law of the State of California.”

He then turned his attention to the court reporter and instructed, “My following remarks are to be stricken from the record upon transcription.” He gazed coldly at Chris, who stood horrified at what he had just heard. His struggles had ceased, and he hung limply in the arms of the bailiff, his eyes wide. His cool exterior had been shattered. “Mr. Whitmore, allow me to put this in terms you will no doubt understand.”

The judge glanced at Ryan, favoring him with a warmer look of sympathy, and then turned icy eyes on Chris. “You will be branded, you will be watched, and your actions will be either rewarded or punished, depending on how you perform. In short, you, Mr. Whitmore, are about to become the ‘pet’ of the State of California. May God have mercy on your soul, because you will find none here.”

Silence fell like a funeral shroud over the courtroom for a moment, and then---

“This court stands adjourned.”

Chris shook his head slowly, and Ryan leaned forward slightly, his eyes glinting with a cold hatred as he watched. Chris’s lower lip began to tremble, and he whispered brokenly, “No... not me. I’m not the pet... I’m the master. You can’t... please. Please don’t. Please...”

Ryan nodded grimly. How many times had he begged like that? How many times had he said please, no more cutting, no more hurting? How much pleading had he done, for food, for water, for sleep? All around him, people in the courtroom were nodding their agreement with the sentence. Justice had been served.

Chris was pale and silent, shaking his head helplessly and clutching at the bailiff’s shirt. He didn’t say a word as they dragged him through the doors. Ryan and Colin watched him go, their arms still around each other. Ryan was smiling, but it was a hard smile. A dangerous smile. Colin saw it, and understood that maybe Ryan had gone a bit mad when he was in that basement. Then Ryan looked down at him, his eyes softening, and the madness was gone. Or at least, hidden.

“I think I pissed him off.”

Colin grinned. “Good.”

“Yeah. Good.” Ryan pulled the shorter man in for a tight hug, burying his face against Colin’s shoulder for a long moment. When he pulled back, Colin looked at him quizzically.

“All right?”

Ryan smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m all right. I think... I think everything’s going to be all right now.”

Colin kissed him. “Let’s go home.”

* * *

Finis