Riven By Kalimyre Pairing: Ry/Col, eventually Rating: Very NC-17 Warnings: All right everyone; this is a VERY dark and brutal story. We have violence, graphic rape and torture scenes, lots of heavy emotional stuff, and someone even dies, but don’t worry, it’s a bad guy. If you have a problem with any of that, DON’T READ THIS. I can’t stress this enough, I’m serious here; this is a very dark story. At its core it’s a first time Ry/Col story, with tons of h/c thrown in. The really brutal stuff doesn’t start till chapter three, but I’m posting the warning now. If anyone has a problem with this kind of story being on the message board, let me know. Notes: This is still in the editing process, a million thanks to Shark for all her help there. I’ll be posting as it’s edited, but it’s a very long story, so it may take some time. Feedback is always appreciated. And, in case you’re interested, the dictionary definition of the word Riven has some bearing on the story. Check it out at www.dictionary.com if you really want to know. * * * * * Hearing Colin coming back from the kitchen behind him, Ryan held up one hand until the cool bottle was pressed against his palm. He took the beer and brought it to his mouth for a sip, nodding his thanks to Colin, who was just sitting down on the couch beside him. Colin gave him a little sideways grin and took a drink from his own bottle, wincing slightly. “Damn watered down American beer,” he said, making a face. “Don’t knock it, it’s free after all,” Ryan replied, trying to look stern and failing completely. He was fairly buzzed, and Colin wasn’t far behind. They were relaxing in Ryan’s home, watching a little TV and just generally winding down from the day’s taping. They had another one scheduled tomorrow, and they tended to spend as much time together as possible during the busy taping season. With Colin spending a lot of his time in Toronto, working on his many projects, and Ryan busy with his commitments in LA, they didn’t get to see each other as often as they’d like. “You were pretty good today,” Colin commented as he slowly ran his finger down the side of his beer bottle, leaving a smooth line in the condensation. “Not so bad yourself,” Ryan grunted, smiling sleepily. “Although I don’t know how a dinosaur impression fit into that one game--“ “Don’t even start,” Colin said with a grin. “I think you just threw it in there because you couldn’t think of anything else and you knew it’d get a laugh,” Ryan said slyly, raising an eyebrow. “So? It worked, didn’t it?” Colin was smiling, feeling very relaxed -- and it wasn’t just the alcohol. Their little routine of hanging out, watching TV and just talking was probably his favorite part of the taping season. He had a lot of friends, but no one like Ryan -- the guy he was closest to, who he felt the most comfortable with, who could always make him laugh. “Only worked cause your fans just *love* to see that dinosaur impression...I guess there’s no accounting for taste, huh?” “Yeah, I guess that explains your fan base, doesn’t it?” Colin retorted, ducking when Ryan threw a cushion at him. Colin was laughing in that quiet way he had, when his smile got really wide and his chest shook with laughter, but he barely made any sound. Ryan could never look at that without laughing himself, and he snickered, putting a hand to his mouth and crinkling his eyes at the corners. “I’ll have you know,” Ryan said, between chuckles, “that my fans love me.” “I bet you just write yourself fan letters so the rest of us won’t feel sorry for you,” Colin said, still giggling. “Don’t worry Col, you’ll get some fan mail someday,” Ryan said, his voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness. Colin only rolled his eyes and shook his head, taking a deep, contented breath. He did so love these relaxed evenings. Ryan grinned at him, and then took another drink of his beer, wiggling his eyebrows comically just because he knew it would make Colin laugh. And of course, it did. They spent the rest of the evening that way, just talking about nothing, teasing each other and making fun of old, bad movies. It was pretty late when Colin left, still grinning as he walked away from the house. As far as he was concerned, life didn’t get any better than this. * * * Ryan woke up the next day still feeling relaxed and cheerful. He knew the taping was going to be fun -- working with Colin always was. He stretched lazily in bed for several minutes before finally dragging his long, slender frame into an upright position and shuffling into the shower. After getting clean and dressed, he made his way downstairs, one long-fingered hand trailing along the wall as he walked. His mind was already ticking over various ways to out-tease Colin today, and he chuckled softly, remembering their silly conversation of the night before. Their easy banter was probably the main foundation of their friendship, and Ryan felt lucky for it. Colin wasn’t just the guy he could always trust and depend on, not only the one who was always there for him, but he could always make Ryan laugh, too. As he walked through the living room, headed for the kitchen and already anticipating the first cup of coffee, something odd caught his eye. Pausing, he cocked his head curiously and stared for a moment before walking over and picking up the envelope lying on the floor. Wondering vaguely if Colin had dropped it last night, he turned it over in his hands a few times before shrugging and opening it. * * * A few hours later, Ryan was leaning against the wall in a back hallway of Raleigh Studios, staring at a piece of paper in his hands with a troubled look on his face. He had read the letter several times already, but the uneasy feeling it gave him didn’t fade with familiarity. When he caught a glimpse of his best friend walking by out of the corner of his eye, Ryan looked up quickly and put a hand on his shoulder. Colin turned and looked at him curiously, an unspoken question in his dark brown eyes. “Hey Col...could you look at something for me?” “Sure, what?” Colin replied, frowning a little when he saw the tension on Ryan’s face. Instead of replying, Ryan simply handed him the letter, nodding at him to read it. Colin glanced at it quickly, shot a look of confusion at Ryan, and then looked back at the letter again, reading it carefully. Ryan, I always watch your shows, and you’re just amazing. I think you are very attractive and sexy as hell; I'd like you all to myself. But your friend Colin would probably have something to say about that, huh? I mean, are you two a couple or what? You sure act like it. But that’s okay, I love seeing you, and I’m really looking forward to seeing you again. Real soon. Chris Colin rolled his eyes slightly at the familiar insinuation about his relationship with Ryan, but he didn’t see anything in the letter that would put that worried look on his best friend’s face. True, the tone was a bit different from the usual adoring fluff, but it was still a pretty standard fan letter. “So? It’s a fan letter. Probably some teenage girl with a crush on you...what’s the big deal?” Colin was smiling, half-expecting to hear that Ryan was kidding around with him in some way. His mind was already flicking back to the conversation they’d had the previous night about fan mail, and he couldn’t help wondering if this was all some elaborate joke Ryan was setting up. Colin knew his friend would do anything for a laugh, although writing a weird letter was a bit above and beyond. “Actually, I think it’s a guy,” Ryan answered seriously. He was not smiling, and Colin felt his own smile fade in reaction to Ryan’s strangely tense attitude. Glancing at the letter again, Colin said, “Chris? Well, that could be either, I guess. But you know most of our fans are girls. Why do you think it’s a guy?” “Because of that thing he said...you know, about us being a couple.” Colin shrugged, rolling his eyes again. “Everyone says that. Just because you can’t seem to resist kissing me on stage...” His teasing tone failed to raise a smirk from Ryan, and Colin trailed off, wondering just what he was missing here. “Okay, so lets say he’s a guy. So what?” Colin asked, still thinking it was probably some girl, but humoring Ryan anyway. Ryan seemed upset, and Colin thought it would be better to just go along with him until he could figure out what the real problem was. Ryan seemed to consider the question as he fiddled with something in his inner coat pocket. “Well, it’s weird enough that a guy writes me a letter to say he’s attracted to me, but ordinarily I wouldn’t really care. The thing is...” Ryan’s eyes flicked up to meet Colin’s concerned gaze before dropping to the floor again. Wordlessly, he pulled an envelope out of his coat pocket and handed it to Colin. The shorter man took it, and quickly examined it before giving Ryan another confused look. “Um...Ry, this is just a blank envelope. What are you getting at here?” “That’s what the letter came in this morning.” Ryan was watching Colin carefully, gauging his reaction. Still not understanding, Colin looked at the blank, open envelope again before shaking his head in perplexity. “But there’s nothing on this. How did it get mailed to the studio?” “It didn’t. I found it slipped under my front door. At home.” Understanding flooded Colin’s features as he realized why Ryan was acting so antsy about a simple fan letter. Ryan was looking at him, waiting for a response, and Colin frowned slightly, trying to come up with something reasonably reassuring. “Well...okay, yes, that is a little freaky, but he doesn’t seem to mean you any harm,” Colin said, tacitly accepting Ryan’s assumption that the writer was a man. For some reason the writer now seemed more threatening, since he knew where Ryan lived, and therefore Colin’s mind automatically saw him as male. “It’s not like he’s threatening you or anything--“ “Isn’t he? I mean, that thing where he says he wants me all to himself, or that he loves seeing me...Col, the guy knows where I live. What if he’s watching me or something?” Ryan felt a bit silly, like he was overreacting to this whole thing, but the thought of some complete stranger knowing where he lived and slipping obsessive letters under his door was creeping him out. He knew that some odd fan mail was pretty standard for just about anyone on TV, and both he and Colin got their fair share, but still...under his front door. At his home. That was just too weird. “Well, maybe he just means seeing you for the taping. Look, I know this is weird, but he probably just put the letter under your door to get your attention, that’s all. He wants a reply or something.” Even before the words left his lips, Colin saw the flaw in his reasoning, but hoped Ryan wouldn’t notice it. “No, because he didn’t leave any return address...or any last name, or any way of knowing who he is. The letter is even typed, not handwritten. This is a guy who wants to stay anonymous.” Colin’s lips tightened ruefully; he should have known Ryan would catch such an obvious logical flaw. He put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder, rubbing gently at the tension he felt there. The last thing he wanted was for Ryan to be all distracted during the taping, which was due to start in less than an hour. Colin thought the whole thing was probably no big deal, just some fan who wanted to play a joke and didn’t realize how it would affect Ryan. All the same, it would be better to take it seriously, just in case. “All right, what do you want to do?” Colin asked, keeping his voice calm and reassuring. Ryan seemed a little surprised by the question, and he shrugged slightly, lifting his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “I don’t know...there’s not really anything we can do. Even if he does know where I live, you’re right, he’s not threatening me. It just...makes me feel weird. The first thing I did when I got this letter was to close all my curtains and lock all the doors.” Ryan shook his head, slapping a fist into his palm in frustration. “I hate not feeling safe in my own home!” “Maybe we should tell someone. Just so someone knows what’s going on in case of...something,” Colin finished vaguely, not really sure what could happen but wanting to cover all his bases. Colin slipped the hand on Ryan’s shoulder down to the small of his back, applying light pressure to show his support. Ryan nodded in agreement, smiling faintly at his friend. “Let’s tell Drew. I don’t want this getting around to a lot of people, but he’ll keep it to himself,” Ryan said finally, still looking a bit sheepish for being so worried. Colin gave him a sympathetic look, shaking his head at the sight of his normally calm and relaxed friend acting so nervous. He decided that if Ryan didn’t feel safe in his own home, Colin would be more than happy to take him in -- he always liked having Ryan around anyway. “All right,” Colin agreed, “and then you can come stay with me for a little while. This guy doesn’t know where *I* live.” At the invitation, Ryan’s face broke into a relieved grin, and he felt better than he had all morning. Together, they set off down the hallway towards Drew’s office. * * * “So that’s the situation. There’s not a lot we can do, but for now, Ryan’s going to be staying with me. We just thought you’d like to know, and...well, it seemed like a good idea to tell someone,” Colin finished, shrugging and looking slightly sheepish. Ryan nodded in agreement with Colin’s explanation, and watched as Drew looked at the letter again. The chubby comic shook his head, smiling ruefully. “Man, what is it about you guys that makes people so crazy? I sure don’t get this kind of fan mail.” Colin shrugged in response, and Ryan snorted derisively, ready to make a comment about just why Drew didn’t get that kind of mail. Colin, seeming to read his mind as usual, placed a hand on his arm to stop him, and Ryan subsided with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Drew’s eyes flicked back and forth between his two friends, and he got a pretty clear picture of what had just happened. He’d known these two long enough to understand some of how their friendship worked, and pick up on a little of that silent communication that always seemed to run between them. “Go ahead, Ryan, I know you want to say it,” Drew said invitingly, his face calm but his eyes laughing. “Who, me? I wasn’t going to say a thing,” Ryan replied, sounding all too innocent. “Well...maybe a little something about how I’m irresistible and sexy, and you’re...well...Drew.” Drew made that scrunched up, trying to look insulted, trying not to laugh face, which only made Colin grin and Ryan’s eyes light up as he saw the opportunity. “See? That face, right there, that’s what I’m talking about!” Immediately grinning, Drew shook his head and said completely without rancor, “Well fuck you and the horse you rode in on.” Ryan only smiled, well accustomed to Drew’s mannerisms, and turned to Colin, raising an eyebrow and saying, “Oh, if we’re very quiet, he may confess more of his sodomy and bestiality related tendencies.” He spoke in that nature documentary voice he often used on stage, widening his eyes and exaggerating his gestures. Colin looked at him, refraining from laughter only with the help of his many years of practice. Ryan paused, and then leaned in close, widened his eyes ever so slightly, and quirked his eyebrows in the way that he knew was guaranteed to make Colin lose it. Colin’s mouth tightened as his eyes grew bright with laughter, and after a few seconds he gave in, giggling in that quiet way he had. Drew rolled his eyes and shook his head at the two chuckling men, deciding there were some things about that friendship he didn’t want to understand. Glancing down at the paper in his hands, he was reminded of the reason they had started this whole conversation in the first place, and he cleared his throat, bringing things back on track. “Well, staying at Colin’s place sounds like a good idea, but if you get another letter or any threats, we’ll have to go to the authorities.” Ryan and Colin nodded in acceptance, and Drew continued. “I’ll keep this quiet like you asked, and it’ll probably all blow over. Once this Chris guy realizes he doesn’t get a reaction, he’ll quit bothering you.” Everyone agreed on this, although Ryan still felt a bit uneasy. The tone of the letter was suggestive but harmless, and yet underneath the simple words he seemed to see a hidden malice. Deciding it was all in his head, Ryan shook himself slightly and followed Colin out the door. It was time to get ready for the taping. No one considered Chris to be anything more than an inconvenience. * * * Ryan turned the key in his front door and opened it for Colin, who gave him a quick nod of thanks before entering the house. Ryan followed, and shut the door behind him, then turned to the keypad mounted on the wall nearby. He entered the six-digit code that disarmed the security system, which had been triggered when the door opened. Colin was already heading upstairs, and Ryan locked the door again before following his friend. He didn’t bother to re-engage the security system -- they were only going to be a minute. He just wanted to get a few clothes and toiletries before heading to Colin’s house. The taping had gone well, despite Ryan’s slight nervousness. He had scanned the audience more often than usual, looking for someone who seemed to be behaving strangely. It felt odd to think someone in that crowd might be the same person who had slipped a letter under his door that morning. Colin had noticed his tension, but instead of confronting Ryan he had simply concentrated on cracking the taller man up. Colin always could make Ryan laugh, and he made a point of doing it more often than usual during the taping. By the time it was over, Ryan’s sides hurt and his face almost felt sore from grinning -- but the tension was gone. Being in the silent house was unnerving him again though, and Ryan found himself hurrying more than seemed necessary. He was pulling clothes out of the closet and tossing them on the bed, not really seeing what he was picking out, his mind whirling with nervousness and irritation at the situation. //This is ridiculous. I can’t believe I have to feel unsafe in my own home! I’m overreacting to this, right? I mean, sure I am. He’s just some fan. He said he thought I was amazing. So that’s good. It’s not like he would want to hurt me or anything. So why am I so damn nervous? God, I hate this. At least Colin’s letting me stay with him. I think I’d go a little nuts if I had to stay here, knowing some weirdo could be watching me. Shit, what if he’s out there right now? Okay, that’s just too freaky to think about. So stop it. You’re fine, everything is fine, you’re letting a stupid little letter get to you, knock it off. Just slow down and breathe a little bit. Nothing is going to happen.// Despite his resolution to stay calm, Ryan continued to pull clothes out, ending up with far more than he needed, moving faster and faster. Colin noticed and stopped putting the clothes in suitcases for a moment. He moved to Ryan’s side and put a gentle hand around his friend’s wrist, looking up at him with concern. Ryan chuckled sheepishly, shrugging and taking a deep breath. “Guess I’m being kinda silly, huh?” Shaking his head, Colin slipped an arm around Ryan’s shoulders. “No, it’s understandable. If some crazy fan knew where I lived, I’d be scared too.” Ryan smiled at him gratefully, and Colin smiled back, enjoying the moment. It never failed to amaze him just how close he and Ryan were. He didn’t know what he would do without the tall, skinny goof -- and he didn’t want to find out. “You’re going to be fine, Ryan. That guy probably won’t even come back.” Ryan nodded in agreement; he was glad he had someone who he felt comfortable enough with to admit his fear. That was when the sound of breaking glass reached them. Ryan and Colin stared at each other in alarm, and then towards the front of the house, where the sound had come from. Colin quickly walked to the doorway and stuck his head out, looking down the stairs toward the living room and the front door. His gaze caught the sparkling pile of shattered glass on the floor before moving up to see someone dressed in black slipping in through the slowly opening door. Pulling back in a sudden jerk, he turned to Ryan, white-faced and wide-eyed. “The front door is opening,” Colin whispered. “Someone’s breaking in!” Ryan swallowed, frozen for a moment, before the obvious occurred to him. There was a phone on the table beside the bed, and he picked it up, already reaching for the buttons to dial 9-1-1. But when he put the phone to his ear, there was no dial tone. Slowly dropping the useless phone back into the cradle, Ryan stared at Colin helplessly and whispered, “It’s dead.” Shivering at Ryan’s unfortunate phrasing, Colin turned frantically back to the doorway, hearing the voices of men on the stairs. Ryan looked helplessly around the room for a place to hide. His mind had already leapt to the conclusion that the intruder had to be the man who had written that strange letter, but he couldn’t seem to think beyond that. Fear and confusion were slowing his reactions, making him stand still in the middle of the messy bedroom like he was waiting for someone to come save them. Finally seeing the open closet door, he grabbed Colin by the arm and yanked him inside. They pushed the folding door shut bare seconds before the men made it to the top of the stairs. Wondering if the soft click of the door closing had been heard, they both held their breath and waited. The door had horizontal slats that gave them a partial view of the bedroom, and both men stiffened when they saw a stranger enter the room. He was not especially tall, but rather stocky and solidly built, with sandy brown hair and uniformly black clothing. A piece of nylon stocking was stretched over his face, giving his features a strange, distorted appearance. He paused, taking in the disheveled room, with the clothes strewn across the bed and the half packed suitcases. “Hey Chris!” he called, his words muffled by the nylon pressing against his lips. “Looks like he was going somewhere.” A growled curse echoed in the hallway, and another man stalked into the room angrily. “You fucking idiot! I told you no names!” Chris was taller, but still not as tall as Ryan, or even Colin. His head was completely smooth -- shaved, judging by his obvious youth. He also had a nylon covering his features, but his body was that of a young man -- one who exercised quite a bit. He shot a menacing look at the other man, who nodded rapidly, lowering his eyes and cringing into a kind of hunched-shoulders submissive posture. Ryan and Colin exchanged a look of fear as they realized this must be the same Chris who had sent the letter. “Hey, Be -- um, I mean...oh hell, just come over here. I found some money!” This third voice came from somewhere else on the second floor, and the two intruders in the bedroom responded, leaving Ryan and Colin to let out a long held breath. Finding Colin’s hand in the dark closet, Ryan laced their fingers together in a gesture of mutual support. Colin looked at him, and even though Ryan couldn’t see his friend’s features in the dim light, he knew Colin was smiling. The shorter man rose up on his tiptoes and placed his mouth nearly on Ryan’s ear so he could whisper very softly. “We’ll be okay. Let them take what they want, and they’ll go.” Ryan nodded his assent, and then both men jumped at the sound of something large crashing to the floor elsewhere in the house. The heavy thud was followed by the tinkle of breaking glass, and the raucous laughter of the men. “Those assholes are tearing up my house!” Ryan whispered in indignation. Colin placed a hand on the taller man’s chest, and a finger across his lips. “Sssshh! Better your house than you!” Gritting his teeth in frustration, Ryan grudgingly agreed to the wisdom of this, and kept quiet. Colin stroked his back consolingly, and they both tensed again as the voices got closer. “They’ve gotta be here, their cars are out front.” This drifted in from the hallway in the unmistakable voice of Chris. He sounded different from the others, with a surprisingly smooth tenor and a slight accent. “Both of them? Ryan *and* Colin? That would be SO great!” This sounded like the short, sandy-haired man they had seen earlier. His low, scratchy voice was raised in excitement, and Ryan and Colin found themselves edging a little closer together. Leaning over to whisper in Colin’s ear, Ryan said, “Ben? Bert? What do you think?” Colin shrugged, knowing Ryan was just trying to find a way to distract himself from his fear. Deciding to play along, he replied, “Let’s go with Ben. It’s nicer.” Ryan stared at him in disbelief for a moment before snorting laughter. Colin immediately clapped a hand across the taller man’s mouth, and Ryan quickly stopped, his eyes wide. Both men stood frozen in place, not daring to breathe. “Did you hear something?” “I dunno...we already looked in here.” Ben said this, as he followed Chris into the bedroom. Behind them was the third man, clearly older than the other two, with thinning salt-and-pepper hair and a rather gaunt frame. He seemed to have a permanent leer pasted on his face as he stared around the bedroom, paying special attention to the bed. Nudging the man Ryan and Colin had decided to call Ben in the side with his elbow, the third man nodded toward the bed and wiggled his eyebrows, which looked rather silly through the nylon over his face. “You think that’s where they do it?” he asked, his voice dripping with innuendo. Ben giggled, until Chris shot both of them a look that clearly said ‘shut the fuck up.’ Ryan and Colin stood frozen in place, breathing shallowly and clinging together as Chris turned slowly in a circle only a few feet away. “Come out, come out wherever you are...” The childlike singsong of Chris’s voice was even spookier when combined with the predatory grin on his face. He stared at the clothes and suitcases on the bed for a moment, and then swept them to the floor with a snarl. “He was running, all right. But he didn’t count on us getting here so fast. I knew he’d freak out over that letter -- I know my pet so well. I know everything about him -- I’ve been preparing for this so long. And just like I predicted, he’s trying to run away...probably going off to stay with his little friend. Like I didn’t see that coming. I’m so ahead of him -- he doesn’t have a fucking chance. I know they’re in the house somewhere, and we’re not leaving till we find them.” Ryan felt a shiver run down his spine at those words. His mind kept coming back to that phrase Chris had used -- ‘my pet’ -- what the hell did that mean? And apparently their clever plan to have him stay with Colin hadn’t been so clever after all. However bad the situation seemed right now, Ryan had the sinking feeling that it was actually worse. “Hey...seriously, do you think Ryan and Colin have actually done it on this bed? I mean, can you imagine that? We’re in the room where they’ve actually --“ “Would you shut the fuck up already!” Chris snapped, cutting Ben off in mid-gush. “It doesn’t matter now, don’t you get it? Everything they are, everything they’ve done, it doesn’t matter anymore. They’re mine now...he’s mine.” Chris paused for a moment, an almost feral smile stretching his lips and a faraway, intense look in his eyes. “If you two behave, I might let you play with the other one a bit,” Chris added, with the air of one conferring a great favor. Ben and the still unnamed third guy nodded and grinned enthusiastically, ducking their heads and chortling like kids playing a prank. Chris rolled his eyes at them, and in a sudden movement, flipped the mattress off the bed. It was large, specially made for Ryan’s long frame, so the easy lift was very impressive. Watching wide-eyed from the closet, Ryan and Colin both swallowed nervously. “Um...why’d you do that, Chr -- uh, boss?” “To see if they were under the bed, you idiots. Now keep looking!” As his minions scrambled to obey, Chris cast his raptor gaze around the room. Ryan tightened his grip on Colin’s hand, and felt an answering squeeze. He wanted to put his arms around the shorter man for reassurance, but was afraid the movement would give them away. “I know you’re here somewhere,” Chris said loudly, gesturing impatiently for the other two to keep looking. “When I find you, you’re going to be mine. I’ve watched you for so long...wanted you for so long. I always get what I want. You don’t know that yet, but you’re going to find out. Because I’m...not...leaving...without you!” Punctuating every word by slapping a fist against the dresser, Chris pulled the heavy piece of furniture away from the wall and tipped it, sending it crashing to the floor. Ryan and Colin flinched, and then froze again, hoping the movement hadn’t been seen. “They’re not in here. Should we check the rest of the house again?” Ben asked meekly, looking nervously at the toppled dresser. “We will...but we’re not quite done in here yet. There’s one more place to check.” Eyes trained on the closet door, Chris slowly stalked forward. Ryan felt Colin trembling at his side, and he swallowed again, biting his lip. Chris put his hand on the door for a moment, his fingertips lightly tracing the wooden surface as if he was reading Braille. He was literally only inches away, and Ryan squeezed his eyes shut as if that would help hide them somehow. He shifted ever so slightly, leaning a little closer to Colin so that their arms brushed together. Colin returned the gesture, feeling Ryan’s trembling echo his own. He felt sure that everyone in the room must be able to hear his hammering heartbeat, and the way his breath quickened with fear. Colin found himself wishing the crazy bastard would just open the door already and get it over with -- the tension was killing him. With a confident smirk, Chris dropped his hand to the door handle, gripped it firmly, and pulled. * * * * * Part 2 When the door was yanked open, everyone stood still for a long moment. Ryan and Colin, standing close together with their hands still joined, stared at Chris. Colin’s eyes darted around the room, taking in his first clear view of the intruders, and he swallowed nervously, not sure what to do. Ryan was holding himself to his full height, using his size to feel less intimated. He was scared, but his eyes narrowed in a show of stubborn defiance as he looked down on the three men. They had no right to be in his home, and Ryan set his jaw, glaring at them in an effort to hide his fear. Chris stared right back at them, and the nylon covering his face did nothing to disguise the intensity in his eyes. His thin lips slowly curved into a smile as his cold eyes fixed on Ryan, and the taller man shivered, leaning back instinctively. Ben and the other man simply gaped, practically salivating at the sight of the two performers. Colin stepped forward quickly, some half-formed plan of getting away and going for help running through his mind. This plan was quickly altered by the way Chris effortlessly grabbed him and twisted an arm behind his back, making him yelp in pain. Ryan stiffened, clenching his fists angrily, ready to jump forward and punch that bastard right in the face. He froze when a knife seemed to materialize against Colin’s throat. Chris held it with the ease of long practice, and he smiled at Ryan over Colin’s shoulder. “Now, now, pet...such aggressive behavior! That’s against the rules...but you’ll learn soon enough.” His gaze swept up and down Ryan’s body, and he licked his lips hungrily. He seemed content to stare at Ryan, and the moment stretched out until the third guy stepped forward, giggling in excitement. “Holy shit, it’s really them! Benny, look at this, we got ‘em!” Despite his fear, the pain of his arm being twisted and the feel of the sharp knife at his throat, Colin felt a tiny smile twitch at his lips when he heard the name. Apparently, his guess had been accurate. He met Ryan’s eyes, and they shared a meaningful look. Ryan had caught the name too, and his green eyes flickered with the barest hint of humor before he focused on Chris again with a frightened, watchful expression. Shoving Colin into Ben’s arms, Chris moved quickly to Ryan’s side and brandished the knife at him threateningly. With his other hand, he grasped Ryan’s upper arm possessively, staring up into his wide eyes with a crazy fascination. Painfully aware of the way Ben had his own knife trained on Colin, Ryan had no intention of making any sudden moves that might endanger his friend. Seeing that sharp blade against his best friend’s throat was both scary and frustrating -- Ryan wanted nothing more than to run across the room and yank Colin away, but he didn’t dare. He stayed still, sharing a helpless, frightened look with Colin before Chris recaptured his attention by tightening the hand on his arm. They locked eyes for a long moment, and despite his height advantage, Ryan felt intimidated. The man just had something, a kind of powerful presence that inexplicably made Ryan want to lower his gaze. He stubbornly refused to do so, trying hard to look angry instead of scared. Chris smiled slightly, nodding in a way that almost seemed approving, before breaking the staring contest to nod to his men, gesturing as if they should know what he meant. Rope was produced out of the third guy’s backpack, and Colin and Ryan were quickly bound, hands behind their backs and ankles closely linked. Prodding Ryan into the lead, Chris shoved him toward the door and ushered him down the stairs. Ben and his buddy followed with Colin, touching him as often as possible. Most of the contact came from the older, gaunt one, as Ben seemed too timid. The touches were verging on gropes by the time they got to the front door, and Colin had to suppress a cry of protest when the unnamed third guy screwed up his courage and grabbed possessively at the comedian’s crotch. Holding on for a moment and staring at Colin smugly, he finally released the frightened comic with a lecherous smile. Ben giggled nervously, licking his lips and darting his gaze rapidly between Chris and the other kidnapper, hunching his shoulders in anticipation of a reprisal. Colin was reminded of a dog that has been kicked too often, crawling on its belly in helpless, loyal servility to a cruel master. Chris, watching the whole thing, laughed coldly at Colin’s expression. “Oh, you ain’t seen nothing yet...Captain Hair,” Chris added derisively. “That’s just the beginning.” As he spoke, Chris slid one hand along Ryan’s side, firmly grabbing his ass before slipping between his legs to stroke the inside of his thigh. Ryan pulled away from his captor in frightened revulsion, only to be yanked back by the ropes and given a stern warning look. When Chris turned his attention to opening the front door, Ryan gave Colin a sympathetic look as the unnamed man grabbed his friend again. He wished he could do more, but their captors kept them from touching, so Ryan put as much reassurance in his eyes as possible, and smiled slightly when he saw Colin do the same. Carefully sticking his head out the door, Chris looked in both directions before pulling back in. He tugged at his captive’s ropes to get their attention and gave them both a warning look. “All right, here’s how this works. You,” he said, pointing at Ryan, “come out with me first. You make any noise, or try anything stupid, and your buddy here pays for it.” The third kidnapper nodded in agreement, pressing his knife against Colin’s throat again for emphasis. Ryan swallowed and nodded quickly, hating the sight of that sharp blade at his best friend’s neck. “Okay,” Chris continued, “then you stay with me in the van while my boys here bring him out.” He indicated Colin with a nod. “He tries anything funny, and you’re through. Everybody clear?” “As crystal,” Colin answered, and then immediately wished he hadn’t. Sometimes his mouth tended to work faster than his brain, and he winced, expecting another flare of temper from their obviously unstable captors. Chris only smiled grimly at him, though. “Glad you’ve still got your sense of humor,” Chris said. “You’re going to need it.” * * * Moving from the house to the van went exactly as Chris had described it. Both captives wanted to yell for help, but they were each restrained by the threat on the other. The operation was perfectly smooth, and Colin and Ryan were helpless to do anything about it. Obviously, this had been planned out in advance. The van was stripped on the inside, with a large empty space in the back separated from the seats up front by a wall. Colin and Ryan were placed in the back, which was entirely sealed in and windowless. The three men got up front, after making sure their charges were securely tied. When the doors closed, darkness descended on them, but Colin and Ryan still felt relieved to be out of the presence of those crazed kidnappers. As the van rumbled to life and began to move down the road, Colin edged himself over until he was resting against Ryan. Leaning back up against the shorter man, Ryan sighed raggedly and closed his eyes, trying to gather his wits. The whole series of events was so crazy, and it had all happened so quickly. He felt like he was still trying to catch up. “Are you all right?” Colin asked, turning his head slightly against Ryan’s shoulder. “Yeah...are you? That bastard was really twisting your arm.” “M’okay.” Silence fell again as the two men tried to come to terms with their situation. Some light managed to find its way into the back of the windowless van, so the darkness wasn’t complete, but it was still rather depressing. The only sounds were the low rumble of the engine and the sound of their breathing in the dim space. Ryan didn’t mind the quiet, though, as it gave him a much-needed chance to think. Shivering as he remembered the predatory way Chris had looked at him, Ryan pressed against Colin a little harder. Colin responded with equal pressure, turning to the side and placing his legs across Ryan’s lap. While Ryan faced the side, Colin was turned toward the front of the van, and he leaned forward so his shoulder was against Ryan’s chest and his head fit snugly under the taller man’s chin. Ryan dropped his head until his cheek was resting against the back of Colin’s neck, and took a deep breath. The position was about as comfortable as they were going to get, tied up the way they were. Although they usually weren’t this touchy-feely, they were comfortable enough with each other to sit close like this when the situation seemed to call for it. Ryan thought briefly that if a situation ever called for being close to his best friend, this was certainly it. “How are we going to get out of this?” Ryan murmured, not really expecting an answer. Colin shrugged, staring helplessly into the darkness around them. Ryan closed his eyes, wishing he could fall asleep and wake up in his bed at home, or better yet, his usual room at Colin’s place...then he would be safe *and* not be alone. Colin’s eyes were wide, looking around the bare space as if he would find some miracle item to get them out of this situation. He kept remembering the feeling of that stranger’s hands on his body: trailing along the side of his neck, over his chest, and taking a possessive grasp on his inner thigh. He shuddered, squeezing his legs together involuntarily as he recalled the invasive feeling of that hand on his groin. He wasn’t sure which he hated more, feeling it happen to him or watching helplessly while it happened to his best friend. These sickos, especially the leader, Chris, seemed to have some kind of sexual fascination with them. Well...that wasn’t entirely true. Chris was virtually ignoring Colin, focusing all his twisted attention on Ryan. And it hadn’t escaped Colin’s notice that Chris seemed to have all this planned out perfectly. This wasn’t some crazy prank or rash act, this was a carefully orchestrated abduction, and Chris seemed to know exactly what he was doing. Colin only wished he knew what was going to happen to them...no. He didn’t want to know. But he was afraid he had a pretty good idea. Afraid that the little groping session by the front door was only a tiny preview of what was to come. Ryan could feel Colin’s tension, the way he shivered every so often, and he figured the shorter man was probably thinking the same way he was. He could still feel that bastard’s hands on him, and the sensation made him want to scrub at his skin until the sickening, crawling feeling was obliterated. Ryan was reminded of a time when he had been building a campfire as a child. He had been about twelve, camping out with his family, and he’d been gathering deadwood for the fire. After picking up one rotting branch, he’d carried it for several minutes before the odd tickling sensation on his skin make him look down. To his horror, his hand and arm had been totally covered with ants. He'd dropped the branch and immediately started wiping frantically at his arm, which only agitated the ants, making several of them bite. The pain fed his panic and he wiped harder, scrubbing at his whole body without thought, making scared, revolted little choking noises in his throat. It had taken several minutes of this frantic motion to remove the ants, several of which had gotten into his clothes. For a few hours after that he couldn’t seem to sit still, shuddering and wiping at his skin, still able to feel the nasty little things crawling on him. Ryan felt the same way now, and he wished he could wipe at his skin now, but was stopped by the rope around his wrists. He could feel panic trying to chip away at the edges of his mind, and Ryan bit his lip, shutting his eyes and taking deep breaths in an effort to remain calm. It wasn’t working. The tense silence in the back of the van wasn’t helping either, and Ryan spoke not so much because he had something to say but just to hear the reassuring sound of his own voice. “We’ll be okay, Col.” Colin didn’t even lift his head to look at Ryan. He just nodded automatically against Ryan’s shoulder, even though he didn’t believe a word of it. He was sure Ryan didn’t believe it either. It was just what you say in a situation like that. Right up there with ‘it’ll be all right’ and ‘don’t be scared.’ Just what you say to keep yourself from panicking. Just what you say to reassure the other person when you’ve got nothing better to offer. Colin could feel Ryan’s slightly ragged breathing, could feel the tremble in the other man’s body, and he frowned, trying to come up with something to distract them both from their fears. “We’ll figure something out. We’re improvisers, its what we do,” Colin added with a forced smile. “Besides, people will be looking for us.” Ryan nodded, rubbing his cheek slightly against Colin’s hair in the process so his friend could feel the gesture even if he couldn’t see it. People would be looking for them. People with money and resources -- like Drew! “Hey, we told Drew about that letter! When we don’t show up for the taping tomorrow, he’ll know what’s going on!” Ryan was excited, already anticipating a rescue. Colin didn’t seem to share his optimism though, shaking his head gently against Ryan’s shoulder. “No he won’t. He’ll see the trashed house, and know something happened, but how is he going to find us? And even if he did somehow track us down, a lot can happen between now and then.” Colin was whispering again, not so much to avoid being overheard but just because he suddenly felt very tired. He let his eyes droop shut and relaxed against Ryan. Feeling the change in his friend’s body, Ryan nudged him quickly, trying to get his attention. “Colin? What’s wrong? Did they hurt you or something?” “No...I just...I can’t pretend this is okay, y’know?” Colin lifted his head so he could look Ryan in the eyes. “I think some bad things are going to happen to us, Ry. We need to face the reality of that. Those guys...they’re not playing. They’re serious. We can try to get away...but that just might get one or both of us killed. This is all...it’s really scary.” His voice trailed off again as Colin pressed his face into Ryan’s shoulder, breathing roughly and blinking rapidly in an effort to stay in control. “Stop it! Stop talking that way! We’ll be all right.” Colin nodded automatically, but kept his face hidden. Ryan clenched his fists as he felt a rush of anger at their captors, at his inability to fight back, at the whole situation. Being tied up, helplessly trapped in the back of the van, was probably the most frustrating. Ryan had always hated waiting, and now he had no other choice. Thumping a foot against the floorboards in agitation, Ryan blew an angry breath through his teeth. Colin lifted his head again and gave his friend a questioning look. “This just really pisses me off, y’know?” Ryan snapped in answer to Colin’s unspoken question. “Those assholes come into my house, break my stuff, and threaten my best friend with a knife...I wish I could do something to make them pay for this... Fuck! I hate being so damn helpless.” “I know, Ryan. I hate it too, but getting mad won’t help anything.” “Well, neither will getting all depressed! I don’t want to hear you talking that way anymore, you hear me?” Ryan gave Colin the best stern look he could manage, considering that the shorter man was very nearly sitting in his lap. Colin held his eyes for a moment before looking away and nodding. “All right, deal. You stay calm and I’ll try to be more optimistic, okay?” Colin’s voice was flat, but his eyes held the faintest hint of a smile. Ryan felt himself grinning slightly in return, and he marveled at the way his best friend could always make him smile, no matter what the circumstances. “You know, if someone had to be here with me, I’m glad it’s you.” You’re glad I’m tied up in the back of some whacko’s van?” Colin asked, raising an eyebrow. “No, that’s not it, I just meant you’re the one I would want to have with me for something like this, so I’m glad you’re here. I mean, not glad that you’re here, but...Colin?” “Yeah?” “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” “Yep,” Colin replied, biting his lip to keep from laughing. Shaking his head in disbelief, Ryan rolled his eyes and nudged Colin’s shoulder with his chin. Smirking at the taller man, Colin giggled softly and relaxed against Ryan’s chest again. They both felt slightly more relaxed, due to the easy, familiar banter. However, the smiles slowly melted off their faces as the quiet stretched out and both men worried about what was to come. “What do you think they’re going to do to us?” “Don’t, Colin. Let’s not talk about it, all right?” Colin looked at him in puzzlement, frowning slightly. “All I mean is, we’ll find out soon enough. Until then, there’s nothing we can do. So...in case something happens to us...let’s just take this time we have to be together. Because I’d really miss that if anything happened to you. Okay?” Ryan sounded a bit defensive, but Colin simply nodded in agreement and let his head drop again. Ryan shut his eyes, not so much to rest but to block out his bleak surroundings, and rested his cheek against the soft fringe of hair on the back of Colin’s head. The swaying motion of the van was hypnotic, and they might have dozed. It was hard to tell, in the dark, with no way to mark the passage of time. It wasn’t until the steady rumble of the motor suddenly cut out that they realized they had come to a stop. The ride might have been twenty minutes or a few hours, for all they knew. Colin and Ryan squinted as the back doors were thrown open, admitting bright sunlight into the van. One of the men climbed in and quickly shut the doors again, plunging them back into darkness. Using a flashlight to assist the process, the man put blindfolds around both their heads, getting in a few quick gropes and pinches in the process. The captives were roughly escorted out of the van and down what felt like a gravel path. There were no sounds of city traffic around, and the air felt cool and clean, which gave them the feeling that they were in the country somewhere. They had no way of knowing exactly where though, and there wasn’t time to analyze the surroundings further. Ryan yelped involuntarily as a hand firmly grabbed his ass and steered him through a doorway. He tried to pull away, only to find an arm across his chest, restraining him. He was pulled close against someone’s front, and a chin landed on his shoulder as the man whispered in his ear. “Mine…” The hissing, whispering voice was unmistakably Chris, and the young man snaked his tongue along Ryan’s earlobe. Ryan shuddered in revulsion, trying to pull away again, but to no avail. Chris laughed at him, and lightly slapped his ass before bringing a hand around in front to grope him thoroughly. “You’re already shaking? This is nothing...but by all means, do keep trying to get away, it won’t change a damn thing and then I get to punish you. I’d like that...but I don’t think you’ll enjoy it nearly as much as I will.” Ryan could hear the other two men laughing as Chris released him, and he stood shaking with anger and humiliation for a moment before being pushed along again. He stumbled slightly, his legs unsteady with fear. The way that bastard had touched him...and he’d been helpless to stop it. That was the worst part, that he couldn’t stop it. Ryan swallowed nervously, shaking his head. This just couldn’t be happening. Colin heard the whole thing, but was unable to see it. When he heard Ryan’s cry of protest at the beginning, he had immediately tried to move forward, but had been held back by the other two men. When he heard them laughing at his best friend, Colin gritted his teeth in anger, but kept quiet. He had no intention of provoking these psychos into further acts of violence. Being shoved forward with a blindfold on through what felt like a house was very disorienting. The rope binding their ankles together made progress slow, and it was hard to tell just how far they had walked when Colin suddenly bumped into a wall. The two men snickered at him, while Chris only smiled wryly, considering such childishness beneath him. Colin realized they had let him hit the wall on purpose. He swallowed a curse and somehow kept silent, his eyes blazing behind the blindfold. “Colin? You okay?” Ryan had heard the soft thump, followed by the derisive laughter, and he had no idea what had happened. For all he knew, Colin might have just been knocked out or otherwise hurt. Ryan found himself wondering if their captors were deliberately trying to lower his spirits. “Yeah, I just--“ “Shut up! You two have to *earn* the right to talk,” Chris snarled, giving them both a hard shove. Ryan was glad he had spoken though -- hearing Colin’s voice, alive and unharmed, was very reassuring. They heard a door opening, and a breath of cool, damp air wafted out at them, tinged with an old, musty scent. Chris took the lead, guiding them carefully down some steep, narrow stairs. The rope between their ankles barely allowed enough slack to make the steps, and they had several near falls. Every time, one of the men would catch them, making sure to feel them up a bit in the process. Maybe it was this added humiliation, or the hindrance of the ropes, but the stairs seemed to go on forever. Colin thought grimly that he might as well be descending into hell. The floor at the bottom felt strangely uneven, and it took Ryan a moment to realize it was hard-packed dirt. Which wasn’t surprising, really, since the whole place felt like a basement. The air was very chilly, and both men shivered a bit, turning their heads to look around even though they were still blindfolded. Tethers were attached to their bound wrists, and the ankle ties were removed. Then the blindfolds were slipped off, but the sudden light was just as blinding and both men blinked furiously, trying to clear their vision. Slowly, their eyes adjusted, and their surroundings became painfully clear. They stood in the middle of a large underground space, tethered to a thick pole that rose from the dirt floor and ran to the low ceiling. A single bare bulb hung overhead, illuminating the place where they stood but leaving the rest of the basement in shadows. Standing in front of them were the three men, Chris, Ben, and the older one with the thinning hair. As Ryan and Colin watched, the men slowly and deliberately removed the nylons covering their faces. The captives moved closer together, exchanging a look of fear. Years of watching movies and reading books had led them both to the same conclusion. If a kidnapper shows you his face, he doesn’t care about you identifying him. Which means you won’t be alive to do it. With a shark-like grin, Chris nodded at them as if he knew exactly what they were thinking. Gesturing to his companions, he said, “In case you’re wondering, this here is Ben, and he’s Jack. And as I’m sure you already know, I’m Chris. And you...you don’t have names anymore. You don’t exist as people anymore.” Here Chris paused, and then took a step forward and cupped Ryan’s chin in his palm, forcing the taller man to meet his eyes. “You’re my pet...and I’m going to have SO much fun with you...” * * * * * Part 3 Ryan and Colin stared nervously at Chris for a moment, and then Ryan jerked his head to the side, pulling out of the other man’s grasp. He took a step back and to the left, instinctively moving closer to Colin. With the same vague idea of safety in numbers, Colin leaned closer to his friend, allowing their sides to touch. Ryan’s eyes were defiant, but he pressed against Colin nonetheless, lifting his chin stubbornly but still frightened. Returning the gentle pressure, Colin adopted a similar pose, narrowing his dark eyes and straightening his back, trying to look unafraid. Chris only smirked at them, his eyes lingering on the way their sides were lightly pressed together. His suggestive gaze made the friendly, supportive contact seem dirty, and Colin automatically pulled away, feeling oddly guilty at first, and then angry because that bastard had made him feel embarrassed for something that was really innocent. Feeling stubborn, Colin lifted his chin and leaned back against Ryan, earning a slightly surprised look from his friend. Colin just looked up at him, his eyes hard, and Ryan nodded after a moment, understanding. They weren’t going to let Chris influence their behavior -- not if they could help it. “You like that, hmmm?” Chris asked, his voice thick with innuendo. “You like touching? Just how close are you two, anyway?” Ben and Jack sniggered at their leader’s question, knowing looks on their faces. “Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but we’re just friends,” Ryan snapped, pulling slightly away from Colin despite his intentions to not let Chris influence him. Chris raised a skeptical eyebrow, the smirk still firmly in place. “It’s true,” Colin supplied, with the slightest tinge of wistfulness. It was that look, that ‘we’re not together but sometimes I wish we were’ look, that convinced Chris. A speculative look lit his cold blue eyes, and he gave his two captives a chilling smile. “So...you’re really not fucking, huh. You sure act like it.” He paused for a moment, and Colin could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. Shrugging, Chris said, “Doesn’t matter. Nothing you’ve done in the past matters anymore. You’re mine now, and you’ll do exactly what I want.” Or suffer the consequences, he didn’t say, but still managed to imply. Chris watched them both for a long moment, seemingly lost in thought. Ryan and Colin exchanged a quick, nervous glance, subtly leaning a little closer together again. Chris raised an eyebrow slightly, and appeared to come to a decision. Stepping back, he nodded at the other two, who seemed to understand the gesture. They moved in behind Colin, pulling him away from Ryan’s side and holding him tightly. Jack trailed a hand over the Canadian’s face, tracing his lips with the tips of his fingers, which made Colin struggle to pull away. Jack put a stop to that by pulling out his knife again, dragging it lightly along Colin’s throat. He used just enough pressure for Colin to clearly feel how sharp and cold the knife blade was, and how easily it could slip through his skin. Jack shot a meaningful look at Ryan, who had been moving forward to help his friend, but froze in place when he saw the clear threat in the other man’s eyes. “Yes, you see?” Chris asked, nodding his approval, a satisfied smile on his face. “You learn quickly...good. I despise stupidity.” Chris paused for a moment, giving his pet a little time to react as he prepared to move on to the next step of his plan. Ryan stared at his best friend, a stricken look on his face as he watched the thug run his hands over Colin’s body. Ben stood to the side, looking...envious? Was that it? Like he wanted to touch Colin too, but didn’t quite have the nerve. Seeing the expression on Ryan’s face, Chris snorted laughter, and said, “Don’t look so upset! He’ll be fine...as long as you cooperate. I’ll even give you a break, and start out slow.” Chris fell quiet for a moment, considering the wisdom of implementing his plan so quickly. On the one hand, he had all the time in the world, and it would be fun to drag out the tension. Tell his pet what was coming, and then let him worry about it for a while. Let the fear grow. But on the other hand, the thought of his pet, the long-desired object of his obsession, giving him the pleasure he wanted so much... Now that was an appealing image. Chris could just picture it: his pet, on his knees, sweet mouth open, taking everything he had and then some...oh yes. Waiting was for idiots. Chris made up his mind. The amused tone left his soft voice, to be replaced by cold command. “Come here. Now.” Taking a quick glance towards the knife at Colin’s throat, Ryan moved obediently toward Chris. The tethering rope stopped him short, and he ended up still a couple feet away. Chris obligingly stepped forward, until he was nearly pressed up against Ryan, who leaned back reflexively. Cold blue eyes met Ryan’s green ones, and they held the stare for a few moments. Chris snapped his fingers and pointed down, his gaze daring Ryan to pretend he hadn’t understood. Ryan understood all too well, and he swallowed, shaking his head in denial. This whole thing was just too unreal, and it was happening so damn fast. Ryan felt like he was watching the whole thing in a dream -- or a nightmare. Colin suddenly sucked in a gasping breath, and Ryan turned to see a thin trail of blood dripping down his friend’s arm. The point of the knife was still in the skin, piercing it at that soft place on the inside of the elbow. Colin was biting his lip, obviously struggling not to cry out, his eyes filled with pain. As Ryan watched in shock, Jack carefully bent down and licked at the blood, slowly and deliberately. When he rose, the man who had previously looked so harmless and ineffective grinned, showing bloody teeth. Ryan shuddered and looked back at Chris, silently pleading with him to stop this. Instead of mercy, he got a hard punch in the stomach. Ryan doubled over, gasping, and Chris shoved down on his shoulders. Stumbling, and then dropping to his knees, Ryan glanced back at Colin again. His gaze pleaded for help, but Colin was trapped, and only stared back at him with wide eyes. Ryan noticed briefly that the knife had been removed from Colin’s arm, but his mind barely registered that fact as he frantically struggled to get up. Steely hands on his shoulders kept him down, and as Ryan kept fighting against them, Chris nodded at Jack again. Jack responded by putting his bloodied knife to Colin’s throat and pressing until a bead of crimson appeared at the tip. Ryan stared at this, seeing the fear and pain in his best friend’s eyes, and gritted his teeth in frustration. He was directly on eye level with Chris’s groin, and he couldn’t pretend he didn’t know what was happening here. This bastard was actually threatening his best friend’s life to make him perform...he couldn’t finish the thought. He didn’t *want* to finish that thought. Ryan could feel the panic trying to take over, and he clenched his fists, looking around frantically for a way to escape. It seemed like he could already feel the violation that was coming, and thinking about it was only making it worse. Colin made a tiny sound of pain, and Ryan’s eyes darted his way again, staring into the deep brown eyes with helpless fear. He would do anything for Colin, sure. Of course he would. But this...it couldn’t be real. It wasn’t fair to ask this! Ryan was frozen, his thought and reason lost in the swirl of emotion. He could still feel the hands on his shoulders, holding him down, and he still pushed up against them slightly, but the hard struggling was over. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ryan realized he’d already made his decision. He knew damn well that Colin’s life depended on it, and when you think of it that way, it’s not such a hard question, is it? He would give in, do what the bastard wanted, that choice had already been made. Now he just had to make his body obey his mind. Ryan closed his eyes for a brief moment in the futile hope that he could somehow make all this go away. Then, slowly, he forced his legs to relax, setting more firmly to his knees, a look of helpless resignation on his face. Chris watched all this with a calm, slightly curious expression. He had been relatively sure that his pet would succumb, to save the other’s life, but it was always interesting to see it happen. Congratulating himself on the cleverness of his plan, Chris smiled slightly, anticipating how much he was going to enjoy this. This particular pet was one he’d wanted for a long time, and he was certainly living up to Chris’s expectations. Pets that broke easily were boring, but this one was going to be fun. Chris grunted his approval and began to unbutton his pants. The motions were slow, teasing...he did so love to play with his pets. To see the growing fear, the helplessness...fun. His eyes traced over the kneeling form, taking in the long, smoothly muscled torso, the softly tousled hair, the terrified green eyes...Chris had to catch his breath slightly. He’d waited for this so long! He could feel himself responding already, and Chris reminded himself to take it slow with this pet. After all, he could only break him once, and then the really fun part was over. Of course, he could keep the pet around for a long time after he was broken, another toy to play with, but he would soon become bored. Toys were never as much fun after they were broken. But right here, right now, this was the best part. Seeing the denial change to understanding as his pet realized he had no choice. Seeing the terror, the resignation, and after it was over, the shame...so nice. Chris really wanted to drag this out, but his body was demanding that he move faster. By the time his pants landed in a rumpled heap around his ankles, there was a noticeable bulge in his underwear. Ryan was unable to avoid seeing it, since it was right in his face, and he felt his stomach lurch as revulsion crawled along his skin. He could feel his breathing quicken and his body tremble. Ryan was aware of everything around him; the musky scent of Chris, the way the dirt floor felt under his knees, the feeling of those iron hands on his shoulders, the chill as cold sweat broke out on his skin, and the sound of his own terrified heartbeat rushing in his ears. “Take them off, pet. Gently...if you hurt me, he pays for it.” Chris nodded toward Colin when he said this, and Ryan didn’t doubt the threat for a second. The sight of his best friend’s blood in that bastard’s mouth had dispelled a lot of his illusions. Since his hands were tied behind his back, Ryan had no choice but to use his teeth, much to his disgust. He carefully removed the underwear, holding his breath in an effort to keep from smelling or tasting anything, and then shot another angry, disgusted look up at Chris. He only smiled wryly, and then reached down and turned Ryan’s chin, forcing him to confront what he so wanted to avoid. “Now, I trust that you know what to do? You’re a smart little pet, I think you can figure it out,” Chris added, looking knowingly down at him. Ryan looked away, still not quite able to make himself do this. He knew he had to, he’d already decided to, but when it came right down to it, the thought of actually opening his mouth and letting that bastard put his...no. Just...no. Better not to think about it. Just do it and get it over with. Colin was staring at Ryan, his dark eyes wide and pleading. He wasn’t sure what he was pleading for though -- he didn’t want Ryan to do this, but he didn’t want to be cut again either. His arm still stung from the first cut, amazingly painful for such a little thing. He didn’t want to find out what a larger slice would feel like. Colin shook his head slightly, feeling ashamed of himself for even thinking that way. How could he be complaining about a little cut when Ryan was being...well, let’s face it, raped, right before his eyes? Colin wanted to struggle, wanted to get away, but reason told him it was useless. But it wasn’t just reason, was it? No, if we’re facing things here, we might as well tell the whole truth. Logic was part of it, maybe a big part, but there was also selfish fear, and the desire to avoid more pain. Colin bit his lip, looking away...he felt suddenly unable to meet Ryan’s eyes. Taking a deep breath, Ryan squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and then took Chris in his mouth. The man was already hard, and when he felt Ryan’s lips close over him, he gasped and thrust forward. Ryan was caught by surprise and he pulled back, gagging. Chris grabbed Ryan’s hair, lacing his fingers through the dark blonde curls and pulling painfully. He pressed Ryan’s head back where he wanted it to go, and continued to control his movements with that punishing grip on his hair. //Fucking disgusting asshole, this can't fucking be happening. No FUCKING way! Oh God, I have to get away. Make him stop, someone, please. I can't stand this. Let me go, let me go, damn you! I'm trapped... How can this happen to me? I've got a fucking DICK in my mouth! It's in there...I can taste it. God I'm going to be sick... It's making me so sick...please, please stop it! Colin! Don't let him do this to me! You can't let this...I have to do something. I can't just let this happen! It hurts... please, no more. Please? Can't you see that I don't want this? How can you force someone like this? No! Fucking stop it you bastard! I... Oh, God, please just stop. It's enough... No more... please...// Ryan kept his eyes closed, and breathed through his nose, trying to control his reactions. Chris was not overly long, but he kept forcing himself to the back of Ryan’s throat, triggering his gag reflex. His stomach was already unsteady and Ryan had to focus a lot of energy on keeping his lunch down. Although he had to admit, the thought of throwing up all over this fuckhead had a lot of appeal. Colin shut his eyes and looked to the side, unwilling to watch the gruesome scene playing out in front of him. The cold, smooth surface of the knife blade pressed against his cheek, forcing his head back to its former position. He kept his eyes squeezed tightly shut, and wished he could shut his ears to the sounds of Chris moaning and Ryan gagging helplessly. “Open your eyes, honey,” hissed a voice in his ear, but Colin refused to witness the brutal rape of his best friend. The knife still resting against his cheek turned so the sharp edge was pressing against the skin, not quite hard enough to cut. “Do it now, or else...” Jack didn’t need to finish the threat. Colin unwillingly opened his eyes again, catching a glimpse of Ryan on his knees, disgust and fear written all over his face, his eyes flashing furiously, while that bastard forced himself into the open mouth with rough, careless thrusts. Colin immediately averted his eyes, swallowing hard as nausea shot through his body. His stomach was actually so tense it hurt, and his fists clenched helplessly behind his back. “Ah ah ah…that’s a no-no,” Jack chided, driving his admonition home with the point of the knife. “I want you to watch...don’t you want to? Doesn’t it turn you on to see him like this? All helpless and submissive...it should. After all, he is doing it to save your life.” Colin gritted his teeth, clenching his fists in frustration. The pain of his fingernails digging into his palms helped to clear his head a little of the dizziness that threatened to overtake him. He was breathing carefully, taking little sips of air in an effort to control the nausea rising in sickening waves up his throat. Ryan was doing this to save his life. These crazy bastards just had to point that out. **Oh God, Ryan no. I can't let this happen! I need to do something... Make this sick asshole let go of me so I can rip the other fuckhead's throat out! I sure as fuck can't just stand here and watch! Those bastards are fucking getting off on seeing this! They're not going to get away with this! I swear I'll make them pay if it's the last fucking thing I do! Shit, I can't stand the sound of him gagging. Oh Ryan... I'm so sorry... I can still feel that knife-edge on my skin... it fucking hurts! If only it wasn't there... God damn it, I can't watch this, can't watch... I can't... I'm so damn sorry. If I wasn't here, you wouldn't do... God you fucking asshole just stop it! Stop doing that to him! Stop making me watch! The look on his face... hang on, Ryan, I swear I'll help you somehow. Those gagging sounds... you bastard, can't you at least slow down? You... you've got no fucking right! I'd rather be dead Ryan wouldn't have that look on his face... wouldn't have that... thing in his mouth. God, Ryan... no, this can't be happening. Why me? Why you? I'm going to kill every last one of them, just give me an opening. Just a chance and it'll be over... Ryan I'm coming, I promise...** Colin’s furious thoughts were interrupted when Jack thrust a hand down the front of his pants, suddenly and without warning. Ben, who was watching his boss, and apparently his role model, force himself on Ryan, didn’t seem to notice as Jack slowly moved his hand, staring gleefully into Colin’s eyes. The pressure on the knife at his throat slowly lessened as Jack concentrated on his groping, and Colin stood perfectly still, waiting for his chance. Seeing the lack of response as a sign of welcome, Jack leered and leaned in closer. The look of self-important superiority on his face would have been funny under other circumstances, but Colin wasn’t thinking about that. He couldn’t stand to watch the brutal assault for a moment longer. His only thoughts centered on getting away from this idiot so he could do something -- anything -- to take THAT look out of Ryan’s eyes. The pain, the humiliation, the revulsion...he just couldn’t take it anymore. Colin was concentrating on showing no reaction as Jack’s hand crept further into his pants. He could feel the bastard’s fingers curling around him, cold and hideously invasive. His legs tensed, the adrenalin making him want to leap away. Colin wanted to punch this asshole, to yank his hand away, break his fucking fingers, but he couldn’t. He had to stand still and wait for his chance. For Ryan. Jack smirked, thinking he had Colin so cowed he could do anything he wanted. Pausing one last time to stare smugly into the dark eyes, he pasted a sloppy kiss on Colin’s lips. Inspiration struck and Colin opened his mouth. Jack smiled in triumph and quickly stuck his tongue inside, lacking technique but apparently trying to make up for it with copious amounts of saliva. Colin tolerated this for about two seconds before snapping his teeth together on the intruding tongue, slicing deeply into the surface. Howling in pain, Jack yanked himself away, his hands going up to cover his heavily bleeding mouth. Not even taking the time to spit out the blood, Colin wheeled, and charged straight for Chris. “Shit! Fucker bit me! Oh Christ, that hurts! You fucking -- I’m gonna -- oh you’re fucking through!” Jack continued to howl incoherently, causing Chris to pause in his movements and look up. Feeling the punishing grip on his hair loosen slightly, Ryan leaned back reflexively, spitting the invading flesh out of his mouth in revulsion. He turned to see Colin rushing forward, murder in his eyes. Colin met Ryan’s gaze for a split second, and that was all it took. Understanding passed between them in the space of a heartbeat, and Ryan threw his weight backwards, pulling out of the younger man’s grasp and clearing a path for Colin to tackle Chris. Fury powered Colin’s movements, and his vision seemed narrowed to a single target. Chris was standing still, looking helpless. Colin felt powerful, unstoppable, and invincible. Then, he felt a sudden sharp yank on his wrists and shoulders, as the tether rope pulled him up about six inches short of his target. The force of his charge translated into a powerful recoil that pulled Colin off his feet, and he landed hard on the dirt floor. Jack, still screaming and cursing about his mouth, ran forward and began viciously kicking the dazed man. Ryan started to his feet, intent on stopping the attack, but Chris yanked him back without even thinking about it. “Stop it, you bastard, leave him alone! God damn you, you fucking little -- when I get my hands on you, I swear you’re going to fucking regret ever being born!” Ryan was shouting at the top of his lungs, trying desperately to escape Chris’s iron grasp. Jack was still screaming too; his words were muffled by his injury, but the feeling behind them was perfectly clear. Colin was writhing helplessly, crying out in pain, trying to get up but hampered by the ropes and the constant blows from Jack. Ben stood to the side, his jaw hanging open in confusion, eyes darting from one man to the next. In the midst of the chaos and noise, Chris cocked the pistol that was suddenly in his hand, and the soft ‘click’ froze Jack in mid-kick. “I swear to fucking God, Jack, you kick him one more time and you’re dead.” His voice was perfectly calm and even, absolutely devoid of emotion. “But...but he bit me. I was just--“ “I don’t care what you were just. We need him to control my pet, you get me? Now, back...the...fuck...off!” Each word was emphasized with a slight twitch of the gun, causing Jack to flinch nervously. He nodded and backed away, shooting hate-filled glances at Colin, who was still lying on the ground. Replacing the gun in its cleverly hidden shoulder holster, Chris smiled in satisfaction and looked back at Ryan. “This has all been very exciting, my pet. I love the unexpected...it’s a challenge. Now, finish your job.” Ryan stared at him; he was unable to connect the smooth, cultured voice with the man who had just calmly, seriously threatened to murder one of his own people -- just so he could have a way to control his ‘pet.’ Swallowing as he realized just how obsessed Chris was, Ryan cast a worried glance at Colin, who was still curled on the ground. Chris raised an eyebrow impatiently, and drew his fist back in an obvious threat. Ryan narrowed his eyes and set his jaw stubbornly, staying on his feet. He refused to be terrorized, especially by such a sick bastard. He also refused to go back to his knees. There was no way he was letting that fucking thing get put back in his mouth. Shaking his head and smiling wryly, Chris said, “And here I thought you were a fast learner. Pity.” The fist swung forward before Ryan could tense his muscles in preparation, and caught him just below the ribcage. His gasp of pain made Colin look up in time to see Ryan being forced to his knees again. All the scuffling had changed their positions somewhat, and now Ryan was facing Colin directly, with Chris between them. As Chris grabbed his hair and began forcefully thrusting into his mouth again, Ryan shared a long glance with Colin. The shame and anger in the taller man’s green eyes was perfectly clear, and Colin got the message. He nodded once, and then looked away, knowing Ryan didn’t want him to witness this. Squeezing his eyes shut and once again wishing for this to be over, Ryan concentrated on controlling his gag reflex. //No, not again. Not anymore, please! Get that fucking thing out of my mouth! Oh, I hate you so much... God, please, someone stop this! That dick in my mouth... the taste of it, he's fucking loving this, loves that there's nothing I can do to stop it. Oh God, there IS nothing I can do. I just can't stand this and he knows it. I want to get away so bad... I want to bite him, to hurt him like he's hurting me! But... Colin, God I hope he's okay... fucking bastards! I want them to suffer for this! Get the fuck away from me! I feel so sick... God DAMN it! Someone take me away from here! He's just going at it, tearing my hair, just USING me, like I'm not worth anything anymore. And Colin's seeing me, seeing how I just let this go on. He's seeing me being used and humiliated and not doing anything against it. God, why did he have to be here? If he wasn't here, I sure as fuck wouldn't be doing this! Why did any of this have to happen? I feel so damn sick... You just wait, motherfucker, you just wait. You're NOT getting away with this... oh God it hurts... And I'll hurt you back. Just you wait... God please make him stop.// Ryan’s fists were clenched behind his back, chafing restlessly at the tight ropes. Chris was picking up speed, moaning softly under his breath. Ryan stared up at him, hate darkening his emerald eyes. Chris smirked at him, seeming to enjoy the sight. “That’s right, pet, look at me. I want to see your face...I’ve wanted this for so long.” When Ryan heard this, he tried to look away. Chris kept him firmly in place, both hands clutching at the back of his head. Ryan stubbornly refused to meet the younger man’s eyes, just as he refused to give him any stimulation with his mouth. He kept it open and didn’t bite, but that was the limit of his cooperation. Chris obviously didn’t mind, judging by his rapid breathing and the flush that was creeping up his cheeks. “I’m...I’m very close now. When I come, you’re going to swallow what I give you. If a single drop of my come hits the ground, your friend’s blood will follow it. You get me?” Ryan’s eyes flashed furiously, but he nodded, steeling himself. If the thrusting into his throat had challenged Ryan’s ability to fight nausea, the feeling of swallowing that bastard’s semen nearly obliterated it. He gagged hard, taking shallow breaths through his nose and pressing his lips firmly together in an effort to hold it down. After what seemed like forever, Chris finally released him, and Ryan remained still for a few moments, trying to process his reactions. The experience had left him dazed and emotionally numb, for the moment. An eerie sense of unreality settled over him, and he felt like he was watching the whole crazy scene from somewhere outside himself. A muted whimper of pain from Colin pulled him at least partway back to the real world, although he still felt strangely empty. He moved to Colin’s side, crouching down beside him and trying to check for serious injuries -- hard to do, with his hands tied behind his back. Chris was slowly refastening his pants, a lazy, satisfied smile on his face. “Benny, fix them up with ankle chains and undo the hands. That little escape attempt was so amusing, they’ve earned some down time.” Seeing the smug look on that bastard’s face just made Colin even angrier, but there was nothing he could do. Ryan had his head down, concentrating on Colin so he didn’t have to think about what had just happened, and didn’t catch the look. Chris slowly sauntered up the stairs, pausing as he reached the heavy metal door at the top. He produced a key on a chain around his neck and turned it in the lock, opening the door slightly. Casting one last smirk down at his two captives, he said, “Get some rest. You’re going to need it.” * * * * * Ben obediently fastened heavy metal ankle cuffs to Ryan and Colin, so that they each had a chain running from their right ankle to the post. Then he removed the ropes from their hands as Jack looked on, covering them with the knife. The older man kept his other hand over his still bleeding mouth, and continued to stare hatefully at Colin. Colin looked right back at him, and then slowly grinned, showing his bloodied teeth. Jack didn’t seem to appreciate the irony. He stepped forward and raised a fist, but paused when Ben put a hand on his elbow. “Chris wouldn’t want you doing that, Jack.” “Fuck Chris! Little fucker bit me -- I’m gonna knock all his teeth out!” “No. Chris said I could have him when he’s done, and I want him whole. You mess him up, and I’ll tell.” Ben’s gaze was calm and implacable, and Jack subsided, giving him a dirty look. Pressing a hand to his mouth again, Jack stalked up the stairs and out the door, muttering angrily all the while. Colin wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or worried. The thought of being passed around like a possession irked him, and he narrowed his eyes, blowing out a frustrated breath. “Now, you make sure he’s okay,” Ben said to Ryan, indicating Colin with a nod. “You just check him over, cause if he dies sudden-like, Chris is gonna be pissed. And believe me, you don’t want to see him mad.” Ryan nodded at the instructions, since he had planned on examining Colin anyway. With one final check to make sure the chains were secure, Ben left, and the two friends were once again left alone. “Are you all right?” They blinked and looked at each other in surprise, realizing they had both asked the exact same question at the same time. “No.” The answer was in unison as well, and Colin snorted, shaking his head. Ryan shrugged and leaned forward, gently patting the shorter man’s torso. “Let me see. Did that bastard break anything?” “Nah, I think I’m okay. Hurts like hell, but I can breathe just fine. He kicks like a girl.” Ryan rolled his eyes and pulled at Colin’s shirt anyway, wanting to see for himself. “What about you?” Colin asked, looking at his friend with concern. “What *about* me? They barely touched me. You’re the one that got hurt.” Ryan kept his eyes on Colin’s chest, refusing to meet his gaze. “But you’re the one who...well, you know.” “Yeah. I know.” Ryan felt his shocked, numb feeling beginning to fade, and he clung to it, sensing the emotions that were hiding behind it. He didn’t want to deal with the fear that was reaching out to claw at him. Fear that he would never be the same, that he was damaged somehow, and most of all, terror that it would happen again. The sense of helpless despair swallowed him like some strange, dark, undersea monster, and Ryan started shuddering as reaction began to set in. The invasive feeling of a stranger’s dick in his mouth kept coming back to haunt him, and Ryan felt his stomach lurching once again. He lived it all over again: the sense of helpless desperation as Chris thrust into his mouth, the sickening salty taste that he’d had to swallow, the way Chris had moaned as he forced himself ever harder and faster...it was all adding up and Ryan’s body was rebelling. Colin stroked a hand down his back, his eyes widening with concern as Ryan’s shaking got worse. His normally ruddy complexion was chalk-white, and little hitching noises were starting to come from his throat. “Oh shit, I’m gonna be sick,” Ryan murmured, just before he clamped his mouth shut in a struggle to control his gorge. “Go ahead, Ryan, sick it up, you’ll feel better,” Colin said, still rubbing the taller man’s back. Ryan rose to his feet and staggered as far away as the chain would let him go, then finally lost the battle with his stomach. Colin patted his back helplessly, looking away from the sight. When Ryan was finally done, he leaned against the older man weakly, feeling light-headed. Colin helped him back to the post, and they sat down, leaning against it. Ryan was still trembling, and he pressed against Colin’s side, resting his head on his friend’s shoulder. Colin slung an arm around him, holding him tight and letting his own head drop onto Ryan’s. They stayed like that for a few minutes, staring at nothing in particular, simply trying to sort through their thoughts. Ryan felt like he was sinking in quicksand. The memories of his violation kept running around in his mind, circling again and again. Shame, anger, fear and guilt all seemed to feed off each other, growing stronger by the minute. Ryan shook his head, lifting his hands slightly in a gesture of helplessness. He felt like he should say something, but he had no idea what it would be. He didn’t want to think, or feel anymore. He just wanted to hide from everything. Ryan drew his knees up close against his chest, curling into a tight ball, arms covering his head. //Oh, God, make it stop...I don’t want this to be real. I can’t...what did I do wrong? Why couldn’t I stop it? I wanted to so bad, I just wanted to get away and I couldn’t -- no! I don’t want to see it anymore! Please, just let me go to sleep, let me get away. I just...I couldn’t get away. I should have done something! If I had just fought a little harder, or said the right thing, or...I don’t know... Shit! Stop it! Stop thinking about it, stop feeling it...I hate feeling this way! It’s not fair...please, just let me hide. I’m so scared of him coming back -- of this happening again...I don’t think I could stand that. This is all so...I can’t think anymore. I can’t feel anymore, I just can’t! Let me stop feeling...please...// Ryan felt himself drifting away, into a place somewhere deep inside where there was no fear, no shame or anger. It was quiet, safe and warm; and most importantly, dark. Dark so no one could see him. Dark so no one could find him. Colin shifted slightly, trying to ease his bruised ribs. The physical pain was unpleasant, but fleeting. The mental anguish was the real problem. He kept seeing it all in his mind, and it seemed to get worse with repetition. Not only had his best friend in the world been sexually assaulted before his eyes, he had to deal with the fact that Ryan would never have complied if it wasn’t for him. Colin’s guilt was like a heavy weight on his chest, and he swallowed hard, unable to look at Ryan. That wasn’t all, though. Oh no, that was only the beginning. Things were already so bad. Colin shuddered to think what might happen next. Despair threatened to overwhelm him, and he spoke just to break the depressing silence. “Do you...do you want to talk about it?” Ryan didn’t answer. Colin frowned in confusion, staring at his best friend. Ryan was still tightly curled, his body tense, and he was rocking slightly. Colin put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently to get his attention. Ryan didn’t respond at all, and Colin felt the first touch of fear in his chest. Something was clearly very wrong here. “Ryan? C’mon, talk to me. Please? What’s wrong? Ryan? Ryan!” Hearing the edge of panic in his own voice, Colin forced himself to take a deep breath. Unfortunately, deep breaths simply weren’t cutting it. The whole situation was just too much. He had been snatched from a place he’d thought was safe, forced to witness the rape of his best friend, groped by a leering, violent asshole, and now to top it all off, something was seriously wrong with Ryan. Colin was losing control, and he started pleading desperately with Ryan to come back. “Wake up! Please, you have to be here, Ryan, you just have to! I can’t do this alone...how can you be so selfish? How could you let him use me against you? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Colin paused, breathing hard and struggling to blink back tears, as he realized what he had just said. For a moment, he hoped that Ryan was too far withdrawn to have heard those words as the guilt came crashing down on him all over again. “Oh, shit, I can’t believe I just said that. I’m so sorry, Ryan, so sorry, this is all my fault. If I wasn’t here they couldn’t force you to cooperate; I should have done something! I should have made that bastard stop, God, Ry, I’m so sorry. Please, please come back to me. I can’t...I need you here. I can’t do this...oh Ryan, please!?” Colin held Ryan close against his chest, rocking him and continuing to murmur senselessly into his hair. He wasn’t sure when the pleading turned into tears, but it didn’t really matter. Ryan was still curled up tight, unresponsive, and Colin couldn’t handle it anymore. He sobbed helplessly against the taller man’s shoulder, lost in his emotions. It wasn’t until Ryan actually put his long arms around Colin’s trembling body that he realized his friend was awake. “Ryan?” Colin asked tentatively, staring into the familiar green eyes. “Are you...are you here now?” Ryan ran a soothing hand down Colin’s cheek, gently wiping away the moisture there. “Yeah, I guess I am. I was just...I don’t know. I had to get away for a little while there. I’m so sorry I let this happen--“ “No! Don’t you dare be sorry! We both know this isn’t your fault -- it’s mine. They used me to make you...make you do that.” Colin pressed his forehead against his friend’s, carefully keeping their gazes locked. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have done something to stop it.” “At least you tried to do something! You bit that bastard, tried to get to me, and all I did was sit there and... I let it happen...if I had fought back better, or resisted, or...something, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” Ryan’s voice was tired, defeated. He looked at the ground, too ashamed to meet Colin’s eyes. With a gentle touch, Colin lifted his friend’s face until they were staring at each other again. He tried to pour as much reassurance and understanding into his dark eyes as possible. “Now you listen to me, Ryan Stiles. You couldn’t have done anything differently. This was NOT your fault. Are we clear?” Ryan didn’t nod, but he didn’t look away, either. Realizing this was the best he was going to get, Colin sighed in resignation and asked, “Do you think you’ll be all right now?” “I don’t know. I just...I don’t know. I can’t think right now. I want to get away...I don’t want any of this to be real.” Ryan paused and stared at his hands, which were still trembling. Colin nodded in understanding. “I just...I hate this, y’know? All of this!” Ryan smacked a fist into his palm in frustration, biting his lip. Colin felt the same anger, the same confusion and desperation, but he couldn’t help but wonder what was going through Ryan’s mind. He knew how it felt to watch something like that, but to actually be forced... Ryan was still staring at his hands, unable to meet Colin’s eyes. His emotions were all piling up on him; his breathing was becoming short and ragged, and he hung his head, closing his eyes briefly. His whole body was still trembling, and he could feel his throat getting tight. Blinking rapidly in an attempt to control himself, Ryan concentrated on the anger. It was familiar and safe, at least. “I’m gonna fucking kill that bastard for this! I swear, he won’t get away with it...” “I know, Ry. When I get my hands on him, I swear to God I’m gonna tear him apart. I want to rip that fucking smirk right off his face. I want to cut off his balls and feed ‘em to him. He fucking deserves it.” Smiling grimly at the image this brought to mind, Colin looked worriedly at Ryan, who was conspicuously silent. “Ryan? You okay?” “I just wanted to make him stop,” Ryan suddenly said, his voice choked with emotion. “But I couldn’t...they kept hurting you, and he just wouldn’t stop! And I...I couldn’t...oh, God, Colin...” Words turned into racking sobs as Ryan dissolved into tears. He drew away, hiding his face in shame, but Colin pulled him close again. “It’s all right, please, let me help you. I’m so sorry, Ryan. So sorry...” Ryan hid his face in the crook of Colin’s neck, wrapping his arms around the shorter man’s back. Colin held him, stroking his back and carding his fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck. It was heartbreaking to hear Ryan sobbing like this, but Colin preferred it to the eerie withdrawal his friend had gone through first. Ryan cried for a long time before finally tapering off, subsiding into little hiccups and long, ragged sighs. Colin felt his eyelids drooping, and wondered what time it was. They had no way of knowing, really, but it felt late. A wistful look came across Colin face as he thought of his watch, lying safely on the bathroom counter in his home, where he had forgotten to retrieve it after his shower. Both the shower and his home felt very far away now. Ryan was making little smacking sounds with his lips as he nuzzled against Colin’s neck, already half-asleep. Colin smiled softly at his friend, thinking that this cuddling could be downright pleasant under different circumstances. Now, though, it was absolutely necessary. They both needed the comfort, and in the chilly basement, they also needed the shared body heat. Shivering slightly, Colin pressed his body more firmly against Ryan’s, rolling until the taller man was nearly lying on top of him. The warm, solid weight sent a strangely sweet pulling sensation through his chest, and Colin closed his eyes. Ryan was already out, exhaustion having overpowered his mental turmoil. Colin could feel fear poking at the edges of his mind, but he held Ryan a little closer and concentrated on how good the steady rhythm of his friend’s breathing felt against his chest. His body’s need for sleep asserted itself, and Colin drifted away. They were sleeping too soundly to notice the basement door opening slightly. Chris stood there, looking down at his pet, and the other one, the one he needed for control. Interesting how they were all snuggled together. He smiled softly, cold intelligence lighting his blue eyes. It’s good then, that they’re close. He knew that giving them this time together, after his first use of his pet, would make the pet even more dependent on the other one. That will make what’s coming all the more painful. All according to plan. * * * * * Part 4 Ryan’s house, the next morning. Drew froze when he saw the broken glass. Up until that point, he had only been a little irritated. When Colin and Ryan had failed to show up for the rehearsal, there had been confusion and impatience, but not really any worry. When Drew had pulled up to Ryan’s house and seen both his friend’s cars outside, he assumed they were here together. That left him puzzled, but still not really worried. But now, standing at the front door of Ryan’s house and seeing the broken window, Drew felt that first slipping tendril of fear. He put a hand to the door, and it swung inward, pushing the broken glass in front of it along the carpet. Drew paused for a moment, wondering if he should call someone. For all he knew, whoever broke the glass could still be in the house. He listened carefully for the sound of intruders, but got only silence. And for some reason he couldn’t identify, the house just *felt* empty. Drew stepped carefully over the threshold, looking around warily as he avoided treading on any of the razor sharp shards. The house looked basically normal at first glance, until he looked toward the kitchen. One of the high backed wooden chairs was knocked over, lying on its side. Drew moved closer, still staring at the chair. It was interesting, how that one little thing could make the whole room look wrong. He noticed that the salt shaker was also knocked over, and a fan of salt crystals was scattered across the table. Without thinking about it, he pinched some between the thumb and finger of his left hand and threw it over his shoulder. Funny how rational thinking people will revert to superstition when they’re scared. The rest of the first floor looked pretty normal, but Drew could still feel his heart hammering in his ears. That knocked over chair, the spilled salt, the broken glass...something was clearly wrong here. He began moving up the stairs, freezing when one step creaked loudly under his weight. The noise was startling in the silent house, and Drew swallowed, hoping he was right about the house being empty. Ryan’s room was at the top of the stairs, but Drew noticed the guest room first, because there was a broken dresser lying half way through the open door. Frowning, he moved toward it and looked in. The room was a wreck. A mirror on the wall had been broken, for no apparent reason except that it could be done. The small bedside table was overturned, the drawers pulled out and tossed on the bed. The dresser had splintered along the side when it had been thrown to the floor. The raw wood peeked through the cherry finish, and Drew shook his head. He knew Ryan took pride in his home. ##Man, Ryan is gonna be pissed when he sees this...if he sees it. Who did this? And where the hell are Ryan and Colin? This...this doesn’t look good. For either of them.## Swallowing nervously, Drew walked back toward the master bedroom. The door was only slightly ajar, and he pushed it open with a trembling hand. The place was a mess. Clothes, strewn everywhere. More overturned furniture, the bed pulled apart, the closet hanging open. The half-packed suitcases didn’t escape Drew’s notice, either. ##I know they were here, their cars are still outside. So they were here when this happened... Oh God, they’re in real trouble. I can’t...I have to do something. What the hell am I going to do?## Drew stood still, staring helplessly around the trashed room. The casual destruction here was appalling. Whoever did this liked to break things for the sheer enjoyment of it. Wiping a small, chubby hand across his face, Drew wasn’t surprised when it came away sweaty. Someone bad had been here...and that someone might come back. The thought only increased his fear, and Drew backed out of the room, looking around nervously. The house didn’t feel empty anymore. He seemed to sense eyes on him, and Drew ducked his head, hunching his shoulders in a defensive posture. He hurried down the stairs, and then paused, catching sight of the phone mounted on the kitchen wall. Of course. He had to call the police. They would know what to do. Quickly crossing the living room again, Drew picked up the phone, dialing 911 before it registered in his mind that there was no dial tone. Somehow, he wasn’t really surprised. He stared absently at the overturned kitchen chair for a moment before reaching down and quickly putting it back on its legs. That simple action made the room seem saner, and Drew sat heavily in the chair, cupping his chin in his palm. Worry for his two missing friends was clouding his ability to think. ##Okay, focus. Whoever broke in must have done something with them. God, I hope they’re still alive. They have to be alive. They’re more valuable that way. But the kind of people who would break into a house and tear it apart for no reason might not think that way. Oh shit, guys, please be okay. Please? Right. Think. Why would anyone want to hurt Ryan and Colin? People love them. Maybe someone kidnapped them for ransom...no. If they wanted money, they would have asked for it by now. We haven’t gotten any phone calls or letters asking for money. But why else would anyone take them? I mean, nobody has anything against Ryan and Colin, right? Well...probably not. Let me just think about this. Everything was fine at the taping, then they came here, and...the suitcases. On the floor. Half filled with clothes. They were going to Colin’s house! Because of that creepy letter that Ryan got! That has to be it. I mean, shit, he got it just yesterday. Right to his front door. The one with the broken window. Oh, shit. They’re in trouble. What am I going to do?## * * * * * Same time, in the basement Colin was awakened by a hard kick to his already bruised ribs, and his eyes flew open to see Jack’s malicious grin hovering above him. Ryan groaned and put a hand to his back, rolling stiffly into a sitting position. Colin followed suit, putting a protective arm around the taller man as Chris leaned over them. “Well now, didn’t we just look cozy? You two sure you’re not fucking?” Chris asked, smirking knowingly. Colin just stared at him, his eyes darker than usual with anger. Ryan hid his face against Colin’s shoulder for a moment, then narrowed his eyes and glared at Chris, setting his jaw in stubborn defiance. “Awwww...is my pet scared? Gonna pretend to be tough? Well, don’t look to your buddy for help -- he’s not very reliable.” Ryan shook his head, denying the implication, and Chris raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you think you can depend on him? How quickly you forget what happened yesterday. When he just stood there and watched you suffer.” “That’s not true!” Ryan snapped, eyes flashing. “He bit that shithead partner of yours, got away, tried so fucking hard to make you stop, you goddamn little sicko, and you know it!” “Oh really? Didn’t try hard enough, did he? After all, you’re still here.” Chris smiled softly, almost regretfully. He gave Ryan a pitying look. “You really didn’t want to suck me off yesterday, did you? But you did...because of him.” Colin narrowed his eyes, glaring at Chris. “You bastard, he did it because of you, because you forced him--“ “Shut up! I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to my pet,” Chris said silkily, holding Ryan’s gaze with his own. It was like looking into the eyes of a snake -- cold, calculating, and hypnotic. “If he wasn’t here, you would never have done that, right?” Ryan remained silent, but he no longer looked so sure of himself. If it wasn’t for Colin, he would have followed his instinct and bitten right through anything that bastard put in his mouth. “Don’t you remember when we first captured you, and I had my hand on you, right between your legs, grabbing whatever the hell I wanted to grab? Right by the front door, pet? Remember how he just stood there and watched? I think...I think maybe he likes watching.” “No!” Ryan and Colin spoke together, but Colin was alarmed when he heard the tone of Ryan’s voice. It wasn’t outraged denial, like his, but instead sounded confused and maybe the tiniest bit doubtful. He was angry, but...unsure. “Ryan, you know that’s not--“ “Didn’t I tell you to shut up? I don’t like it when my toys don’t obey,” Chris hissed, giving Colin a clearly threatening look. Without warning, he suddenly lashed out with a foot, kicking Ryan in the side. Ryan yelped in pain and hunched over, clutching at the hurt, and Colin shot to his feet, already pulling back a fist. Chris just shook his head and raised an eyebrow, saying, “Try it, and I promise he’ll pay for it. I told you to shut up, and I meant it. Disobedience is not tolerated.” For a moment, Colin almost hit him anyway, but then he pulled back. Sinking back down beside Ryan, he put a concerned hand on his friend’s back, but Ryan waved him off, saying, “I’m okay.” Chris watched the whole exchange with narrowed eyes, still irritated with Colin. This one was necessary, a control device for his pet, but his backtalk was vexing. Chris smiled inwardly, while still keeping the patient, almost sad look on his face. His pet was already looking doubtful, confused...exactly as he had predicted. Chris could feel his breathing quicken in anticipation of what was to come, but he forced himself to go slowly. For this to work, it had to be done just right. “Now pet, you have to admit, he’s been making things more difficult for you since this started. If I didn’t have him to threaten, you might have escaped getting from the house to the van. If he wasn’t here you might have fought, and gotten away. It’s fear for him that’s holding you back. You don’t want him to be hurt. Kind of ironic, since he has no problem seeing you being hurt.” Colin’s jaw dropped in indignation and he leaned forward, clenching his fists. Chris only raised an eyebrow at him, and said, “You see? There he is now, about to say something more, when he knows I don’t like him backtalking. And who do you think will pay for his impertinence? Why, you will, my pet. And he knows it. Yet still, he talks. He doesn’t care about you.” Ryan turned to glance at Colin, who snapped his jaw shut. He wanted so badly to deny the accusation, to scream at this bastard, but he was neatly trapped. If he said anything now, Ryan would think Chris was right. Ryan shook his head after a moment, glaring up at Chris. “That’s not true. He’s my best friend. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” “Oh really?” Chris replied softly. “Is that so? Well, we’re about to find out.” Chris nodded to Jack and Ben, and they quickly hauled Colin to his feet. Jack slid his knife along Colin’s forearm, barely scratching the surface and leaving blood to well up like a string of crimson pearls. Hissing in pain, Colin yanked the arm away, glaring at his captors. Ryan jumped up, fists clenched, angry green eyes fixed on the blood dripping down Colin’s arm. He opened his mouth to yell at Jack, but Chris didn’t give him a chance to speak. “Hush, pet, unless you want to make it worse. Besides, he deserves it for what he’s about to do to you.” Ryan just looked at him in confusion, either not understanding the suggestion or not wanting to understand, but Colin felt a sliver of fear pierce his chest as the possible implications of that statement hit home. “I’m not going to do anything to Ryan,” Colin snapped, emphasizing his friend’s name. He hated how Chris insisted on calling him ‘pet.’ “Oh, but you are. You’re going to prove me right, by betraying him in the worst possible way. You’re going to fuck him,” Chris added with a gleeful laugh. There was a shocked pause, and then Colin breathed, “My God, you’re insane.” Chris stepped close to Ryan, staring him in the eyes. Ryan moved back, keeping some distance from the man who had assaulted him less than twenty-four hours ago. The solid wooden post thunked into his back, halting his retreat, and Ryan bit his lip nervously, trying not to look as scared as he felt. Chris brought out his own knife with a practiced flick of his wrist and traced it gently along the contours of Ryan’s face. He continued to stare into those frightened green eyes, but he addressed his words to Colin. “Such a pretty face...would be a shame to ruin it. But I will -- don’t doubt that for a second. I can cut him for hours...I’m very good at what I do. Before I’m done with him he’ll be begging for death. And you...you get to watch it happen.” Colin felt his breathing catch in his throat as he saw the flash of terror in Ryan’s eyes. “Just like you’re watching now. I can make my pet bleed so much...you don’t realize how much blood is in a person, do you? You’ll find out. He’s quiet now, trying to be tough, but I can make him scream. Did you know that in the extremes of pain, a man’s scream is very much like a woman’s? I can bring him to that point so fast, or I can make it slow. I can keep him there, on the edge of consciousness, awake to feel the pain, for hours. You’ll see, and you’ll just stand there. See, pet?” he said, addressing Ryan again. “See how he just stands there and watches? Such a simple thing I’m asking him to do, to save you this pain, and yet he refuses.” “Stop it! Leave him alone!” Colin winced at the edge of panic in his voice, struggling against the men who were still holding him. “You can stop this anytime you want. You just have to do as I say...you want to anyway. I see the way you look at him, don’t even try to deny it.” Colin was shaking his head furiously, desperately trying to get away from Jack and Ben. They held him, seemingly without effort, and he could only watch helplessly as the blade began to draw blood from a spot under Ryan’s jaw. Ryan stiffened, trying to pull away from the painful contact, but Chris stayed with him, applying steady pressure. As Colin looked on in horror, the knife began to dig deeper, sliding down Ryan’s throat. It wasn’t deep enough to cut anything major, but that could change at any second. Blood was beginning to soak the top of Ryan’s shirt, and his eyes were wide, staring helplessly at the knife. “So, are you just going to watch me hurt him?” Chris asked, actually sounding curious. He asked the question the same way he might have asked whether Colin preferred coffee or tea -- as if the answer really didn’t matter to him either way. The complete lack of feeling in his voice was the last straw for Colin. He realized then that this man wasn’t bluffing. He really would torture and kill Ryan if he didn’t get the cooperation he wanted. “No! Don’t hurt him! Please...just stop it!” “Then you’ll do what I say?” Chris asked, still calmly curious. Like a scientist monitoring the outcome of a routine experiment. “Yes, goddammit, anything, just stop it!” Chris immediately removed the blade, allowing Ryan to put a hand to the long, shallow cut. Blood seeped out past his fingers as he gingerly applied pressure, wincing with pain. Colin stared helplessly at his friend, terrified of what he had just agreed to. Chris waved Colin over, nodding at Jack and Ben to release him. Colin rushed to Ryan’s side, but stopped short when he saw the wariness in his friend’s eyes. That Ryan could actually be frightened of him tore at Colin’s heart, but there was no time for reassurance. Chris felt adrenalin shoot through his body as the critical step arrived. The older one, the control device, had agreed to cooperate, but saying and doing are two different things. He would need prodding and instruction to make the betrayal complete. Catching the wariness in his pet’s eyes, Chris felt a flash of triumph. Already the pet was unsure, doubting, frightened. It was like cracking a safe. There are tough cracks and easy cracks, but no impossible cracks. The friendship between his two captives was a tough one, but Chris had his chisel in place and had lifted that first vital corner. Now it was just a matter of working a little further in. The time for slow, careful manipulation was over. He had to keep things moving quickly before his pet could stop and think. Chris noticed that the control captive was in no condition to carry out his orders, and he smirked slightly. Now he knew where to begin. “Now, pet, I think he needs a little help to...ah, get ready.” Smirking, Chris directed a meaningful look at Colin’s groin, and then looked pointedly at Ryan. “Why don’t you give him a...hand?” When Ryan didn’t move, Chris lifted the knife again, his eyes narrowing in impatience. Colin couldn’t stand to watch helplessly while Ryan was hurt -- not again. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed his best friend’s bloodied hand, placing it firmly against his crotch. Ryan’s eyes fixed on Colin’s in shock, and his jaw dropped. “I’m sorry...God, I’m so sorry, but we have to, Ry. Please, I can’t just let him hurt you.” Colin tried to communicate with his eyes; tried to assure Ryan that he wouldn’t respond to the touch. He had no intention of actually betraying his best friend in such a way. If he could just keep from responding, then Chris would have no choice but to give up. Wouldn’t he? Or would he just hurt Ryan because Colin didn’t follow his orders? Colin shook his head in frustration. He would just have to go through the motions, act like he was trying to cooperate, and maybe Chris would be satisfied with that. And maybe he would kill Ryan in a fit of frustration. Colin had no way of knowing, no way of predicting what this dangerous psychopath would do. At that moment, Colin felt completely trapped -- all his options were bad. “You see? You see how he starts it? Now, undo his pants, and go to work. You know your job, and so does he.” The smooth tenor voice was calm and certain, and Ryan found himself believing it. Like a man in a trance, he obeyed, slipping his hand into Colin’s loose fitting pants and beginning to stroke him. Glancing down, Colin could see Ryan’s blood on the light material, like a scarlet mark of his guilt. “Ryan, don’t listen to him.” Pausing a moment, Colin leaned a little closer and whispered, “I won’t do this, Ryan, I won’t respond, I just have to pretend to cooperate so he won’t hurt you.” Ryan just looked at him, still confused and wary. “I don’t want to do this...if there was any other way...” Colin’s voice was pleading, desperate, but his body was betraying him. Ryan was surprisingly skilled, and despite his wishes to the contrary, Colin was responding. Ryan felt it and paused, looking at his friend with surprised hurt. Chris saw the expression, and the growing evidence of Colin’s arousal, and he moved in like a shark to the kill. “There! He’s going to use you -- just like I did. That’s all you are to him, to your so-called best friend -- something to be taken advantage of. He doesn’t care about you any more than I do.” Ryan’s emerald eyes filled with tears, and he trembled, looking away and biting his lip. Now there was nowhere safe to run, no one to help him. Even Colin, the man he had trusted more than anyone else, was no longer safe. The fear of being raped again was overpowering his reason, and Ryan felt he could truly understand the term, ‘stabbed in the back.’ He couldn’t believe this...it couldn’t be real. His best friend, the person he always depended on, was actually going to...to rape him? No! Ryan didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence was in the palm of his hand. “Why, Colin? How could you do this to me?” The question was barely whispered through trembling lips. Colin felt a terrible pain slice into his chest as he saw the empty sadness in Ryan’s eyes. Fear followed the pain, and he started speaking very rapidly, desperate to make Ryan understand. “No! Please, you have to believe me, please Ryan, I don’t want to do this!” Instead of replying, Ryan suddenly moved his hand, which had never ceased its gentle stroking. Colin gasped in response, his body reacting even though his mind was desperately trying to avoid it. For Ryan, this was the last straw, and he turned away. The betrayal tasted very bitter indeed, and he swallowed, fear making his mouth dry and cottony. To be frightened of his best friend was more than he could bear, and Ryan felt the first tears slip down his cheeks. He gritted his teeth angrily, shaking his head, still overwhelmed by how deeply Colin had hurt him. Chris smiled triumphantly, and said nothing. His work was done. Ryan had just been neatly cut off from his one source of comfort and support. After such a painful betrayal, Chris was sure their relationship would be permanently broken, leaving him in prime position to pick up the pieces and claim Ryan as his own. Colin felt like his heart was breaking. Ryan’s downcast eyes, his taut, trembling body, and worst of all, his apparent resigned acceptance of his fate -- Colin shook his head vehemently, refusing to allow this to happen. “Ryan? Please, please, look at me. You have to listen, if you’ll just...please! Ryan...if you ever trusted me -- if you ever loved me -- you’ll listen to me now.” Colin held his breath, waiting to see if Ryan would respond. Tears pricked at the back of his eyes, and his throat was tight with emotion -- mostly a paralyzing fear that he’d just lost the best friend he’d ever had. The man he was closest to, the man he loved like a brother...and maybe more. For a long moment, Ryan didn’t move...and then, ever so slowly, he lifted his face to look Colin in the eyes. The terrible blankness in those familiar features was enough to push Colin over the edge, and he began to cry, pleading with Ryan between sobs. “Oh, God, Ryan, I’m so sorry...please, you’ve got to believe me! I would never do this! If there was any other way, any other choice, I would take it! I don’t care what they do to me; I swear I would rather die than hurt you! But I can’t...I can’t let them hurt you. Not when I could do something to stop it! Seeing you suffer and being helpless to stop it...I can’t do that again! “So instead of letting them hurt me you do it yourself?” Ryan interrupted, his voice shaking. “Oh, that’s just so much fucking better, isn’t it!” “No, Ryan! Please, please, hear what I’m saying. When that bastard was...forcing you, and I couldn’t do anything -- never again, Ryan! I would do anything to save you from that...even this.” Colin’s voice broke again as he choked out the words. Dropping his hands in a gesture of hopelessness, he continued in a low, sad voice, “But it’s for you. Not for me...never! Please, I...I’m so sorry. If there was any other way, I swear I would take it. Anything! To keep from doing this...please, you just have to believe me! Listen to me! Oh, Ryan...please...” Colin trailed off, and buried his face in his hands, muffling the choked sobs. He almost didn’t hear the tiny, faint voice when it said, “I believe you.” “What?” The question came from two men, Chris in angry disbelief and Colin in trembling hope. “I said, I believe you,” Ryan repeated, staring into Colin’s eyes. Unable to speak, Colin only widened his eyes, silently asking for more. “That you would do this...risk everything, to keep me from getting hurt...” Ryan was shaking his head in disbelief, and he added, “I never should have doubted you.” Colin felt relief wash over him in a numbing wave, and he sagged, his knees nearly buckling. “Ryan...oh, God, Ryan...” Suddenly, words were just not enough, and Colin threw himself into Ryan’s open arms, clinging to the slender frame with all his might. Ryan held him just as tight, and both men spoke at once, whispering nonsense to each other. “I was so scared...so sorry...thought I’d lost you...love you...” Ryan’s words were muffled against Colin’s shoulder, but the older man understood them perfectly. Mostly because he was mumbling the same things into Ryan’s neck. This might have gone on for a long time had they not been forcefully yanked apart. Jack was holding Colin, and Chris twisted Ryan’s arms painfully behind his back, snarling furiously in his ear. “You think you’re so fucking clever, huh? You’re not so smart, you little slut, cause now you’re *really* in for it!” Jabbing a finger in Colin’s direction, he snapped, “Get that crybaby outta here...I need some time alone with my pet.” “No! Ryan...” Colin protested, reaching for his friend. Ryan tried to move toward him, only to be brutally jerked back by Chris. He reached out with one long arm, his fingertips brushing against Colin’s outstretched hand for a brief moment. Jack and Ben were busily undoing the ankle chain that held Colin in place, and soon they were dragging him away. Colin kept his eyes on Ryan, his hand still out as if they could touch one last time, and called out again, “Don’t let him get to you! I’ll find a way to get you out of here, I swear! I love you, Ryan!” “I lo--“ Ryan’s reply was cut short when Chris slapped a hand over his mouth, but Colin heard enough. As he was pulled quickly away, he kept his eyes fixed on Ryan, desperately clinging to the sight. Chris had Ryan’s arms twisted behind his back and was whispering something in his ear -- something bad, judging by the look on Ryan’s face. Their eyes met one last time, and Colin felt something wrench inside him. He was scared of where he was going, and what was going to happen to him, but he was even more scared for Ryan, being left alone with that raving psychotic. Colin kicked desperately, twisting his body, trying to get away, but the two men held on grimly, dragging his struggling form through the basement. Colin couldn’t see Ryan anymore, only the glow of light getting further away by the second. God only knew what that bastard was doing to him... But Colin knew, he’d known all along that it would come to this, as soon as he saw the possessive way Chris touched Ryan, the desire in his cold eyes, and the knowledge only made him fight harder, thrashing helplessly. There was no fucking way he could just let that happen! He had to get back there and help Ryan, had to do something... Colin clenched his fists in helpless frustration, hating his inability to act. He was useless to Ryan now...just as he had been all along. No matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to win. Colin kept his eyes trained on that dwindling point of light, until the two thugs dragged him around a corner and into darkness once again. He was brought through a narrow doorway into another part of the seemingly endless basement, and his ankle was chained to a conveniently positioned metal ring in the wall. Jack leaned into him, thrusting a hand into Colin’s still-open pants. Struggling only got his wrists cuffed to the wall, and soon he was helplessly bound. Jack continued to grope him, but Colin noted with grim satisfaction that the man kept a careful distance from his mouth. Ben, looking on with a voyeuristic smile, nodded at Colin and said, “Be glad you’re in here with us. Cause Chris is really pissed, and he gets a little crazy when he’s mad.” Wanting to lash out because of his worry over Ryan, Colin very nearly made a smart remark, but bit it back. This was probably not the time to be a smartass. Instead, he asked, “What do you mean?” Jerking a thumb over his shoulder to indicate Ryan, Ben replied, “I just mean your friend is in big trouble. I hope you got a good look at him before you left, cause chances are, you’re never going to see him again.” Colin tried not to look as horrified as he felt. This was exactly what he had feared the most. Never seeing Ryan again...he couldn’t stand the thought of it. Ryan had been his best friend for nearly half his life, his confidante, his trusted companion; the one man he could say ‘I love you’ to with complete honesty. His mind was conjuring up all kinds of terrible images about what that bastard might be doing to his Ryan... Chris, forcing himself into Ryan, cutting him with the knife...Ryan’s blood soaking into the hard dirt floors...those sweet, familiar eyes dulling as the spirit faded into despair... Colin shuddered, trying -- and failing -- to push away the appalling thoughts. Jack must have seen the abject misery in his eyes, because he smiled vindictively, leaning in as close as he dared. “That’s what you get, isn’t it? Serves you right, you little fucking biter...you should’ve just fucked him like Chris said. Now he’s going to suffer more than you can possibly imagine -- and its all...your...fault!” Jack emphasized each word with a hard thump on Colin’s chest, grinning with gleeful malice. The words echoed in his mind...’all your fault.’ Colin gritted his teeth, feeling the guilt like a weight on his shoulders. Colin could see Ryan in his mind again, reaching out for him, desperate, and he couldn’t help but think he should have just cooperated. Done what Chris wanted, and then maybe they would still be together. But that was no good...the only real solution would be if he wasn’t here. Then that bastard couldn’t use him against Ryan. If he wasn’t there, none of this would ever have happened. Colin shuddered, slumping his shoulders just a little more. He would just have to do something, find a way to get out of here, anything but just standing here and feeling guilty. Blinking a few times, Colin shook himself, looking around the room so he wouldn’t have to meet Jack’s leering gaze. He couldn’t help but feel that this place was too huge to just be a basement. It seemed to be a whole underground complex, all with dirt floors and occasional hanging bulbs leaving islands of light in the sea of darkness. Jack and Ben clearly knew their way around, and Colin wondered just how many people were brought down here. The whole place looked to be set up deliberately to hold and control captives. There were heavy iron rings embedded in the dirt floor and the concrete walls, with chains and manacles hanging from them. Colin felt a sense of unreality looking at them, since they looked like a fake prop out of a medieval movie or something. He wondered briefly where one would go to buy chains and manacles. Maybe Chris had them custom made or something. He certainly had the money, if this place was any indication, and the necessary dedication. Colin felt a wry smile twitch at his lips at the thought -- dedication. Yeah, that was one way of putting it. Another, more accurate way would be insanity. The very thought of Ryan being trapped alone with that madman made his stomach turn, and he smacked a palm against the wall behind him in frustration. He looked around the room again, as if some magical way to escape would appear if he just searched hard enough. But he only saw Jack and Ben, staring at him. Jack’s vindictive smile was slipping away, to be replaced by raw, possessive desire, and Colin shuddered. He suddenly had a rather disturbing idea of what those rings in the floor were used for. An image came to mind, unbidden and unwanted: his arms chained to those rings, ankles equally bound to the floor, his back arched as he thrashed helplessly on his hands and knees, while Jack-- No. Colin pushed the thought from his mind as hard as he could. But another glance at the look on Jack’s face brought it back again -- the man was looking at the iron rings and licking his lips, as if he knew exactly what Colin was thinking. Colin shook his head in helpless denial, and found himself looking to Ben, who had so far been the least violent one, for help. Ben was also staring at him, seeming enthralled, but he didn’t have the same leer as Jack did. His smallish pudgy frame made him look less threatening, but Colin hadn’t forgotten the way he looked at Chris -- with admiration that bordered on hero-worship. Seeing the pleading glance, Ben only smiled sadly and shrugged. “Jack’s right, y’know. You should’ve listened to Chris. He’s the smartest man I know, and he *always* gets what he wants. You should never try to fight him -- it only makes things worse.” Stepping to the doorway, Ben glanced back in Ryan’s direction, cocking his head in a listening posture. Jack did the same, and Colin felt his stomach leap into his throat as the sound of screaming echoed through the basement. The screams were constant, sounding like someone in terrible pain. They were also unmistakably Ryan’s. Colin’s eyes widened and he twisted his body, whipping back and forth in a futile effort to escape his bonds. He didn’t know what he could do, but he couldn’t just sit there and listen to his friend in such pain and do nothing! He had to get away, even if it meant ripping his fucking arm off to get out of these chains. “What the fuck is that bastard doing to him?” Colin breathed, shuddering and thrashing against his chains again as the screams reached a new pitch. Jack only smirked, and Ben looked at him earnestly, like a teacher explaining something to a rather slow student. “Chris is *very* good at what he does. He’s the best...the master. I wouldn’t want to be in your friend’s place right now...cause *nobody* balks Chris and gets away with it. Nobody.” Ben cocked his head again, a small smile curving his lips, like he was actually enjoying the harsh screaming. Then, suddenly and without warning, the sounds stopped. Complete silence fell again as Colin tried not to think what the sudden stop might mean. Ryan was all right. Ryan HAD to be all right. But of course, no one screams like that when they’re all right. At least Ryan was alive. Or had been, a few seconds ago. But no...Colin refused to even think that way. Ryan was alive. Colin fixed that one imperative in his mind. Ryan was alive, and Colin was going to find a way to get him out. That was the only way. Ryan being anything but alive...simply not an option. Colin felt like crying again. His chest tightened and he blinked rapidly, swallowing in an effort to maintain control. He was still shaking his head, trying desperately to deny the reality of the situation. Everything that had happened in the last day -- Is that all it’s been? A day? -- had taught him that these men were capable of anything. But he still didn’t want to believe it -- not about Ryan. Colin kicked the wall behind him, yanking helplessly at the chains once again. He wanted so damn badly to get away from here, to act, to fight back. He could feel his heartbeat rushing in his ears, and his legs felt rubbery -- the tortured screams were still echoing in his mind. But even worse was the way those screams had stopped so suddenly; he almost wished he could hear them again, just to know Ryan was alive. Colin struggled uselessly against the bonds, causing Jack to laugh derisively. “You’re not going anywhere...and don’t be so worried about your little slut of a friend.” Colin’s dark eyes flashed furiously at this label, and Jack laughed again before he continued, “He is! Didn’t you see the way he took Chris in his mouth? He was fucking loving it! Right now, he’s probably taking it up the ass and getting off on it! So quit thinking about him. You have more...pressing...concerns.” Jack lifted his eyebrows suggestively and began undoing Colin’s pants. When Colin thrashed against the wall, making it as difficult as possible, Jack pulled the knife again. “Don’t you cut him! He’s going to be mine, don’t forget...I’ll get Chris!” Ben shook his finger warningly at Jack, looking for all the world like a child threatening to tell the teacher. “Relax, Benny...I’m just gonna change his sense of style a bit. He’s...overdressed.” With that, Jack swiftly sliced through Colin’s pants, still marked by that bloody handprint at the crotch, tossing the ruined shreds in the corner. He made quick work of the shirt as well, and soon Colin was left shivering in his boxer shorts. He turned his body in an effort to cover his exposed skin, his face burning. Jack lifted his hands as if to remove Colin’s shorts, and then paused, casting a quick glance back at Ben. “You’re so worried about me hurting him...why don’t you do this?” Ben’s eyes widened in disbelief, and he grinned like a kid getting a sudden surprise gift. “I thought...Chris said I only get him after he’s done with the other one. Won’t he be mad?” Ben obviously wanted to take Jack up on the offer, but his unswerving loyalty to Chris was holding him back. Colin watched all this silently, dreading the moment when he would be fully naked in front of these men. Already, he felt more vulnerable, and the sense of helplessness was only growing. He actually hoped it would be Ben who eventually did the honors...he seemed like he would at least try to do it gently. “Chris wants him naked. It’ll make him more cooperative. C’mon, Benny...you know you want to. He’s gonna be yours anyway, this is just a little...sneak preview.” Jack’s voice was wheedling and persistent, and Ben gave in. Stepping forward and giggling excitedly, he carefully pulled the shorts down, cutting them away where they were blocked by the ankle chains. Colin was now completely stripped, and he felt the blood rush to his skin, sending a flush from the tips of his ears to the top of his chest. Being naked in front of fully dressed strangers was an incredibly embarrassing, incredibly vulnerable feeling, and Colin instinctively tried to hide behind his hands. They were still chained to the wall, so he could only make an abortive half-movement as he turned his body, feeling their eyes raking over his bare skin. Ben was gaping at him, looking completely enthralled. Jack smiled in satisfaction, and moved on to the next step. He was determined to repay Colin for biting him, and for getting him in trouble with Chris. He just had to get Ben to play along. “Let’s touch him, Benny. Just a little bit.” Ben started shaking his head, ready to voice yet another nervous objection. “C’mon, we’ve already touched him! When Chris was doing the other one earlier, I was touching him! It’s okay as long as we don’t kill him. That’s the only hard and fast rule...at least, until he’s not needed anymore.” Colin looked nervously between Jack and Ben, panic rising in his belly, making his heartbeat echo rapidly in his ears. To be discussed this way, like a piece of meat on display, was both terrifying and degrading. “Don’t listen to him, Benny! Chris said not to! You have to...he’ll be mad!” Colin was desperate, but his strident, demanding tone was a mistake. Jack leapt on it immediately, turning the pleading to his advantage. “Are you going to let him tell you what to do? You’re the boss of him, Benny! He’s just property -- Chris said so! You can do anything you want to him!” “Yeah! You can’t tell me what to do!” Ben answered, gaining courage from Jack’s relentless badgering. Like a kid performing a dare, he lightly traced a hand over Colin’s bare abdomen, then yanked it back and looked around nervously, as if afraid of getting caught. Jack clapped him on the back in congratulations, nodding encouragingly. “See? He’s yours...what do you want to do with him?” When Ben shrugged, Jack stepped in and cupped a hand on Colin’s ass, saying, “You want to do this? Cause you can, y’know. Go ahead...I’ll help you.” Licking his lips in excitement, Ben followed Jack’s lead, allowing his hand to rest firmly on the rounded flesh. Colin tried to jerk away, but the chains kept him still, and he had no choice but to tolerate it. Jack’s hand was cool and dry; Ben’s warm and sweaty. Colin trembled, trying again to pull away. His already rapid breathing speeded up a little more and his stomach lurched nauseatingly. He wanted to beg them to stop, but he was afraid that would just give Jack more ammunition to use against him. Jack gritted his teeth, impatient with the slow process of getting Ben to cooperate. He decided he didn’t have time for this shit, and went straight for the goal, knowing Ben was gullible enough to go along. “Hey!” Jack exclaimed, as if he’d just had a great idea. “I know what we can do! Let’s fuck him!” Colin easily saw through the weak acting job, but Ben seemed to eat it up. It was obvious this had been Jack’s goal from the start, and he was just manipulating Ben to get what he wanted, but the hapless young man didn’t realize it. “Oh, I don’t know, Jack--“ “Come on! We’ll use the chains to get him on the floor...we won’t have to hurt him at all! Don’t you want to?” “Well...” Ben was clearly giving in, and Colin couldn’t help himself anymore. He just couldn’t stand by silently while they discussed their plans to rape him. “No!” Colin begged, looking earnestly at Ben. “Please...it *will* hurt me! You can’t do this! Please--“ “He’s doing it again!” Jack snapped, cutting him off. “He’s trying to give you orders again. Are you going to let him get away with that? Well, are you?” Ben seemed to puff with pride, and he stuck his chin out stubbornly. “No, I’m not! I can do anything I want to you...pet!” The dominant statement was ruined by the way he kept giggling, but Ben was still terrifying to Colin. He struggled desperately as the two men moved him to a hands-and-knees position on the floor, attaching his wrists and ankles to more of those conveniently placed iron rings. Colin was painfully aware that this was exactly what he had imagined happening. Then Ben’s clumsily probing fingers began sliding down his back, and all rational thought was pushed aside. **No! Oh God, please, this can’t be happening! Stop...Ryan, help me! Make them go away! Don’t let them touch me anymore -- I can’t stand it! Shit! I have to get away somehow...I can’t let this happen! Please, no... Oh God, he’s getting too damn close...those hands all over me...no fucking way! I can feel him trying to get in...stop it, you fucking bastard!** Colin struggled as much as possible against his bonds, twisting his body in an effort to avoid the invasive touches. Jack was holding him still, the strong hands digging painfully into his hips. Ben was nervous, but excited, and he kept trying to position his body behind Colin and insistently prodding at the struggling man with his fingers. Colin clamped himself shut, fighting with everything he had, but Ben was persistent and he managed to slide first one, and then two fingers inside. **Holy fucking Christ, no! Can't breathe, fuck it hurts. Get the fuck away from me! Leave me alone you goddamn shit-for-brains idiotic bastard! Stop this! You won't get to me -- I’ll never let you win! God, I can’t just let this happen... Have to fight it... Oh God, no matter what I do, he won't stop, won't get out of my own goddamn body. Please, *please* someone make them stop this... STOP touching me damn it! Just get away from me... Please, help, someone... You can’t do this! You just can’t...please...just stop... I can’t...this can’t happen to me! No...NO!** Colin was losing the fight. His panicked thrashing was slowly diminishing as terror sapped his energy. Ben still hadn’t managed to penetrate with anything other than his fingers, but he inevitably would. Colin was gasping for breath, sobbing and pleading incoherently with them to stop. Ben was too excited and aroused to listen to the pleading, his breath coming in short panting gasps, his mouth open and his tongue protruding slightly. Jack only grinned vindictively as he enjoyed Colin’s misery. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The cold voice from the doorway froze all three of them in place, and then Colin quickly twisted his body, pulling away from Ben’s grasping hands and insistent prodding. But this time, Ben didn’t remount -- instead, he sat back on his heels and gave Chris a deer-in-the-headlights look. “I...he...it was Jack’s idea!” Ben pointed accusingly at Jack, and then sheepishly hurried to pull up his pants, casting nervous looks at Chris the whole time. “You little shit! You wanted to do him! It’s not like I fucking twisted your arm--“ “I don’t want to hear it,” Chris interrupted, holding up a hand. “And don’t worry, you’ll be able to do whatever you want with him soon enough. Once my pet is broken, I won’t need him for control anymore.” Ben nodded quickly, happy that he wasn’t being punished for his actions. Jack just rolled his eyes and snorted derisively, muttering something that sounded a lot like ‘fucking pathetic little pup.’ “What was that?” Chris asked, his eyes hard. “Nothing, boss. Nothing at all,” Jack hastened to reply, glaring at Ben. “Right,” Chris continued, “that’s why I came to get you two. My pet it either going to be broken -- or he’s going to die in the process. Either way, you should see it. It’ll be a real...learning experience.” Ben nodded eagerly, moving toward Chris, his body language that of a dog that knows it has misbehaved. Jack waited until Chris looked away to roll his eyes. Chris gave Colin a long look, taking in the trembling nakedness and the tears still drying on his face. He smiled faintly, raising an appreciative eyebrow. “Not bad...when I’m done with my pet, I may just take a turn with you myself. For now, you might as well stay in that position...you’re going to be spending a lot of time that way, and you should get used to it.” He turned to leave, and then paused as a thought occurred to him. Looking back over his shoulder, Chris said, “Oh, and don’t even think about seeing him again. One way or another, the man you knew as Ryan Stiles is going to die. When I break him, he’ll be a different creature altogether -- not a man anymore, but simply a toy for my amusement and pleasure. And if he proves too stubborn and is no longer worth the effort...” Chris drew a finger across his throat, leaving no question as to his intentions. With that chilling promise, he walked out, his men trailing in his wake. Colin was left alone, naked and shivering, still trembling from the near rape. His mind was flying in a million directions at once, and he collapsed to the ground, shaking helplessly and sobbing in despair. **No...please...this can’t be real. Oh God...Ryan...They want to take him away from me. They can’t...oh, God, what am I going to do? I have to do something, save him. Save myself... What if they come back and... Shit. This is getting me nowhere, but if they touch me again...I couldn't stand it! God I just want to go home. Oh, Ryan, where are you? Please be okay... wherever you are, you better be okay. I’m so scared...I need you. I wish I could hold you again... I need to know you're okay. I need to feel you and I need you to hold me too. They wouldn’t stop... Their hands were all over and he was going to... God just fucking STOP thinking about it! What are they doing to you? If they...I'll kill them. I couldn’t stand to lose you. Not my Ryan! I can’t let them... I can’t...please, just get me out of here. Someone help me...I can’t stand to be so alone. It’s so cold...please...I want to go home.** * * * Interlude Chris smiled faintly to himself as he watched his pet sleep. Normally he didn’t allow his pets to sleep more than an hour at a time, but this one had earned it. Chris could still feel the echoes of pleasure in his body. The first time, thrusting himself into the trembling, struggling body of a new pet, was always the best. Chris thrived on the taking, the control, the blood. It was so sweet to know that this person, this real human being, was merely a toy for him to play with. And to break, if he so chose. What made the orgasm that much more intense was this feeling, this feeling of complete and total control over a human being, the fact that he was HIS to play with, HIS to hurt, HIS to make a slut out of. The pet’s feelings didn’t matter; all that mattered was his own physical pleasure. He could remember how the pet had screamed, the pain written in every inch of his body. And the best part was that he put that pain there. The pet was his to hurt, his to control and possess. He could do whatever he wanted. And he had wanted this pet for so long. But Chris was a patient man, careful and deliberate, and now it was paying off. His plans had worked perfectly. Well...except for that fuck-up with the older one. That still stung a bit. Chris had underestimated the strength of his captives’ bond, and that irked him. Usually he could predict exactly how his toys would react, and manipulate them like puppets. His pet forgiving the other one had only strengthened their connection, and Chris knew that could mean trouble. He was confident in his ability to break the current pet -- provided he had nothing to hold on for. But now...well, separating them was clearly the only way to go. If he couldn’t break them up emotionally, then it had to be done physically. That wasn’t as effective though, and Chris frowned slightly. Now that the pet had something to hold on to, something to fight for, he might not be so easy to break. Chris knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew how to read his pets, but this one was a challenge. Forgiving the older one after Chris had carefully orchestrated that beautiful betrayal had really thrown his plans. So he really couldn’t be sure if the pet would break. There was still time, of course. Plenty of time to play, to push, to hurt. To see exactly what made this pet tick, and what made him crack. And if, in the end, he simply refused to break, then he would have to be killed. Regrettable, but these things happen. Maybe he could bring back the other one, the control one, and make his pet watch as he was worked over by the boys. They clearly wanted to do it, if the little scene he had walked in on earlier was any indication. As far as Chris was concerned, raping someone was the worst possible thing that could be done to them. He took pride in knowing that he was inflicting the most painful, most damaging thing possible on his pets. And if that was done to the control captive, his usefulness would be lost. Still...being forced to watch that done to someone he was so close to would certainly be damaging to his pet. It was tricky, because it might break him, or it might just strengthen his resolve, making him hate Chris even more. Chris had the feeling that this particular pet would respond with anger. Shrugging, he filed the possibility away for later use. There were still many other tricks to try before he resorted to permanently damaging the older one. Right now, Chris didn’t know what would happen. He didn’t know if the pet would break in a few days, or a few weeks, or never. He didn’t know if he would have a new toy or simply be forced to kill again. And wouldn’t knowing spoil the fun? * * * * * Part 5 Colin had completely lost track of time. He felt sure that he had been down here for days, but his time sense was all screwed up. He had no frame of reference, no night and day, the meals were small and erratic, the sleep was often interrupted, and time stretched out interminably. If he had to guess, Colin would say he’d been here for a couple weeks, but that was probably way off. The small room where he was held captive was always the same -- bare concrete walls, earthen floor, single unadorned bulb hanging overhead, casting harsh light over his bare body. Colin wished they would turn the light off sometimes; he hated feeling so exposed. Sometimes he thought he heard Ryan’s screams again, but that might have just been in his mind. Lack of food and sleep was making Colin dazed and barely coherent. At first, he had counted the times that they came in to feed him, hoping to keep track of time that way. But the feeding was so erratic and rare that it made a poor timekeeper. Sometimes they would make him wait for what seemed like days, but was probably only hours. His hunger only stretched out the time. Other times they would wake him up to feed him, when it seemed like he had just fallen asleep. Exhaustion constantly dragged at the edges of his mind, making everything fuzzy and unreal. Coherent thought often gave way to a basic, animalistic survival. It was all about getting enough to eat, finding a way to get some rest while still chained in an upright position, catching every drop of water that they teasingly drizzled down his face. Water was especially important. They never gave him enough, and Colin usually felt like he had a rusty razor blade in his throat. Swallowing was incredibly painful. He wished they would call him by his name once in a while...it was always ‘pet’ or some other epithet. Colin felt like he was losing his identity. Like he wasn’t a person anymore...more like an animal. His thoughts never seemed to make much sense, and they tended to revolve around somehow killing these monsters and getting to Ryan. His mind seemed to...to tilt, almost, and Colin understood that true lunacy was perhaps not that far away. Sometimes he would feel like crying, in frustration and fear, worry for Ryan, but tears wouldn’t come. His body refused to waste the liquid. He lived in fear of Jack and Ben returning to finish what they had started. So far, they hadn’t actually raped him, but they talked of little else. Every time they entered the room to give him a little water, or some tiny bit of food, he had to endure their touches and snide remarks. Ben was growing bolder, but Colin noticed that the slow-witted man never entered the room alone. Jack was always there to chaperone, and Colin felt the smallest sliver of hope. If he could somehow get Ben alone and talk to him, he might be able to con the gullible man. It hadn’t escaped Colin’s notice that Ben wanted to touch him very badly, and he thought if he could appeal to that desire, he could overcome Ben’s already shaky common sense. “Hey now sweet thing,” Jack’s crude voice called, snapping Colin out of his thoughts. “You’re looking a bit cold...maybe Benny and I should warm you up, hmmm?” Jack entered the room like he owned the place, with Ben trailing in his wake, his eyes roving over Colin’s exposed skin. Colin glared at them, but kept his mouth shut. Every time he spoke, he was punished, usually with a thorough groping. Or more. Colin gritted his teeth, clamping his jaw firmly shut as he remembered what had happened the last time he had spoken. * * * “Get the fuck away from me, you disgusting piece of shit!” Colin spat the words out, glaring at Jack, who had a hand sliding up his inner thigh. He also managed to shoot out a little saliva, catching Jack just below the left eye. Pretty remarkable, considering how thirsty he was, but it was worth it to watch Jack pull back in disgust. Colin grinned at him, showing so many teeth that it was more of a snarl. “Oh, you’re gonna pay for that one, fuckhead,” Jack snapped, and quickly began rearranging the chains. They went through a complicated system of rings and locks, so that it was possible to move Colin around the room without ever actually taking the chains off his arms and legs. Colin thrashed, struggling, until Jack kneed him in the groin. He doubled over as best he could with his restraints, sucking in a gasping breath through clenched teeth. “Hey! You’re not supposed to do that, remember?” Ben said, frowning. He could see that Jack was moving Colin to a hands-and-knees position, and he assumed that Jack was going to try and rape him again. “Shut up, you fucking pup, I know what I’m doing,” Jack replied over his shoulder. Colin was trembling on the floor, still trying to curl in around the pain where Jack had kneed him. Nausea was rolling in his stomach and he swallowed hard, trying to control it. He couldn’t afford to lose any precious food or liquid. Colin’s filthy, naked body was chained firmly in place, and Jack waited until he thought the pain had faded. He wanted to make sure this little fucking biter could feel every second of what he was going to do. Pausing a moment to stare into Colin’s eyes, Jack grinned maliciously at him and pulled a hand back. Then he brought it forward at a punishing speed, his palm landing a stinging strike right on Colin’s ass. Colin jerked in pain, biting his lip to keep from crying out. His eyes widened in disbelief -- this asshole wasn’t actually going to...to spank him, right? He tried to twist his body back and forth, to dodge the blows, but Jack just kept going. Colin felt blood rush to his face as the humiliation sank in, and he lowered his head, staring grimly at the ground. The smacking sounds echoed around the small room, along with Jack’s satisfied grunts and Ben’s giggles. He seemed to think it was the funniest thing he had ever seen. Clenching his teeth and clawing helplessly at the dirt beneath his hands, Colin somehow managed to keep from crying out. The stinging, burning pain only seemed to go up and up, and he could never see when another blow was coming. Jack didn’t keep up a regular rhythm, but instead paused erratically, so that Colin wouldn’t know when to expect another strike. He wasn’t sure how long the degrading experience continued, but when it was finally over he was left trembling. His chest kept hitching, and Colin thought he would probably be crying if his body didn’t need the fluid so much. He gritted his teeth again, glaring over his shoulder at Jack, who was grinning smugly. Colin could feel his muscles practically vibrating with his desire to beat the shit out of that bastard, but the chains kept him still. He didn’t say a word as Jack pulled him back into an upright position against the wall. Not even when his sore, abraded skin brushed against the rough concrete. Jack paused to stare into his eyes, raising an eyebrow to give him a pointed look. “Think about that the next time you want to get smart with me, motherfucker.” * * * Colin hadn’t spoken a word since then. So far his silence had made things easier, although they certainly didn’t leave him alone. There were still gropes and pinches, but Colin kept his mouth shut and tried not to react. There was no point in provoking anything. Some part of him felt guilty for keeping quiet -- it felt a little too much like giving up. Colin shoved the guilt away, telling himself that this was about survival. **Oh is it? Is it really? Or is it just about not getting hurt anymore? Maybe you just don’t want to risk another one of those humiliating spanking sessions. Maybe you’re just fucking lazy. Maybe you’re weak and scared and too damn useless to get Ryan out of this place. Hmmm? You think that could be it?** Colin shushed the whispering voice harshly. He would get Ryan out of here. Somehow. And until then, he needed to stay in relatively good condition. Getting himself beaten, or...anything else...wouldn’t do Ryan any good. And of course he was afraid of getting hurt! There was no shame in that. No one wanted to get hurt. He wasn’t giving up, he was...being practical. Yeah. Practical. Colin told himself that a lot. Nudging Ben with an elbow, Jack nodded toward Colin and said, “Go on, Benny, remember what Chris taught you? Remember the way he did it with--“ Jack stopped suddenly at glanced over his shoulder nervously, and then glared at Colin momentarily. Colin only looked at him in confusion, not sure what was going on. Jack narrowed his eyes, and then seemed to shake off his worry, saying, “That was pretty funny, for a second I was sure he was gonna get bitten.” Ben moved forward, a bit of bread soaked in broth in his hand. He held it up to Colin’s face, waving it enticingly. When Colin leaned forward, unable to resist the appetizing smell, Ben yanked his hand back, grinning and giggling nervously. “Ah ah ah...pet...you have to ask nicely.” Casting a glance over his shoulder to receive an approving look from Jack, Ben turned back to Colin and continued. “You have to say, ‘please may I have some, master Ben?’” Colin set his jaw stubbornly, refusing to play this game. He couldn’t help but notice what Jack had said about ‘Remember the way he did it with...’ Did this mean that Ryan was being fed the same way? That he was still alive and able to eat, at least? Colin concentrated on that thin hope, trying to ignore his stomach’s rumbling. It had been a long time since his last meager feeding, and it was all he could do to keep from desperately trying to snatch the bread from Ben’s hands. “Come on, pet...do as I say...I know you’re hungry. It’s not so much to ask...such a simple thing, to get what you need.” Ben’s cajoling voice was weakening Colin’s resistance, and his pride was losing to his hunger. Telling himself that he needed to stay healthy so he could get out of here, Colin swallowed his pride. “PleasemayIhavesome,masterBen,” he spat through gritted teeth, glaring at his captors. Ben nodded and moved his hand forward, but Jack pulled his arm back just before Colin would have gotten the food. “Now you know Chris wouldn’t let any of *his* pets get away with asking like that. Look at the disobedience in his eyes!” Jack said, indicating Colin’s glare with a wave of his hand. “You need to make him mean it, or it’s no good.” Colin felt anger flare in his belly again as he thought of Ryan being forced to beg this way. Jack’s supercilious attitude had a way of immediately getting under his skin, but Colin was actually glad of the man’s big mouth this time. If Chris was feeding Ryan, then he must be alive. Of course, it was possible that Chris had another pet, or that Jack and Ben were just playing with him, lying about everything -- but Colin refused to think that way. Ryan was alive. Ryan HAD to be alive. Ben turned back to Colin, with a pouting, childish look on his face. “Yeah, you didn’t mean it! You were just pretending to ask nicely. You better say it and mean it, or no food for you!” With a considerable effort, Colin marshaled all of his acting skills and pasted a subservient look on his face. Reminding himself that this was for Ryan, and his own health, Colin asked contritely, “Please may I have some, master Ben?” Accepting the question as sufficiently obsequious, Ben gave him the bread. He pulled another piece from the bowl in Jack’s hands, and then turned again, holding it up. Colin licked his lips, his body already responding to the food by demanding more. He opened his mouth for the next piece, but Ben held back, looking at him expectantly. Colin’s pride tried to well up again when he realized he had to beg for every single bite, but he shoved it back down harshly. Anger for his own humiliation and for the thought of Ryan being treated the same way coursed through Colin’s nerve endings, making his fists clench and his stomach tighten. His dark, intense eyes flashed wildly, but Colin showed no other sign. He had to eat, to maintain his strength, for when he got Ryan out of this place. He didn’t know how he was going to do it, but he thought of little else. Instead of railing helplessly at Ben’s authority, Colin asked nicely for the food again. And again. Every time he had to beg, he felt like he was losing a little piece of himself, but Colin kept going. For Ryan -- always, for Ryan. When the humiliating feeding was over, Ben, very much daring, held out his fingers to Colin and instructed him to lick them clean. Jack raised an eyebrow, apparently surprised at Ben’s initiative, but he smiled approvingly. Colin’s first impulse was to bite, but he knew that would only mean another nauseating groping session -- and maybe more. Closing his eyes for a moment in helpless misery, Colin opened his mouth and allowed the invasive fingers to enter. The foreign flesh in his mouth made his stomach turn, and Colin found himself wondering if this was how Ryan had felt. He didn’t actually lick the fingers -- no amount of swallowing his pride would allow that. Luckily, Ben seemed satisfied with the lack of resistance, and after an intolerably long time, he withdrew his hand. Colin stared at the ground, too humiliated by the whole feeding and finger-cleaning process to meet their eyes. Throwing an arm around Ben’s shoulders, Jack led him out of the room. He did take the time to give Colin a firm smack on the ass first though, just to see his head jerk up in frightened surprise. Colin stared at them, aware that he looked scared and resentful, but unable to help it. Jack snickered as he caught the look, glancing back over his shoulder to give Colin one last leering grin before he left. Alone again, Colin immediately spat on the ground, trying to get the feeling of those fingers out of his mouth. Unbidden, a thought came to his mind -- Helping Hands. How many times had he had his fingers in Ryan’s mouth? Too many to count. How could that contact feel so comfortable, and this one feel so repugnant? Colin shook his head helplessly, closing his eyes in an effort to get some rest. Being chained in an upright position against the wall was very awkward...his whole body hurt. The cold made him shiver almost constantly, which was also draining. Exhaustion warred with mental turmoil and physical pain, leaving Colin in a half-sleep state, his mind wandering aimlessly. **God, Ryan, where are you? Miss you so much. What the fuck is that son of a bitch doing to you? I... I need you, Ry... I can’t stop shaking. I need you so much. Please be all right! Please? They keep coming back to me...keep touching me...stop it! Why won’t they leave me the fuck alone? Is anyone here? I don’t know... I don’t care...all I care about is you. What are they doing to you? How much worse is it than what they’re doing to me? Probably a lot... God, I hope not. If that bastard hurts you, I swear I’ll fucking tear him apart. No one hurts my best friend! I’ll...do something. Don’t know what. I need to get out of here...need to be warm and safe again. I hate being so fucking helpless...are you cold too? Did they take your clothes? Hate that...feel so exposed...what if they come back? They’ll touch me again! No more, please! I can’t take anymore. I have to find a way out...somehow...has to be a way. I can’t just stay here like this! Can’t...have to...oh, Ryan, I need you so fucking bad. Need you here with me. I’m so fucking scared...please, where are you? Are you all right? You have to be! Can’t let them hurt you...can’t let them hurt me...got to get away. Wish I could feel your arms around me...so strong. You’ve gotta be strong, Ry...don’t let them get to you. I swear I’ll find a way out of here. Swear I’ll see you again. My Ryan...need to see you, to hold you. But they won’t let me... Bastards! I hate them...so much...I’m gonna make them to suffer for doing this! Got to get out of here...think of something...Ryan. Can’t think of anything but you. Want to see you so bad...want to be with you again. Where are you Ry? Help me...please...** * * * * * Colin didn’t have to wait much longer for his opportunity to get away. The next time someone entered his cell, he wasn’t surprised to note that it was a single person, instead of two. Sometimes Jack came in alone, and Colin felt his body tense in reaction. Jack alone was always bad, because he tended to do absolutely everything short of actually raping Colin. The intruder was lingering in the doorway, and Colin squinted, wishing for the umpteenth time that he had his glasses. When the figure moved closer, Colin’s eyes widened as he recognized Ben. The one who was never left alone with him -- the slow-witted, easily manipulated, strangely childlike one. Colin’s mind immediately began whirling, trying to find a way to use this to his advantage. Who knew when such an opportunity might arise again? “Hi Benny...” Ben paused, surprised by the greeting, and even more surprised by the low, sultry tone of voice it was delivered in. “Um...hi...pet,” he replied slowly, trying to look masterful but only coming off as nervous. “I’m glad you decided to come in alone...I hate when Jack touches me, you know,” Colin purred, watching Ben’s reaction carefully. The strangely intense man seemed to be enthralled, but wary, and Colin forced himself to go slowly. He couldn’t rush this, or he might lose his one chance. “Why don’t you touch me more, Benny? I’d like that...” “Wha...you...you would? Really?” Ben was blinking in confusion; still not sure whether he should believe Colin. “Oh, yes indeed,” Colin replied, and then paused, frantically trying to think of the right thing to say. Ben was slow, but fiercely loyal to Chris, to the point of hero-worship. He wanted to be just like that psychotic bastard -- that was it. The first real hope ran through Colin as he saw the key -- and seized it. “You’re such a good master...just like Chris!” Ben’s eyes lit up, and a huge grin split his face. Colin tried to avoid showing his excitement, keeping his eyes downcast in a pose of submission. Ben stepped forward, putting a possessive hand on the back of Colin’s neck. “Yeah, I am...and you’re my pet, and I can touch you if I want to!” Colin felt a twinge of nervousness at this, and he spoke quickly, trying to maintain control of the situation. “I just wish I could touch you, Master Ben...” he said wistfully, casting a deliberately flirty look up through his eyelashes. Ben grinned at the title, his chest puffing visibly. “You can touch me, pet. Go ahead!” “But I can’t, Master Ben...these chains are in the way.” Colin paused carefully -- this was the most delicate part of his plan. He could feel time slipping away so fast, and he was painfully aware that Jack could walk in at any moment. He wanted to grab Ben and scream at him to follow the hint, make the connection, but the man was just standing there, listening to his plodding thoughts. Finally Colin couldn’t stand it anymore, and he added desperately, “But if you were to take the chains off, then I could do exactly what you said...like a good pet!” Colin could see the light dawn in Ben’s eyes as he finally understood what his captive was asking. Realization turned to a confused frown as Ben slowly shook his head, saying, “Oh, I don’t know, Chris wouldn’t like that...” “But...but, the chains are to control me, right? And you don’t need them, because you’re my master, right?” Colin tried to keep the pleading edge out of his voice, striving to sound calm and rational. Ben was still shaking his head, but he looked like he was thinking about it. “Please, Master Ben, I want to touch you...to be with you. You’re so hot, I want to touch you right now!” Ben still looked uncertain, and Colin tried one last desperate tactic. “I’ll prove it! Kiss me! I never let Jack kiss me, but I want you to do it, cause I want you, Master Ben! Please!” Ben was finally swayed, and he grinned suggestively, lifting Colin’s chin with a fingertip. “I knew it...you’ve wanted me from the start, haven’t you? My pet...” Smugness practically oozing from his pores, Ben leaned forward and pressed his lips firmly against Colin’s. Closing his eyes reflexively, Colin did his best to return the kiss, difficult considering he’d never kissed another man before. Well, except Ryan, but that was totally different, and not just because it was on stage. After all, this kiss was just an act too; he certainly didn’t *want* to be kissing Ben. Ryan was different because his lips were warm and soft, while Ben’s were rubbery and too wet, but that wasn’t it either. It went beyond the physical differences, and Colin realized that kissing Ryan was different simply because it felt good...sweet, and right, and natural. Even though they’d only done it on stage. With Ben, it was disgusting and he had to force himself to respond, but with Ryan...he thought briefly that it would be the other way around. He’d have a hard time *not* responding. After what seemed like forever, Ben finally broke the kiss, smiling triumphantly. Colin forced a dazed smile onto his face, and looked at Ben adoringly. From the inside, it felt like the weakest acting job he’d ever done, but Ben seemed to eat it up. Colin was terrified that they would be interrupted before his effort could pay off, making the whole disgusting kiss worthless. Quickly, before common sense could penetrate the cloud of smug satisfaction that surrounded Ben, Colin pressed his plan further. “Oh, yes Master Ben, that was wonderful. Can’t I please touch you now? Please...I want you so bad!” The words sounded false to Colin’s ears, trite and meaningless, but Ben nodded, giggling happily. He quickly removed Colin’s wrist cuffs, and Colin threw his arms around Ben and begged him to release the ankles as well. Still giggling in excitement, Ben crouched to do just that. Colin saw his chance. Ben was at his feet, fiddling with the ankle chain, his back exposed. Heavy metal chains still hung from the wall, and Colin silently curled one of them around his hands, creating a makeshift bludgeon. Lifting his arms high, Colin swung them down and connected the cold iron to the back of Ben’s head. The impact sent a jarring shock through his body, and Ben collapsed without a sound. Colin immediately bent down to remove the chains binding his ankles. They were locked. Hands shaking, on the verge of panic, he pulled at them desperately for a few seconds before reason reasserted itself. Ben was going to unlock them; therefore, Ben must have a key. Colin gingerly rolled the unconscious man onto his back, freezing when Ben moaned softly. Colin stared at him for a moment and then grabbed the chain and smacked him with it again. Colin was shaking, glaring down at Ben, and it was hard to stop hitting him. He wanted to beat the unconscious man with the chain, make him bleed and break and...and never wake up. Colin dropped the chain, staring at it in horror. He scrubbed a hand across his face, trying to get a grip. Ben continued to lay still, and Colin quickly felt his way through the other man’s pockets. Finding the keys on a ring in his hip pocket, Colin carefully pulled them out and started trying each one. There were at least ten keys on the ring, and Colin felt like time was just rushing past faster and faster. He was convinced that Jack was going to walk in any minute, and when he did, Colin would never get another chance to escape. His trembling hands finally found the right key, and the lock turned, releasing his right ankle. Colin immediately surged to his feet, only to be stopped by the chain around his *other* ankle. With a muttered curse, he frantically applied the key to that cuff, but it wouldn’t turn. Panic was reaching its cold fingers into Colin’s mind, and he kept thrusting the wrong key at the lock, cursing it under his breath. Finally, he realized it must be a different key, and tried them all until he found the right one. Freed from his bonds at last, Colin took a deep breath and headed for the doorway. A last minute idea occurred to Colin, and he turned back, looking at Ben’s unconscious form. Time was calling to him, frantically urging him to move, to get the hell out of here before something went wrong, but he forced himself to go back. Grabbing one of the chains that had so recently bound his ankles, Colin snapped it around Ben’s ankle. For good measure, he put the other ankle chain on Ben’s wrist, pulling him around slightly so the chain would reach. When he yanked on the man’s arm, his jacket fell open, exposing a shiny glint underneath. Colin paused, then moved the jacket and found Ben’s knife tucked inside. He quickly grabbed it and looked for a place to put it. That was when he remembered that he was naked. Smiling slightly at the irony, Colin quickly stripped Ben of his jacket and pants, working with frantic speed. He was especially nervous when he had to temporarily remove the chains in order to get the clothes off, but Ben never stirred. After what seemed like forever, Colin was finally dressed, armed, and free. It felt amazingly good to be wearing clothes again, even if they were ill fitting. As the final touch, he cut off a swatch of Ben’s shirt and stuffed it in the man’s mouth, effectively gagging him. Knife in hand, Colin set off in search of Ryan. Walking softly through the dark basement, Colin paused often to listen. Up ahead, he could see a glow of light around a corner, and he advanced toward it, moving in a kind of scurrying half-crouch. Coming to the corner of the rough concrete wall, Colin peeked around the side, ever so carefully. An appalling scene met his eyes. * * * ~~~Ryan~~~ Ryan could still feel things, but not in the way the he had felt them in the beginning. The first time that sick fucker took him by force he had felt it very keenly. He could still remember the sense of terrible intrusion. He had struggled, thrashed hard against the chains, despite the way he was punished for fighting. The first time with the blade... No. Don’t think about that. Okay, not thinking about it. Ryan was, in fact, very good at thinking about nothing. It had been hard at first, to let his mind float away, but now it was just the opposite. Now it was hard to stay inside his head. The pain was grounding, in a way. It made things more real. In the rare times when the bastard wasn’t hurting him, everything got gray. Ryan worried about that, but only mildly. It didn’t really matter that much. Not a lot mattered anymore. Except for the blade, of course-- Didn’t we decide we weren’t going to think about that? Ryan could still feel the tearing thrusts, and he wondered briefly just how badly he was being damaged on the inside. It wouldn’t be so bad if Chris ever let him heal from the first few times, but there were no breaks. Once, he had asked for some time without the pain, broken down and cried, begging for that psycho to stop. That was the first time that the blade had come out. Stop it! No more with the blade. Just...stop it. Please? It was no use. The image kept coming back, and Ryan let it come. Fighting was just too hard. He didn’t want to fight anymore. * * * “Please, please, stop it, I can’t take it anymore, please...” Ryan was sobbing, twisting his body away from the clutching hands, ashamed of his weakness but unable to help it. Chris raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly, nodding. “Yes, you can. And you will. But this is an important milestone, pet. I think...yes. I think you’re ready for the next step.” Ryan shuddered involuntarily, not knowing what the next step was but knowing it would be bad. Chris was smiling. That was always a bad sign. But to his surprise, Chris pulled out of him, giving him a firm smack on the ass in the process. Ryan didn’t flinch -- he knew perfectly well that flinching was against the rules. So was talking, but so far Chris hadn’t punished him for that. Ryan swallowed, wincing at the pain in his dry throat. He could feel his breathing quicken as he watched Chris with wide eyes. Chris was at the edge of his vision, pulling something out of a cabinet that lay in the shadows beyond the reach of the single light bulb. Ryan could feel his abused muscles tensing as he watched Chris, and he whimpered slightly, still very close to tears. But they wouldn’t be tears, would they? No, his body needed the water too much to waste it that way. Chris came back with his hands behind his back, walking slowly, almost strutting. His chin was lifted and his face had what Ryan had come to know as his hurting expression. It was a kind of light that came into his eyes, and his lips drew back slightly, not in a smile but something close. The sight of that expression made Ryan curl up as much as he could with the chains restraining him. The first time he had seen that look Chris had dripped something that burned terribly on his legs. He shivered uncontrollably, curling tighter and tighter as the young man approached. “Hush now, pet,” he said quietly. His tone held the pleased indulgence that a mother might show to her child at changing time. He began to unlock the chains that held Ryan’s wrists, leaving him held only by his ankles. Ryan glanced at him in confusion before quickly looking away again -- direct eye contact was seen as insubordination. He nearly shot to his feet, some residual part of his mind seeing an opportunity to escape, but he didn’t try it. Chris had shown him early on the futility of trying to escape. He had removed all but one chain around Ryan’s ankle and stood back, telling him to try his best. Every time Ryan even got close to Chris, he received a hard punch to somewhere soft. The bastard was deceptively quick. Before long, Ryan wanted to quit trying, but Chris wouldn’t let him. He insisted that Ryan keep struggling for (hours? a day?) until he was absolutely exhausted and covered with bruises. Ryan had learned the lesson well. Still, when the chains were taken off his hands, his first instinct was to reach up and throttle that bastard. His arms actually lifted slightly, his hands curled into claws. Ryan yanked them back quickly, cringing in anticipation of another long ‘try to escape’ session. But Chris let it go...he seemed to be in a particularly forgiving mood today. Which only frightened Ryan even more. “Don’t be frightened, pet. We’ve reached an important stage! I think you’re ready to be fucked without the chains. You just need a little...discipline.” He was still speaking in that happy, indulgent tone of voice, and Ryan felt his stomach twist as he hunched his shoulders. Chris never sounded happy unless he was about to do something terrible. “Look at me,” Chris said, and Ryan obeyed without thinking. Obedience had been taught very early on. It wasn’t the pain that kept him from disobeying so much as the deprivation. Chris would deny him food, water, sleep, anything to make him cooperative. After the first few (hours? days?) awake, Ryan had been a shambles. Thought was replaced by a kind of skating awareness, and colors took on a strange echoing tinge. He wasn’t sure if it was the thirst, the hunger, or the exhaustion; but whatever it was, it made him obey now. He looked up at Chris, and saw what looked like a lighter in his hand. Oddly enough, the first feeling the lighter produced in Ryan was an intense craving for a cigarette... something he hadn’t felt for a while. It took a few seconds for the thought that Chris intended to burn him to cross Ryan’s mind. When it did, his eyes widened, and he blurted out, “No! Don’t, please--“ Cutting himself off sharply, Ryan cringed in anticipation of some punishment for speaking. He ducked his head and curled his body, covering all his soft places instinctively. But Chris only chuckled, still smiling softly. “No, no, pet...it’s not what you think. I’m far more creative than that.” Ryan shivered again. He knew perfectly well how creative Chris was. The acid on his legs had only been the first of many little games. Chris liked to use Ryan’s own body to torture him. Feeding him just enough to keep the hunger awake and gnawing at his belly. Dripping water in his desperately opened mouth, allowing it to trickle down his throat, and then telling him that the water was laced with a powerful drug that would make him throw up everything he had just eaten. This, right after Ryan had finally been fed enough to feel, if not full, at least not starving anymore. The vomiting had gone on until blood came from his torn throat. Ryan swallowed, taking controlled breaths and counting backwards until the nausea roiling in his belly settled again. It was never good to think about that particular experience. “Look at me, pet,” Chris said again, jerking Ryan out of his unpleasant memories. Ryan looked up, keeping his eyes carefully trained on the smooth, manicured hands of his tormentor. Mustn’t look in his eyes. Never, never; don’t make him mad; don’t set him off again. Chris was still holding the lighter, and in the other hand, what looked like a smooth piece of metal. Ryan squinted, trying to make out details in the dim light. His vision had been blurry of late -- and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the dehydration, or the exhaustion...maybe the world was getting blurry. Maybe everything was turning into water (water, water, oh please, need some) and swimming away. Maybe this dark hole in the ground would fill up and he would swim away. Maybe he would drown. Maybe that would be better. Ryan bit his lip, trying to bring himself back to reality. It wasn’t that hard...not then. Chris flicked his wrist, and the metal thing in his hand snapped open. Ryan’s eyes widened when he realized it was a straight razor. He began shaking his head helplessly. No...surely he wouldn’t. Surely not. This couldn’t be happening. “Yes, pet. It’s real,” Chris said, smirking. Ryan just looked at him, frantically trying to control his thoughts. He knew Chris couldn’t read his mind, of course he couldn’t, but...better not to think anything rebellious. Just in case. Chris flipped the top of the lighter open, and some part of Ryan’s mind noted that it was a Zippo. Hey, the never fail, the old reliable, gotta love those Zippo lighters, oh yeah. His first lighter had been a Zippo, back when he was too young to buy cigarettes but did anyway, his height making him look older, or maybe the 7-11 clerks just didn’t care, let the kid get his cigarettes-- Okay. Back to earth. It was getting harder and harder to keep his mind steady. It seemed to get bigger and more diffuse over time, like a balloon being blown up. And the rubber sides get thinner and thinner, until... No. Just...don’t think about that. Think about what Chris is doing. What is he doing? Chris was holding the razor in the flame from the lighter, just letting the metal sit right there in the flickering orange flame. Ryan could see the heat wavering in the air over the blade, and he backed away without thinking. No...Chris wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. He did. * * * Ryan bit his lip, hard, to keep from making noise. It hadn’t taken many cuts for him to learn that particular bit of discipline. And that sick fucker was right about being ready to be raped without the chains. There was still an ankle chain, of course, but the rest were gone. All Chris had to do was order him to assume the position, and Ryan did as he was told. It didn’t really bother him so much anymore. When it started, he would just let his mind float away. Not all the pain was so easy to escape from, though. The pain of rape was nothing compared to the blade. Ryan would do anything to avoid that. Sometimes that bastard would make him choose. Would he rather have some water and allow himself to be cut, or go without, and avoid the blade? That was always a hard choice. Ryan’s throat hurt all the time now, and he couldn’t stand very well. Standing made him so dizzy. Sometimes, he took the cuts, just so he could have the water. Chris always dealt it out so sparingly, making Ryan lick it out of his cupped palm. Sometimes that vicious fucker would cut him and make him lick up the blood, but there wasn’t much. The hot blade cauterized as it cut, so the bleeding was actually quite minimal. That kept him from passing out, so he could feel everything. Chris had explained all this, speaking like an artist explaining his painting. Choosing whether to go thirsty or take the cuts, that was a hard choice. Choosing whether to fight the rape or accept it and maybe avoid cuts -- that was easy. Of all the things Chris did, the rape was probably the least painful. Of course, Ryan hadn’t felt that way in the beginning, but the beginning was very far away now. Everything was very far away. Except for Colin. Colin was always there in the front of his mind, telling him not to give up. Ryan wanted to give up. Fighting was so damn hard, and he was so tired all the time. That damn asshole never stopped, never let up, never gave him time to recover or think. Not that thinking was something that Ryan did a lot of. Oh no, thinking had evaporated some time ago, leaving only a thin shell of instinct and reaction. But Colin, he wouldn’t give up either. He harried Ryan relentlessly, don’t give up, fight him, fight it...sometimes Ryan wanted to yell at him to go away. Just go away and leave me alone. He could hear Colin when he (slept? dreamed?) during the times that Chris wasn’t there. Sometimes he could even see Colin, but he was always hazy and transparent. Ryan thought that maybe Colin was dead, and he was seeing a ghost. He always shoved that thought away hard. It couldn’t be. Colin was all he was fighting for now, so he had to be alive. Because if Ryan was fighting for nothing, he thought he really would go insane. Sometimes he wondered if he already had. But no, and no, and no again. Colin was alive. Even though Chris had been so angry with him, so angry...never make that psychotic bastard angry. Never, never. Just be quiet, that’s the important thing. Quiet is what matters. Ryan was dimly aware that someone was watching this time, as the sick fucker raped him, but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t Chris and it wasn’t Colin, no one else mattered. He swallowed again, wincing at the pain in his throat. It was worse than the pain of the tearing intrusion into his body, worse even than some of the cuts. Ryan could feel his body getting weaker, and he thought that he should probably allow some cuts so he could get some water next time the sadistic bastard offered. But wouldn’t it be easier to just deny the offer? Wouldn’t it be easier to let himself die? Yes. Yes it would. But Colin, always Colin, telling him to hang on, keep fighting. Go away, Colin. Leave me alone. * * * ~~~Colin~~~ Colin had no idea what was running through Ryan’s mind at that moment. He wasn’t even sure what was running through his mind. Conscious thought had been replaced by sheer emotional reaction as he took in the scene below the single hanging lit bulb. Jack was standing a few feet away, his back to Colin as he watched his boss at work. Chris was stripped from the waist down, his pants lying in a pile off to one side. The gun rested on a small folding table, which was set up close by. Ryan was completely naked. Chris was behind Ryan, brutally forcing himself into the helpless man with rough, tearing thrusts. Ryan’s jaw was clenched in pain, his face a picture of misery, his eyes open and unseeing, but he was eerily silent. As he took in the scene, Colin felt shock hit him like a punch in the stomach and his body shook violently in reaction. He half-raised his fists, gritting his teeth and staring at Chris furiously. Colin wanted -- needed -- to charge in and stop this assault, but the thinnest thread of reason held him back. His self-control was wavering badly though, and his breathing came in harsh, ragged gasps. The look on Ryan’s face...the blood and bruises...Colin could think of nothing else but stopping the brutal rape. He could feel his body wanting to rush forward, and he shut his eyes briefly, trying to maintain control. Some rational part of his mind was trying to tell him that he couldn’t win if he didn’t plan this right, but it was rapidly being eclipsed by his need to do something -- anything -- to tear that fucking psycho away from Ryan. Then, as Colin watched in horrified shock, the tiniest of sobs escaped Ryan’s lips. Chris immediately paused, shaking his head ruefully. “Oh, and you were doing so well this time, my pet. Too bad.” The words were regretful, but the tone was not -- it was, in fact, almost eager. Still keeping his dick buried to the hilt in Ryan’s bleeding body, Chris reached over to the table, where something was resting next to a lit candle. When he lifted it, Colin could see it was a pearl-handled straight razor, and that the blade was red-hot from sitting in the candle flame. His eyes half closed in a sick, twisted pleasure, Chris slowly and deliberately drew the razor’s edge in a careful line down Ryan’s back. There was an audible hissing sound as the heated blade effortlessly slipped through Ryan’s skin. As he cut, Chris thrust forward slightly with his hips, his moan mingling with the soft whispering sound of Ryan’s skin burning. Colin bit his hand to muffle his gasp, watching in horror and renewed shock as Ryan’s whole body stiffened in agony. His back arched and his head thrashed from side to side, but Ryan still remained perfectly silent. Colin saw a trickle of blood run down Ryan’s chin -- he had bitten through his lip to keep from crying out. The sight of that blood was the last straw for Colin. His battered self-control snapped, and a red haze descended over his vision. He was dimly aware of a rushing sound echoing in his ears. All reason and planning was swept away in a torrent of pure fury. Colin flew around the corner like a wild animal, screaming in rage, thrusting the knife ahead of him and heading straight for the monster that was hurting his best friend. Jack only looked up in time to see Colin blow by him, and he stood still in confusion for a few seconds. That was all the time Colin needed to tackle Chris, who was hindered by the hot blade in his hand and the fact he was still inside Ryan. Colin waved the knife wildly, moving without thought or skill, bent on hurting Chris as much as possible. It was sheer luck that landed the blade in the bastard’s thigh, and Chris twisted away in pain, pulling the knife out of Colin’s hands. Ryan, still on his hands and knees, turned and met Colin’s dark, wild eyes. The moment stretched out timelessly -- Chris was still turning away, Jack just starting to move forward, and everything seemed to freeze. Even the candle flame danced more slowly as Colin and Ryan stared into each other’s eyes. Colin felt some strange emotion reach up and clutch at his chest, making him catch his breath. All he wanted was to rush forward and hold Ryan in his arms, and never let him go. Ryan’s shimmering green eyes held the same wish, and Colin actually started to lift his arms in anticipation. That was when the smooth click of the gun being cocked broke the spell. Suddenly, everything was moving fast again, and Colin turned to see Chris leveling the gun at him, cold certainty in his eyes. Now Colin felt like he was the one moving in slow motion, instead of the others. He felt trapped in quicksand, unable to react to anything. The empty, dark hole at the end of the gun barrel seemed to grow, ready to swallow him. Colin stared helplessly, transfixed. He surely would have been lost...had it not been for the hurtling body that knocked him to the ground. Ryan stood in front of him, shaking visibly, his chin thrust out in defiance. His eyes dared Chris to shoot. Colin stared up at his best friend, gaping in awe. Not only had Ryan risked his life, he was standing up to the man who had surely terrorized him relentlessly. At that moment, Colin thought he had never loved Ryan more. He had no time for such warm thoughts though, because Jack was suddenly on him, pulling him to his feet, and grappling for control. Colin struggled frantically, painfully aware that Chris and Ryan were still staring at each other, the loaded gun between them. He desperately hoped that Chris wouldn’t shoot his valued possession. Ryan was hoping the same thing -- in fact, he was counting on it. The gun was still pointed at him, but Chris was hesitating. Then, as Ryan watched with baited breath, Chris seemed to come to a decision. He straightened his shooting arm, shaking his head regretfully, and began to tighten his finger on the trigger. Ryan leapt forward, grabbing the arm and wresting it to the side. He was weak from days of torture and little food, but Chris was hampered by the knife still in his thigh. Ryan and Chris struggled for control of the gun, each man grabbing at it desperately. Behind them, Colin and Jack were fighting as well. Jack had the advantage of being well fed and rested, while Colin was driven by pure terror. Their struggles led them into Ryan’s line of sight, and he glanced over. Chris followed his gaze, and then shot a malicious look at Ryan. Yanking control of the gun away from him, Chris pointed it at Colin, only a few feet away. He couldn’t miss. In a panicked, desperate move, Ryan threw himself on Chris, hitting him just as he pulled the trigger. With a flash of light and a loud report, the gun went off. * * * * * Part 6 Colin and Jack both collapsed to the ground as the echo of the gunshot reverberated in the room. Ryan whirled and stared at them, watching as his best friend went down, with that other bastard on top of him. He could see Colin’s hand sticking out from under Jack, clenching and relaxing, reaching out like a man drowning. The gunshot had been amazingly loud up close, and Ryan’s ears were still ringing. He was aware of his own breathing rasping in his chest, but he couldn’t hear it. As he watched in horror, Colin’s hand twitched once more, and was still. Ryan could see blood beginning to stain Jack’s shirt -- but he wasn’t sure where it was coming from. Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan saw Chris raising the gun again, and in a cunning move, he reached for the knife in the bastard’s thigh. Ryan twisted it viciously, getting a vindictive satisfaction out of hurting the man who had caused him so much pain. Chris screamed and clutched at his leg, giving Ryan the chance to grab the gun. He pulled it away sharply, and turned it on Chris, his hands trembling as part of his mind screamed at him to stop, don’t make the psycho angry, don’t fight him, what the hell are you doing?! Colin and Jack were still on the ground, and as Ryan glanced at them, he could see bright red blood staining the ground beneath them. He turned his gaze back to Chris...to the man who had shot his best friend. The man who had brutally raped and tortured him. The man who was at his mercy. Ryan could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he looked down the barrel of the gun. It felt strange in his hands, heavy and powerful. He felt bigger for holding it. Chris was staring at him, that same cold command in his eyes, and Ryan had to struggle not to drop his gaze. He was actually looking the sadistic monster right in the eyes -- and it was terrifying. “Put it down, pet. Do as I say,” Chris said calmly, never blinking. Ryan actually felt his hands dip a bit in automatic obedience, and he bit his bleeding lip, tasting the blood, feeling the pain. It brought him back a little bit, reminded him what that bastard had put him through. “No,” he said, barely whispering the word, but getting it out. “Now!” Chris snapped, and Ryan cringed. Oh shit, he’s angry, you made him angry, what the hell are you thinking, do what he says before he-- But no. It’s enough. Ryan couldn’t go through this anymore. And yet, he might have given in. Giving in was just so much easier. He was so tired, and so confused all the time; maybe it would be simpler to just let Chris take care of things. Let him win, because fighting was just so damn hard. Then Ryan remembered Colin. Colin, who had charged in there and fought Chris, hurt him, made him stop. Colin, who was lying on the ground, covered in blood. Colin wouldn’t give up. Ryan held the gun out with both arms, pointing it straight at his captor’s head. His hands were shaking badly, but at this range, he couldn’t miss. “Ryan...don’t...” The voice was weak and muffled, but still unmistakably Colin. Ryan whirled, his eyes wide, hope rising in his chest. Colin was underneath Jack, struggling to push the heavy man off. With a final kick, he managed to free himself, and rose to his feet, his eyes fixed on Ryan’s. “I know he deserves it, Ryan...but don’t sink to his level. You’ll never forgive yourself.” For a moment, Ryan wanted to hit him. What the hell did Colin know about it? He hadn’t been there; he couldn’t possibly imagine what Ryan had been through. Perhaps seeing the sudden bitterness in Ryan’s eyes, Colin held his hands out in a placating gesture, and then his eyes widened as he focused on something over Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan turned in time to see Chris swinging the razor blade in a high sweeping motion, and he ducked, catching a glancing blow on his shoulder instead of a direct hit. More blood welled from the new cut, but Ryan ignored it, too deep in terror and rage to feel anything so minor. He swung the gun like a club, hitting Chris in the side of the head. The madman crumpled to the ground, leaving Ryan standing over him, trembling and shaking his head in disbelief. It couldn’t be that simple. Ryan began to shake even worse as everything caught up with him. Just a few minutes earlier, he had been on his hands and knees, being brutally raped yet again. He could still feel the pain from that latest assault. Then there was Colin rushing in and Ryan’s realization that it was real this time; that Colin was actually here. Ryan’s first reaction had been a deep shame at being seen like that as Colin’s presence made him aware of his own condition. He felt like sinking into the ground so he wouldn’t have to face Colin. He was painfully aware that he was only restrained by the single ankle chain, and that he wasn’t fighting. Colin must think he was a whore, a worthless slut to allow himself to be taken in that way. To sell himself for the meager cost of a little water and a little less pain. Ryan felt cheap. Then that feeling was swiftly followed by the sweeping relief of knowing that Colin was alive, and that he apparently still cared enough to attack Chris for him. Ryan had been so terrified that Colin wouldn’t want anything to do with him, now that he was...dirty. Ryan shuddered again as he remembered fighting with the man he was so terrified of, because he *needed* to save Colin the same way Colin had just saved him. Needed to prove to Colin, and maybe to himself, that he was still worth something, that he could still fight. Then he had seen what looked like his best friend being shot, and had nearly shot Chris in return...the gun fell out of Ryan’s suddenly nerveless hands. It hit the ground with a soft thunk, and Ryan quickly followed, his knees buckling and sending him folding gracelessly to the floor. Colin stared in shock, not sure what to do. The whole thing had happened so fast, and he still felt dazed and frightened. His gaze flicked to Chris, to Jack, and then back to Ryan’s still form. Ryan...his heart suddenly in his throat, Colin felt a jolt of panic surge through him, and he hoped desperately that Ryan was all right. Moving to his side, Colin rolled the tall, naked man onto his back. His eyes were closed, and when Colin lifted the lid, he saw only whites. Ryan was breathing just fine, but he seemed to be out for the count. Colin sat back on his heels, still flustered and confused, listening to Ryan’s steady breathing. The sound was soothing, and he concentrated on it -- he’s alive. He’s hurt, badly hurt, but thank God, he’s alive. The quiet was a strange contrast to the chaos he’d been a part of only minutes before. He blinked a few times, staring at his trembling hands as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just done. Looking around in confusion, his gaze caught on the still forms of Jack and Chris, and he decided the first thing was to make sure they couldn’t cause any more harm. Part of him wanted to take the gun and finish Chris off. Just looking at the man was filling Colin with fury again as he remembered what Chris had been doing to Ryan. His hands clenched involuntarily as he glared at that psychotic bastard, and he had to look away. He focused on Ryan again, carefully watching the steady rise and fall of the taller man’s chest. He had stopped Ryan from killing Chris, and that was probably for the best, but some part of Colin wished he hadn’t spoken up. What right did he have to deprive Ryan of his revenge? His justice? Because that’s what it would be. If anyone ever deserved to die, it was Chris. Colin put a hand on Ryan’s chest, calming himself by feeling the steady heartbeat. Ryan was alive, and that’s the only important thing. A quick check of Jack confirmed that he was dead -- probably due to the ragged hole in his chest. Colin couldn’t help a little grunt of satisfaction at the sight. He had stopped Ryan from killing Chris, but it wasn’t like he had actually shot the bullet that had killed Jack. Colin wasn’t a murderer, but still, he was glad that Jack was dead. After sparing one last moment to glare at his tormentor, Colin turned his attention to Chris. The leader of this merry band of psychos was very much alive. Keeping the gun trained on him, just in case, Colin quickly removed the chains from around Ryan’s ankles and put them on Chris. He was about to do the same with the wrist chains, when a thought occurred to him. Ryan was still naked, and Colin knew from hard experience just how unnerving that was. Colin winced in sympathy as he looked at Ryan’s body -- even in the dim light, the cuts and bruises were all too evident. Colin bit his lip worriedly, hoping Ryan’s fainting wasn’t caused by blood loss. There were so many cuts that the relative lack of blood seemed strange, until he realized that the burned in cuts didn’t seem to bleed very much. He wished that he could have gotten here sooner; spared Ryan some of this pain, but guilt would do him no good right now. All he could do was make Ryan as comfortable as possible with the means at hand. Getting the shirt off Chris was a bit difficult, since he didn’t want to wake the man up. Colin managed though, and when he was done he quickly finished with the wrist chains. Now Chris was bound and naked, and Ryan was free. Colin moved to his friend’s side, taking a moment to do something he didn’t particularly want to do -- really look at him. He didn’t want to know how badly Ryan was actually hurt; didn’t want to see all the injuries he hadn’t been here to prevent. Ryan was filthy with caked dirt and blood, covered in bruises, and strange ragged red lines. It took Colin a moment to realize the lines were caused by the heated straight razor. The worst of them seemed to be concentrated on his sides and close to his back, so Colin carefully rolled Ryan onto his side. When he got his first good look at the bare back, Colin sucked in his breath in shock. There, carved in painful, deliberate strokes, was a single word. ‘Chris.’ **Oh my God, he... he fucking carved his name on your back! Holy fucking shit, Ryan... I can’t believe that... Oh God... Fucking psychotic asshole! I shouldn't have stopped you from killing the son of a bitch. I should’ve let you kill him...I didn't know... My Ryan... God, what else did that sick fuck do to you? I'm going to kill him... And I swear I’m going to take care of you. Anything you need, anything you want... God this is all my fault... We’re going to get out of here and then I'll take care of you. I'm never letting you out of my sight again! Jesus fucking Christ... I just can’t stand the sight of those marks on you! They're a reminder that I... God, I couldn't stop this from happening. I need to do something to get rid of them...anything so you don't have to bear them. We have to...come on Ryan; wake up. This isn't funny anymore; you need to wake up. We HAVE to get out of here. I need to get you away from this shitty prison! I’m so sick of being in this damn dark hole, trapped and helpless... helpless... couldn't help you, couldn't stop them, couldn't handle it... I need to see the sunlight again, with you SAFE. I need to see you smile, hear you laugh, say something stupid, even sing a goddamn hoedown... I need to hold you... but I'm so fucking scared, I don't want to hurt you. You've been hurt so much... I couldn’t stand to hurt you, never. And I swear I will never let anyone or anything so much as try to think of hurting you. I hope that motherfucking monster tries something, just so I can kill him. Slowly. I want to make him suffer for this...want to take the pain I see on your body and transfer it to him. But first I need to see your eyes. I need to know that you’re going to be okay...my God, Ryan, I’m so scared. I thought you were dead...thought I’d never see you again. I need to talk to you, to feel you...wake up damn it!** “Ryan? C’mon, come back to me, Ry. Please... Ryan, please, I need to see your eyes. Talk to me; tell me you’re all right. Okay? You are all right, aren’t you? Ryan? I got to you as fast as I could...I’m so sorry, Ry. So sorry I couldn’t stop this from happening. I’ll take care of you now, I swear. It’ll be all right. Just please, please, be okay.” Colin continued to plead with Ryan, muttering almost under his breath, not really aware of what he was saying. His eyes darted helplessly over the bruised, bloodied form of his best friend, and Colin swallowed hard. Colin shook Ryan’s shoulder gently, trying to bring him out of the dead faint. He wasn’t sure if was emotional shock or physical trauma that had caused this -- probably both. Colin wanted to examine Ryan more completely, or at least clean him up a little, but in the dim light on the dirt floor, there was nothing he could do. Deciding he could at least make Ryan a little more comfortable when he did wake up, Colin grabbed the shirt he had taken from Chris. Doing something, taking action, was better than just sitting there and pleading with his friend to wake up. He pulled Ryan into a sitting position, letting the taller man lean into his chest, and rest his bruised face against his shoulder. He paused for a moment, enjoying the close, reassuring contact, and stroked his chin against Ryan’s dirty, matted hair. Colin brought the shirt up over Ryan’s back, and ran his arms through the sleeves. As he brought it together in the front to close the buttons, Ryan suddenly drew in a deep breath and jerked awake. “No! Please no, you bastard, leave me alone, no more...please! I can’t...just fucking stop it...no more...” Ryan was struggling, thrashing around helplessly, tearing at the open shirt. Colin stared at him in confusion, trying to hold him still and soothe him at the same time. “Ryan! It’s okay, it’s me, Colin! Can you hear me? Calm down, you’re all right...you got him! You knocked him out, he’s not going to hurt you anymore. Just calm down!” Ryan slowly stilled, and reached out with a trembling hand to touch Colin’s face. “Is...is it really you? Colin?” Ryan’s eyes were wide, all hope and disbelief. Colin took Ryan’s hand in his own, rubbing his cheek against the long, soft fingers. “Yes, Ry, it’s me. You’re all right now...it’s gonna be okay.” Ryan nodded, his eyes impossibly large, drinking in the sight of Colin like he was his last link to this earth. His hand was still plucking at the shirt, and Ryan looked down, frowning in confusion. “This is HIS shirt. Why is it on me?” “Well, you were naked...I know how that feels. So I thought--“ “No...it smells like him. I don’t want it on my skin. Please, Col...I can’t wear this...I just can’t. I’m sorry...” Ryan trailed off, ducking his head guiltily. The days of training he had endured had taught him that contradictions and speaking out of turn were firmly against the rules. Ryan knew, intellectually, that Colin wouldn’t hurt him, but that knowledge didn’t keep him from hunching his shoulders in anticipation of some punishment. In his mind, he saw Chris again, shaking his head ruefully. “Now, now, pet, you know that’s wrong. I’m only doing this so you’ll learn. It’s for your own good.” Then he would start again with the hitting, or the cutting, or God only knows what else. Ryan shuddered, unable to meet Colin’s eyes. “Ryan...it’s okay. You don’t have to wear it.” The fear in Ryan’s posture tore at Colin. He gritted his teeth, glaring at Chris again as he wondered what Ryan had been put through to react this way. Colin helped Ryan remove the shirt, moving carefully around his many injuries. When it was tossed aside, Ryan stayed still and quiet, keeping his eyes down. Colin felt like crying as he saw this evidence of how Ryan had been forced into submission. The man who was usually a self-confident smartass was now trembling before him, clearly terrified of doing anything wrong. Colin gently lifted Ryan’s chin, forcing the tormented green eyes to meet his own. He slowly stroked Ryan’s face and hair, pouring as much love and acceptance into his gaze as possible. The tall, trembling man leaned in closer, desperate for comfort but afraid to ask for it. Colin pulled him in, putting his arms gently around the scarred back and pressing Ryan’s face against his shoulder. Closing his eyes in relief at finally holding Ryan in his arms, Colin rocked him slowly, still carding his fingers through the dark blonde curls. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually the dark, oppressive silence of the basement and the musty smell were no longer tolerable. Colin just *had* to get out of there, and he was sure Ryan felt the same way. Drawing back, he looked carefully into Ryan’s eyes, letting their foreheads touch for a moment. “Want to go home?” Colin asked gently. Ryan only nodded, swallowing and blinking rapidly. Colin rose to his feet and reached down to help Ryan up. The taller man turned slightly, suddenly ashamed of his nakedness. He was painfully aware of the scars on his body, marking him as a possession...a thing, not a person. Colin saw the movement and understood it all too well. He looked around for a moment, and his eyes fell on Jack, still lying in the exact same position. (Not that he’d ever move again.) “Hey,” Colin said, pointing at Jack, “Okay with you to wear his pants?” Ryan nodded gratefully, and Colin made quick work of stripping the pants off the dead man. He handed them to Ryan, who immediately started putting them on. Colin looked at Jack, giving Ryan the chance to get dressed in relative privacy. He had seen dead bodies before, but only at funerals, and he had certainly never undressed one. Jack was still limp and just starting to cool -- Colin shuddered, wiping at the blood on his chest again. It was Jack’s, of course, and Colin desperately wanted to wash it off. It was because of this blood that Jack’s shirt was useless...that, and the big ragged hole in the back. Ryan was staring up the stairs at the heavy metal door. Colin followed his gaze, and then looked at the still unconscious form of Chris. He could see the key hanging from its chain around the man’s neck, and he moved forward to retrieve it. Ryan stopped him with a soft touch on his arm, and then gave him an apologetic look. “Let me...I have to...I can’t really explain it.” Watching the anger and pride flash in Ryan’s eyes, Colin thought he understood. Ryan *needed* to take the key away from Chris, to show he wasn’t afraid. He needed to take back some of what had been stolen from him. Colin nodded, hoping Ryan wasn’t taking on too much, and he felt a flash of pride in his friend as he gave Ryan an encouraging pat on the shoulder. Ryan could feel himself trembling. Each step he took toward Chris was harder than the last. He kept expecting the man to leap up, with that accursed straight razor in his hand. Over and over, Ryan had been taught the price of defiance. Even though he knew Chris was chained and helpless, the fear refused to leave him alone. Some cowed, broken part of his mind was screaming at him, warning that he would be punished harshly for his audacity. Daring to steal the master’s key? Was he crazy? Did he *want* to suffer? Because that’s what he was asking for, and he deserved it for such behavior. Ryan mentally told the yammering voice to shut the fuck up already, biting his ragged lip. His hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t get the chain off. Being so close, actually touching him -- it went against all his training. He wasn’t allowed to touch Chris unless he was specifically ordered to do so. Ryan still remembered the first time he had tried it. It wasn’t even an attack, or an escape attempt. He had simply staggered, exhausted and starving, and automatically put out a hand to steady himself, bumping slightly into Chris. The punishment had been a particularly brutal rape, followed by what seemed like days with no food. Even as he reached out for the keys, Ryan kept his eyes down; touching Chris was bad enough, daring to look at him at the same time would probably get him killed. At least, that’s what the frightened, broken part of him believed. Ryan looked back over his shoulder for a moment. Colin was right there, watching him with serious, intense eyes. When he saw the pleading glance, he gave Ryan a gentle smile, but made no move to help him. He knew Ryan had to do this on his own. It was hard though... so damn hard to stand there and not respond to the fear he saw in Ryan’s eyes. Strengthened by Colin’s faith in him, Ryan steeled himself and quickly yanked the chain away. Chris stirred ever so slightly, and Ryan cringed, taking two quick steps back. He was suddenly and completely sure that Chris was going to wake up and punish him for his disobedience. Ryan had actually *touched* him, tried to take the keys, dared to fight back... Ryan knew he was really in for it this time. Chris was probably going to kill him. Slowly. He was unable to believe it was real when Chris lapsed back into stillness again. He wasn’t going to be punished? He actually had the key and was going to get away with it? Impossible. And yet...Chris wasn’t moving. And the key was sitting in his palm, undeniably real. Turning to Colin, he held up the key, feeling some of his pride return. Colin grinned at him, and Ryan smiled -- his first smile in quite some time. Putting a gentle hand on Ryan’s back, Colin walked with him toward the stairs, gesturing for Ryan to precede him as they began to climb. Ryan felt that same submissive part of his mind telling him that the key wouldn’t work, that he would be trapped down here forever, but he refused to listen. Colin was here, and Colin would take care of things. Colin had rescued him, charged in like an avenging angel...Ryan felt his lips twitch into a slight smile at the thought. When he turned the key, his hands weren’t even shaking. The lock clicked easily, and Ryan pushed the door open, squinting against the bright light that burst through from the other side. Part 6b Colin and Ryan stepped through the doorway together, staring raptly at the welcome daylight. They were in a large, richly furnished house, which seemed to be empty. Colin was just standing, breathing in the fresh air, feeling the sunlight on his skin; he was unable to believe they were really free. He couldn’t shake the feeling that any minute now he would wake up back in that basement, chained to the wall, being groped by one or both of those crazy bastards. And of course, if he was back in that damn little room, Ryan would still be trapped too, being hurt and cut and raped by that sick monster. Colin knew it was irrational, but he felt like Ryan was going to disappear any second, just evaporate like smoke. Colin turned to look at Ryan, reassuring himself that yes, Ryan was alive and yes, he was still there, still within arm’s reach. In the bright sunshine, the bruises and cuts on Ryan’s dirty skin were even more shocking. Colin felt anger flare up all over again as he saw the long, twisting red lines that were the result of that heated blade, cutting and burning at the same time. Ryan would have permanent scars from this experience -- and not just on his skin. Colin frowned worriedly -- some of those cuts were alarmingly red and looked swollen around the edges. Ryan was very pale, except for two hectic patches of color on his cheeks, and Colin’s frown deepened. Ryan was probably sick. God only knew what that bastard had done to him. A welcome breeze blew through the open windows, making Colin take another deep breath, relishing air that didn’t smell dank and musty. Ryan shivered though, and as Colin watched in concern, the shivering got worse. Shirtless and barefoot, covered in cold sweat and dried blood, Ryan was looking alarmingly weak and shaky. Colin moved to his side, rubbing his arms briskly, trying to warm him, but found the skin already much warmer than it should be. Although Ryan leaned into the touch, he didn’t stop shivering. The sweat on Ryan’s skin only worried Colin more, because he was sure that it was water Ryan couldn’t afford to lose. Slipping off Ben’s jacket, Colin quickly wrapped it around Ryan’s thin shoulders. Ryan let his eyes slip shut for a moment in pleasure as he snuggled into the soft fabric, warm from Colin’s body. Colin overlapped the jacket with his arms, holding Ryan as tightly as he dared while still being careful of his tender skin. To his relief, Ryan’s shivering subsided, and his breathing settled. Ryan’s head sank down to rest on Colin’s shoulder, and his body grew limp and heavy. When Colin lifted his head from Ryan’s shoulder to look at him, he noticed that the green eyes were dull and sleepy, with a glassy look that Colin associated with fevers. Colin knew that the fever was not a good sign, but he wasn’t sure how serious it was. Somewhere in the back of Colin’s mind, a little fact popped up: when people die of a high fever, it’s because the brain is essentially boiled in its own fluids. Colin shivered, wondering where he had picked *that* particular fun fact up. Ryan certainly seemed out of it, barely awake, but that might not be due to the fever. Colin could understand that Ryan was exhausted -- hell, he was exhausted too -- but he didn’t know if Ryan should be allowed to sleep or not. Deciding to err on the side of caution, Colin shook him slightly, and talked to him to keep him awake. “Hey, Ryan...you still with me, man?” “Mmmm...yeah...” Colin winced slightly -- speaking hurt his parched throat. That’s when it occurred to him that he didn’t have to live with that terribly thirsty feeling anymore. And neither did Ryan. Even with his meager store of medical knowledge, Colin knew that sick people should drink plenty of fluids. Now, at least there was one thing that he could do for Ryan that he could be sure would help. With a wide grin splitting his face, Colin turned and looked around, quickly spotting a doorway that opened on what looked like a kitchen. He could even see a shiny chrome tap hanging over the sink, and he licked his dry lips involuntarily. It seemed like he could smell the water from here. Colin started in that direction, but was pulled up short by a tight grasp on his wrist. He glanced at Ryan in confusion. “Don’t go. Please...” Ryan’s eyes were huge, pleading. Even as he spoke, he ducked his head contritely, hunching his shoulders in anticipation of some punishment. “Ryan...it’s okay. Come with me. Let’s go get some water.” Colin spoke as gently as he could, trying to keep his impatience out of his voice. He could feel his body begging for the water, and some basic, survival part of his mind wanted to yank his arm from Ryan’s grasp and run for that sink. He wanted to turn the water on and stick his head under the tap, let it run into his mouth, cascading over his head, washing away the feeling of sweat and too many unwanted touches. He could imagine how it would taste, cold and leaden, marvelously wet, and he swallowed, making a clicking sound in his dry throat. “Water?” Ryan asked, his head lifting hopefully. “Could I...maybe...” He trailed off again, and Colin’s eyes widened in disbelief. Ryan actually thought he needed Colin’s permission to have some of the water. And he was actually afraid to ask. Ryan was gazing toward the sink now too, licking his cracked lips, with a tortured expression on his face. “Come on! You can have some too, it’s okay, come on!” Pulling on Ryan’s arm, Colin all but dragged him into the kitchen. Ryan went willingly enough, but he still looked doubtful. Like he expected some kind of trick. Colin understood that only too well -- it had been one of Jack’s favorite games to offer him water and then pull it away at the last minute. In some cold, vindictive corner of Colin’s mind, he rejoiced in the knowledge that Jack was dead. With a shaking hand, Colin reached out and twisted the cold water knob all the way open. For a split second he was sure that nothing would happen, and his chest tightened painfully, but then water gushed from the tap. Colin stared at it for a moment before giving into his body’s needs and sticking his head under the stream, mouth open, catching all that he could. It was just as he had imagined it would be, cool and sharp and incredibly good. Even though it had that flat mineral taste of city water, with all the added chemicals and the faint aftertaste of chlorine, he thought it was the best thing he had ever tasted. The soothing liquid ran down his throat, finally erasing the stabbing pain there, leaving only a dull ache. He pulled back after several seconds, sputtering, blinking water from his eyes. It ran down his face and chest, soaking his hair, feeling wonderfully refreshing. It also reminded him of how dirty he was, and for a moment he nearly stuck his arms under the tap in an effort to get clean. Then he remembered that Ryan was still waiting for a drink. Colin ducked his head guiltily, knowing that with his fever, Ryan probably needed the water more than he did. “Go on, Ry, you need this more than I do,” Colin said softly, gesturing to the running water. Ryan looked at it longingly, his lips parted. He looked helplessly at Colin for a moment, obviously wanting the water. Something was holding him back. In his mind, Ryan could see Chris again, setting a cup of water on the ground in front of him and then telling him not to take it. “Just don’t take it, pet. I’m going to leave for a little while, and if it’s still there when I get back, maybe I’ll let you have it, plus a little more. But if you take it...” He hadn’t needed to finish the threat. Ryan already knew the price of disobedience. Then Chris had left, and Ryan had stared at the water, mesmerized, swallowing and helplessly licking his dry, cracked lips. He thought he had never wanted anything so badly in his life. The first time Chris did that, Ryan couldn’t help himself. He took the water as soon as that bastard left the room. But the punishment had been particularly brutal, and it was followed by an even longer period of time without water. Eventually, Ryan learned to let the water sit there, and was allowed to drink it when Chris returned, provided that the sadistic asshole was in a good mood. “Ryan? Go on...here. How about this?” Colin asked, as he grabbed a plastic cup that was sitting on the counter. He quickly rinsed it and filled it with the water, then held it out to Ryan. His friend’s eyes fixed on the cup, and one hand started to go out, before pulling back. Ryan looked at him pleadingly, and slowly shook his head. “I’m not supposed to... it has to be given.” Colin blinked in confusion. Given? He was giving the cup to Ryan, holding it out, offering it -- how else could he possibly give it? He looked up at Ryan, frowning, and Ryan opened his mouth a little more, tilting his head toward the cup. Colin suddenly remembered the way he had been forced to eat from Ben’s hands, and he had the sinking feeling that he knew what this was about. Chris must have given Ryan water by hand, and somehow tortured him into thinking that was the only way he could have it. Ryan was still looking at him with those pleading, desperate eyes, and Colin gritted his teeth. If he ever needed another reason to hate Chris, here it was. “It’s okay, Ryan. You can take it. No one is going to hurt you.” Colin spoke slowly and deliberately, but Ryan only shook his head miserably. The taller man was trembling, apparently fighting some internal battle, but he couldn’t bring himself to take the cup. Colin looked at him sadly for a moment, and then sighed and brought the cup to Ryan’s lips, carefully tipping the water into his friend’s mouth. Ryan drank greedily, gasping as the cold wetness hit his dry throat. He sucked the whole cupful down quickly and his eyes slipped shut as he moaned softly in relief. Colin smiled -- he understood the feeling. Taking the empty cup, he turned to the sink and refilled it, then held it back out to Ryan. The taller man looked at it and parted his lips, licking them eagerly, but Colin didn’t put the cup to his mouth again. Instead he reached out and took Ryan’s hand, bringing it to the cup. He pressed the cool plastic into his friend’s palm and curled the long fingers around it, holding Ryan’s hand between both of his own. Ryan was shaking his head, his eyes wide, and he tried half-heartedly to pull away. “No...I can’t...he said--“ “Yes, Ryan. Take it. You don’t have to do what he says anymore.” Colin held onto Ryan’s hand for a few moments, staring into his eyes. Then, he carefully removed his hands, leaving Ryan holding the cup. Ryan stared down at it miserably, wanting to drop it but at the same time unwilling to let go of precious water. It’s amazing how you don’t realize how much you need something until you don’t get enough of it. For a moment, Colin thought he would have to actually force Ryan’s hand up to his mouth, but Ryan started moving on his own. Ryan’s shaking got worse -- water was actually slopping over the edges of the cup as it approached his lips. He gritted his teeth, remembering how he had taken the key away from Chris. How he had stood up to him when that bastard had the gun turned on Colin. He could do this. He needed the water, and he was going to take it. Ryan shuddered, taking a deep breath. Finally he tipped the water into his mouth and swallowed it quickly, almost desperately. He looked like he was afraid the cup would be taken away any second. Colin only smiled at him in approval and gently stroked the back of his knuckles down Ryan’s cheek, trying to reassure him. “See, Ryan? Nothing bad happened. You don’t have to be afraid of him anymore. You’re free now.” Ryan stared at him in disbelief, but when Colin refilled the cup for him again, he drank from it with only a little hesitation. Still, his shoulders hunched and he looked around nervously, expecting to be caught and punished. Colin shook his head sadly and got a cup for himself, sucking down more of the cool water. He felt like he could never get enough. Common sense told him that if he took it too fast, he would make himself sick, so Colin reluctantly turned the water off and led Ryan back into the living room. The water had revived him, and he could feel his body responding to the influx of fluid. He felt more awake and alive than he had in...days? Weeks? Who knew? Colin swallowed, relishing the ability to do it without pain. Ryan looked sleepy again, but Colin was sure the water had been good for him. However, he was still bleeding from a dozen places and swaying slightly on his feet, and Colin decided it was time to get the hell out of this house. “We have to figure out where we are, and you need to get medical help.” Colin looked around, spotting a phone mounted on the wall. Remembering something he had seen on TV about police being able to trace calls, he figured he could get some help even if he didn’t know where the hell he was. Colin walked Ryan with him over to the phone, afraid if he let the swaying man sit down, he would pass out again. Ryan stood very close to him, leaning gently against his side, which was fine with Colin. As far as he was concerned, he never wanted to let Ryan out of his sight again. He couldn’t help shooting Ryan a worried look though -- he could feel the heat rising off the taller man in waves. He was really burning up. Colin picked up the phone with one hand and dialed 911, letting the other hand gently stroke Ryan’s hair. His hand was cool and damp from the sink water, and he pressed it to Ryan’s hot forehead, hoping to cool him slightly. Ryan’s eyes were drooping again, but they lifted marginally when he heard Colin’s voice. “Hello? We need some help...no, I don’t know where I am. We were kidnapped, and my friend is hurt, we need an ambulance, and there’s some really bad guys tied up in the basement...I told you, I don’t know! Can’t you trace the call or something?” Pause. Exasperated breath. “Well, they brought us here blindfolded in the back of their van, that’s how. You think I’m making this shit up?” Longer pause. “Yes, okay, that would be great. I’m sorry I was...you know...this has all been really -- yeah, okay, we’ll be right here. Can you hurry? My friend is -- oh, they are? All right, thanks. Bye.” Colin shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment in silent exasperation with bureaucracy in all its forms. Lifting Ryan’s chin to wake him slightly and get his attention, Colin said, “Okay, they’ll be here in a few minutes. We just have to sit tight for a little bit. How you doing, Ry? You okay?” Ryan nodded automatically, leaning forward to rest his cheek on Colin’s shoulder for a moment before straightening again. Colin was both touched and worried by Ryan’s apparent need for constant reassuring contact. Ryan was normally independent and most definitely *not* touchy-feely. His change in attitude was an indicator of just how deeply this had affected him. Remembering the scene he had interrupted just a little while ago, Colin shuddered and thought they hadn’t even scraped the surface of how badly Ryan had been damaged. “Should prob’ly call Drew,” Ryan murmured, still sleepily stroking Colin’s arm with a hand that trembled ever so slightly. Colin raised his eyebrows; surprised that Ryan was able to think so clearly. Colin himself had been so wrapped up in his worry over Ryan and his relief to be free that he hadn’t even thought of that. Of course, Drew must be worried sick. Colin wondered fleetingly just how long he and Ryan had been trapped in that dark place. Shrugging off such depressing thoughts, Colin dialed Drew’s number from memory, wondering what he was going to say. Instead of the stocky comedian’s familiar voice, he got a recorded error message. Frowning in confusion, Colin stared blankly at the phone for several seconds. His own exhaustion and stress was catching up to him, and right then Colin felt about as smart as a potted plant, and considerably less energetic. Finally, it clicked that he needed to put in the area code -- they had traveled so far in that damn van that the call was long distance. Wondering again just where the hell he was, Colin dialed the number again, this time with its three-digit prefix. Through this whole process, Ryan remained silent, seeming content to trace his fingers over the back of Colin’s neck and occasionally rest against his shoulder. Much as Colin was enjoying the contact, and as much as he needed the reassurance too, he was really beginning to worry about Ryan’s clinginess. This was probably not a good sign for his mental health. Drew answered on the third ring, sounding out of breath and impatient. “Yes, what?” “Drew? Its Colin--“ “Colin! Oh my God! Where are you? Is Ryan with you? Are you all right?” A little overwhelmed, Colin blinked a few times before answering, “Um...I don’t really know. We were, um...I guess you’d call it kidnapped.” “I saw the house, we thought something like that must have happened. Did they get both of you? Are you guys okay?” Drew’s voice sounded tired and very worried. “Yeah, Ryan’s here too. I’m okay, and he’s...well, it’s a long story. He’s hurt. But I already called 911 and they’ve got help coming for us.” Colin could almost see Drew nodding as he listened to the pause at the other end of the line. After taking a moment to assimilate this, Drew asked, “Who was it? Was it that creepy guy who wrote that letter?” “Yeah...and a couple of his friends.” Colin tried to keep his voice level -- Drew was already worried, and he didn’t want to make things worse by letting his emotions show through. “What did they want? Did they hurt you?” Drew was speaking softly now, perhaps hearing Colin’s frayed nerves over the phone line despite his efforts to sound calm. “They wanted Ryan. Or rather, HE did -- Chris. Fucking vicious, sadistic, manipulative son of a bitch!” Colin suddenly snarled, and then stopped short, surprised at himself. He knew he was angry with that bastard, of course he was, but he thought he had better control than that. Ryan was looking at him with wary eyes, and Colin smiled gently at him, cupping the back of his neck with one hand and bringing their foreheads together for a moment. “Col? You okay?” Drew sounded cautious and concerned, knowing Colin was not given to sudden outbursts of temper. “Yeah. I...yeah. I’ll be fine. I guess this all got to me a little more than I realized. That bastard -- Chris -- he did things to Ryan. He hurt Ryan really bad, and I couldn’t get to him, I couldn’t stop it...I wanted to so much but I just couldn’t get there... Chris fucked with his head too. Made him think he’s...well, he’s just not thinking right. I...they wouldn’t let me see him...I didn’t even know if he was alive or what, I only heard him screaming that once and then it just stopped and they kept coming in to fuck around with me, messing with my head and...and *touching* me and I couldn’t make them fucking stop and--“ Colin’s voice broke and he stopped abruptly, suddenly realizing he was on the verge of tears. His breathing was rapid and uneven, and he could feel his heartbeat thumping in his chest with an almost painful intensity. Ryan was rubbing his back, nuzzling against his neck in an effort to calm him. Colin took a deep breath and closed his eyes, leaning into Ryan’s embrace until he felt like he could talk again. Drew was silent, waiting patiently for Colin to get it together. “Sorry. I’m...this is all just...God, I’m so fucking tired, Drew. It was...it was really bad.” Ryan nodded his agreement, still keeping his face buried in the hollow of Colin’s shoulder and his arms wrapped around the shorter man’s body. “It’s okay, man. I’m glad you’re all right. I’ll make some calls, find out what hospital they’re taking you to, and I’ll get there as soon as I can, all right?” Drew’s voice was quietly sympathetic, and deeply concerned. Colin nodded for a few seconds before his tired mind remembered that Drew couldn’t see him. “Yeah, that’d be great, Drew. I could really stand to see a friendly face, y’know? Just...just you, for now, okay? I don’t think Ryan is really up to seeing a lot of people right now. And...I don’t think I am, either.” “Sure, Col, whatever you want. You’ll be okay...do you want me to stay on the phone with you until the help gets there?” Colin’s first impulse was to say yes -- he was feeling very unsteady and Drew’s voice was like a lifeline to someplace sane and solid. But a breeze blowing across his bare, damp torso made him shiver and reminded him that he was still half-naked. After spending so long trapped in that chilly cell with no clothes at all, Colin wanted nothing more than to be fully clothed and warm again. “Nah, Drew, thanks for the offer, but I want to find a shirt before the paramedics get here.” Drew blinked, wondering why Colin was shirtless. It seemed like an odd thing for Colin to say, and he sounded so calm and rational all of the sudden. This, right after he had nearly broken down talking about how he couldn’t get to Ryan and how they wouldn’t stop touching him. It was like Colin was surrounded by a thin layer of ice, and occasionally anger and fear would break through. Drew recognized the behavior as classic shock from his military training with the Marines. He was glad they had medical help coming already -- from what Colin had said and the way he said it, they both needed some help. “Okay, man, I’ll see you at the hospital. Hang in there, all right?” “Yeah, I will. And Drew...thanks.” “No problem. Bye.” And just like that, they were alone in the house again. Colin took a moment to stare at Ryan, knowing he was being ridiculously needy but not caring. He just had to see those sweet, familiar features -- the green eyes, sleepy but alive and aware; the soft curls of dark blonde hair; the slim lips that he had kissed so often on stage, but never in real life. Colin lightly traced his fingertips over those lips, feeling strangely bewitched. Another shiver raised goose bumps on his skin, reminding him that he still needed a shirt. “C’mon, Ry, help me find a shirt, okay?” Colin asked, leading Ryan by the hand to what he presumed were the bedrooms. Ryan went easily, still very clingy and compliant. Colin was afraid of finding out what had been done to make his normally stubborn and unshakable friend so docile. He missed the old smartassed, sarcastic Ryan...the one who could take anything and dish it right back out without blinking. This Ryan was quiet, and all too submissive -- it made Colin uncomfortable. Walking into the first door in the hall, Colin entered what appeared to be a guest bedroom. There were very few personal touches in the room, but the closet held a few shirts. Colin grabbed one, guessing by the size that it had probably been Jack’s. Well, he wouldn’t be needing it anymore, would he? Colin smiled grimly, while a small part of his mind watched nervously, wondering just who he had become. Someone who took pleasure in the death of another human being? No matter how vile he had been, no matter what he had done, some part of Colin was appalled that the rest of him was happy the bastard was dead. Colin slipped the shirt on with a sigh of relief, glad to be dressed again. He turned to Ryan to say as much, and felt his stomach lurch when he saw only an empty space next to him. Ryan had just been there! Panic tried to jump up his throat, and Colin choked it back down, telling himself he was being ridiculous. Ryan was fine. Just because the last time they had been separated, Ryan had been tortured and raped, that didn’t mean anything. Completely failing to convince himself, Colin looked around frantically, and spotted a shadow moving in the hallway. He stepped into the hall just in time to see a silhouette disappear into another bedroom. No! Chris couldn’t possibly have gotten free. There was no way. Right? * * * * * Part 7 Colin could see Ryan lying on the floor, dark red blood rapidly soaking into the carpet beneath him. He was curled on one side, scrabbling helplessly at his midsection with bloodied hands. Chris stood over him, still grinning that shark-like grin, holding his knife. The knife glinted coldly in the unforgiving fluorescent light, and like Ryan’s hands, it was covered with blood. Ryan’s breathing was ragged, and strangely wet. Colin could hear it bubbling, almost, and he could see why when Ryan flopped onto his back. There was a great rending tear across his abdomen. It wasn’t like looking at a medical picture, or even like watching those surgery shows on TV. Those were always clean and sterile. This was shockingly real, bright and messy and still moving. Colin could see the blood spurting up in time with Ryan’s heartbeat, could see the hint of glistening pink coiled intestine, the dark red-brown of his liver. Ryan was clutching at the tear, actually trying to put everything back in. Released from the constraint of skin and muscle by the sharp blade, his internal organs were rapidly becoming external. Colin shook his head violently, rubbing his eyes and trying to banish the gruesome image from his mind. He could see it in vivid detail; could hear Ryan’s ragged, desperate breathing and Chris’s mocking laughter. When he skidded into the room where he had seen the silhouette, he fully expected to see Ryan lying curled on the floor, bleeding and dying. Instead, he saw Ryan...everywhere. He was on the walls, small and big and every size in between, laughing and smiling and goofing around, posing or on stage, and there was one life size model standing in the middle of the room, staring at the rest. Colin had been so certain of what he was going to see, it took him a moment to realize the life size model wasn’t a model, but the real thing. Closing his eyes in relief, Colin quickly stepped forward, hugging Ryan from behind and laying his head gently against the sore back. He tightened his arms as much as he dared without hurting Ryan, still trying to shake off that vivid imaginary picture of Ryan bleeding on the floor. He could feel how thin Ryan was, and the unnatural warmth of the fever, but at least he was *alive.* Colin felt a twinge of irritation with Ryan for running off like that and scaring the hell out of him, but it quickly melted away. He was surprised to feel the tall, slender frame trembling badly. “Ryan? What’s wrong?” “It’s me...they’re all me...” Ryan was still staring at the room, feeling fear reach up and claw at him, threatening to drag him into hysteria. Some of the pictures were glossy publicity shots, while many others appeared to be computer printouts of screen captures from the show. A few were enlarged to poster size and tacked everywhere -- walls, corners, overlapping others; it didn’t seem to matter. In one corner there was something that looked like a cross between a shrine and some kind of voodoo thing. Here, all the pictures had clearly been taken in the basement, because they showed Ryan naked, bruised and bleeding, and in several of them Chris was either cutting or raping him. Or both. The pictures were accompanied by several bowls and vials of different colored fluids. Ryan recognized blood, which Chris had collected from him over the course of his ‘training.’ Some appeared to be the acid that Chris had so enjoyed dripping on his legs, while still others were unidentifiable. To complete the ensemble, there were several candles, and a cloth doll with bits of Ryan’s clothing sewn to it and a lock of his hair on the top. Ryan took it all in, feeling like he was drowning. His throat seemed to close to a pinhole and it felt like all his skin had just gotten too tight. He thought that Chris was insane, and his obsession with Ryan was certainly clear, but to see it like this -- so glaringly real, so painstakingly constructed... Ryan was just beginning to realize the kind of man he had escaped. Make that narrowly, barely escaped. If that bullet hadn’t missed, if Jack had gotten in a good hit with his knife, if *anything* had happened differently, Colin could be dead right now, and he’d still be in the hands of that madman. Ryan felt his chest tightening with panic, and he struggled for breath. He was dimly aware that Colin’s arms were around him, that Colin was saying calming, reassuring things to him, but it didn’t matter. He could still feel the touch of those sure, steady hands -- cutting his skin, or caressing it possessively; the touch was the same either way. Chris always knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. Ryan remembered the first time he had been taken by force: the pain, the sense of terrible intrusion, of being violated in the most personal, hurtful way, the helpless fear and despair, the useless anger that had only earned him more punishment... Ryan shut his eyes, trying to block out the memories, but they only came harder and faster. “Feel that, pet? Yes, feel it, it’s me, you’re mine now,” Chris hissed in his silky voice as he pushed into Ryan’s body. Ryan could feel himself tearing on the inside, but the pain wasn’t the worst part. Far from it. He was aware of something warm and wet running down his inner thighs, and some coldly logical part of his mind told him it was blood, but the rest of him didn’t want to hear that. The rest of him was sure that this was all a nightmare that he would wake up from soon. There was no blood. There was no monster forcing his dick into Ryan’s body. None of this was happening. Eventually, Ryan had let go of the nightmare theory, but by then it didn’t matter. Reality had gotten blurry. Maybe it was a dream, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe his whole life up until that point had been a dream, and the basement was the reality. It just didn’t matter. Now, the blade, that mattered. The hot razor edge, sliding through his skin, the high, stinging pain and the soft hissing sound as his skin burned -- he could actually smell it; could see a little tendril of smoke. Oddly enough, it reminded him of barbecued ribs, before the sauce was put on. A sweet cooking meat smell that drifted across the air in the summertime. It got so he hated the hot blade not just because of the pain, but because it reminded him how hungry he was. He could remember being forced to beg for his food until it became second nature, until he begged for everything, and thanked Chris for every moment he was allowed to spend without pain, because every such moment was a gift. There was nothing he could do to earn such a respite -- the only way he ever had a chance to rest or a second without pain was by the generosity of his master. Gratitude was expected and demanded, and Ryan learned to give it without being asked, and to beg without being prompted. The training, the torture, and the rape...it all spun around in Ryan’s mind as he stood in the room where his tormenter’s madness lived. Colin was getting desperate. Ryan’s shaking was getting worse and worse, and his eyes were somewhere far away. No amount of pleading was getting through, and the emptiness in those green eyes was scaring the hell out of Colin. He pulled at Ryan’s arm, yanking him out of the crazy Ryan-room, in the hopes that being away from all those pictures would snap him out of his shock. But nothing changed -- Ryan wasn’t looking out anymore, he was looking in, at his memories. The pictures had just been the catalyst. Ryan staggered, and Colin hurried to support his weight, startled to feel just how easy it was. Either his fear was making him stronger, or Ryan hadn’t been fed much. Probably both, but it didn’t matter right now. Colin half walked, half carried Ryan over to the couch and sat him down, still trying to reach him with words and touches. “Ryan? Please, listen to me! It’s all right now! You’re here, you’re safe with me...oh God, Ryan, come back, you’re scaring me! I’m right here with you...I love you...please, Ryan?” The words were honest and heartfelt, but they hadn’t worked the first ten times he had said them, and they didn’t work this time either. Colin held Ryan close, trying to soothe his violent shaking, staring into his lost eyes in an effort to make contact. He traced the features again, his own hands trembling. He could still feel the fever baking off the taller man, and he frowned worriedly, wondering if Ryan was becoming delirious. There had to be something he could do to help his friend. Some way to cool him down, or wake him up, or...something! He couldn’t just sit here and worry and do nothing. Colin’s soft fingertips found the lips again, and he lingered there, watching for any sign of a response. Ryan was still gone, his eyes frighteningly blank and glassy with fever, his skin hot and flushed. Colin lightly slapped at Ryan’s cheeks, trying desperately to bring him around. Nothing was working, and Colin started to think that this was dangerous. What if Ryan got trapped, somehow, in his mind? He wasn’t sure how something like that worked, but it seemed possible. Ryan had been through so much... There had to be something he could do. Some way of snapping Ryan out of it, something that would startle him, wake him up, but not hurt him. Colin shook Ryan’s shoulders gently, making his head wobble back and forth bonelessly, but got no response. He put his face close to Ryan’s, staring in his eyes, trying to see any sign of awareness. Then, on a sudden impulse, he leaned forward and kissed Ryan firmly, holding his head in both hands. It was just like their famous Maltese Burger kiss, except this time it kept going. Colin was losing himself in the sensations. The reality of it was so very sweet. Knowing that Ryan was there and alive, touching him, and feeling his breath made it so much more than just a physical thing. This was assurance that Ryan was alive and real, that he was going to be all right. Ryan’s soft lips, so familiar and yet so new...they had kissed so many times on stage, but never like this. The sweet, salty taste, the intoxicating scent, the feel of Ryan’s breathing fluttering against his lips -- Colin was swept away. Ryan’s lips were yielding, compliant, but not responsive. And then, suddenly, they were. For the briefest of moments, Ryan’s mouth came to life and he returned the kiss reflexively, leaning into Colin to increase the pressure in a purely physical reaction. Colin felt his whole body tingle in response, and then Ryan suddenly pulled away -- no, make that *vaulted* away, his eyes wide and frightened. Ryan stared at Colin in shock, his mind spinning with conflicting emotions. //Fuck no! Not again, please no...too much, I can't take anymore...Oh God, Colin, you...you're supposed to help me, not turn on me. Colin wouldn't...he wouldn't kiss me. I'm dirty, worthless...no one would ever want to kiss me; I'm just a thing to be used and hurt. Colin...I held on for you, I fought him for you. Why the FUCK do you want to hurt me? ... Because I'm not worth anything more, it's my place, it's my only purpose...but I'm so freaking SCARED. It's Colin, at least he'll be gentle, no cutting, maybe I should just let him...he'd be gentle...I know that...don't I? God I don't even know anymore...Colin's never shown any interest in me before. Chris was right; I am a worthless slut. I've been touching him and clinging to him, freaking leading him on. He's not the bad one. I am. It's all my fault, led Chris on, led Colin on...and I dare to complain, I dare to be scared... God I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I don't mean to. I'm so fucking scared of what will happen to me. Even if it is all my fault...how can I be so selfish? I should just give Colin what he obviously wants, not force him to hurt me too, like I forced Chris to hurt me. I will NOT! What the fuck am I thinking? If he comes anywhere near me to hurt me again... I won't let him! Not like I can stop him really, not in the state I'm in. I should just...avoid getting hurt any more than I already am...but I'm scared, I'm so fucking scared...// Colin watched as Ryan shrank away, his tear-filled eyes frightened and miserable. He could see Ryan’s expressive face working, flitting from one emotion to the next with startling speed. There was betrayal and disbelief first, and Colin swallowed. It was the same way Ryan had looked at him when Chris had forced the situation that led to Ryan’s hand on his crotch, and Colin had responded. Now, given what he had just done, Colin expected the betrayal, and understood it, but the fear that followed it made him flinch. He hated seeing Ryan look at him with fear, and hated even more that he deserved it. Colin shook his head, feeling like kicking himself for being so stupid. He was angry with himself, but still, the sudden flash of anger he saw in Ryan’s eyes surprised him. It was actually reassuring to see the spirit there, the resistance, but it melted away far too quickly. Then, there was only fear again, and a miserable kind of resigned acceptance. He lifted a hand to the trembling man, wanting to stroke his back, give him the reassuring touch that he needed so much, but Ryan flinched, making Colin’s hand freeze in mid-air. “Ryan...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...I was just trying to make you wake up. You know I would never hurt you.” Ah, but did he know? Colin winced when he saw the unmistakable flash of doubt in his friend’s eyes. I put that there, he thought. I screwed up and now he doesn’t trust me. Colin wanted so badly to hold Ryan again, but the fear in his friend’s eyes kept him at bay. Ryan didn’t respond to his assurances; he simply kept a wary eye on Colin and sat still, looking forlorn. Colin was mentally yelling at himself for kissing Ryan. He was filthy, bleeding, feverish, half-starved, scared out of his mind, and probably mentally unbalanced after everything that psychotic son of a bitch had put him through, and then Colin had to go and KISS him? He was about to say something -- anything -- to take that awful lost look out of his friend’s eyes, when he heard voices outside. Ryan heard them too, and looked up in alarm. Colin turned in time to see the door burst open, and three uniformed policemen stepped into the house, followed by a couple paramedics. Colin stood, looking at them uncertainly. One of the cops stepped forward, and asked, “Are you the one that placed the 911 call?” When Colin nodded, the paramedics moved forward, unceremoniously elbowing the cop out of the way. They stopped at Colin’s side, and began briskly examining him. The looks on their faces made Colin aware of his filthy, bruised condition, and he realized he probably looked worse than he was. Trying not to let their professional touches bother him, he looked over their shoulders and addressed the cop. “The men who did this are in the basement...that way,” Colin said, nodding toward the still-open basement door. The cop nodded to his two men, and they headed for the door, quickly disappearing into the darkness behind it. Colin pulled away from the paramedics, eliciting several mumbles of protest. One of them -- the bigger one, Colin noted with a tremor of unease -- held on to him with a gentle, but firm grip on his upper arm. Colin felt his irrational fear at being touched and restrained in any way rising up again, and he swallowed, trying to remain calm. “Um, I’m alright. Really. Can you please help my friend? He’s hurt pretty bad, and he’s got a fever,” Colin insisted, gesturing towards Ryan. The taller man was still perched on the couch, having been silent the whole time. He was staring at the strangers with frightened eyes, looking like a trapped animal. The paramedics exchanged a glance, and then released Colin, moving slowly and non-threateningly toward Ryan. Colin watched carefully, worried about what Ryan’s reaction would be. He was still kicking himself for screwing up earlier, and he wasn’t sure how Ryan would handle these strangers. He quickly found out. Ryan sprang up from the couch and took several steps back, never taking his eyes off the paramedics. They stopped advancing, and Colin realized they probably dealt with this kind of thing all the time. He just hoped that Ryan would allow them to give him the medical help he so clearly needed. “Hey, buddy...it’s all right. We’re not going to hurt you. We just need to get you some help, y’know?” Ryan looked utterly unconvinced, and the bigger paramedic took a step forward, saying, “Look, Ryan...it is Ryan, isn’t it?” Caught by surprise at the use of his name, Ryan nodded. “Okay, look...you’re obviously hurt, and you need some medical help. We’re going to check you out, make sure you’re okay. See, my name is Larry, and my partner here is Mike. And you’re Ryan...I know you from TV. So, we’re all friends now, right?” Deciding it was time to help, Colin walked to Ryan’s side, and put a gentle hand on his back. Ryan accepted the touch; he had already decided to let Colin do what he wanted. He deserved it, after all, for leading him on. If Colin wanted that from him, he could have it. Ryan kept his eyes carefully downcast and bit his lip to keep silent. Colin would at least be gentle with him -- or so he hoped. Feeling gratified that Ryan didn’t shy away, Colin cautiously put an arm around the slim waist, and pulled their bodies together. Looking up at Ryan earnestly, he said, “Listen to them, Ry. They’re here to help us.” Ryan nodded obediently and allowed the two men to approach him. Colin stayed by his side, gently stroking his back and arms in constant, reassuring motions. Nodding to his partner, Larry gently turned Ryan from side to side, examining him closely while touching him as little as possible. Mike lifted Ryan’s wrist to check his pulse, and shined a light into the frightened green eyes. They were very calm and professional, and Ryan’s trembling eased somewhat. Larry’s eyes narrowed as he spotted the lines of blood showing under Ryan’s too-small, borrowed jacket. Gesturing to Mike, he pointed them out, and they both raised their eyebrows. Larry pursed his lips and whistled, low, under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. Colin felt strangely vindicated -- he wasn’t sure why, but it had something to do with his feeling that they had gone through hell. He felt like he wanted those experienced paramedics to be impressed with how much they, and especially Ryan, had suffered. He didn’t want to be taken lightly. Unless...what if that wasn’t why they looked so shocked? What if there was something wrong with Ryan that he wasn’t seeing? Colin glanced quickly at the paramedics, then back at Ryan, wondering what he could have missed. “All right, Ryan, we need to take a look at your chest and back. I’m going to have to take that jacket off you.” Larry was speaking softly, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. It didn’t seem to work though, as Ryan stiffened and shook his head vehemently. He glanced from the paramedics to Colin, and then back to the strangers. Neither of them seemed safe at the moment, but at least he knew Colin. But... Colin had... he wanted the same thing... just like Chris. He couldn’t just let that... but... Ryan closed his eyes briefly, trying to sort out his tangled thoughts. Colin wanted...that thing...from him, but he had already decided to let Colin have his way. At least he wouldn’t get cut that way... probably... Ryan had no way of knowing how the paramedics would treat him. So, somewhat reluctantly, Ryan pressed against Colin’s side, hoping for some kind of protection from the advancing paramedics. Mike, who was apparently less experienced than his partner, moved forward impatiently and pulled at the jacket, holding Ryan still with his other hand. “No! Get the hell away from me! Don’t touch me! Just leave me the fuck alone!” Ryan shouted, jerking out of Colin’s arms and backing across the room. Looking like a hunted animal, his gaze darted from one man to the next, his eyes flashing anger and fear. Colin stared at Ryan in surprise, and then frowned worriedly, knowing Ryan needed this medical treatment. There had to be some way to calm him, to make him accept the help. He was looking shakier by the minute, and Colin was afraid that he might collapse at any time. And yet, he was strangely pleased to see Ryan show some spirit. “Ryan! Listen to me...you know me, right?” Colin asked, trying to hold Ryan’s gaze. Ryan nodded automatically, giving him a pleading ‘help me’ look. “Okay, now trust me, Ryan...these men are here to help you. Just let them look at you -- I won’t let anyone hurt you. Never again.” Ryan swallowed and hunched his shoulders, then quickly hurried back to Colin’s side, ducking his head sheepishly. Disobeyed him...shouldn’t have done that. He said to let those men look, should’ve just stayed put, now he’s going to be mad, just look at him, he looks mad... You’re in trouble now. Colin felt another flash of anger as he remembered watching Chris raping Ryan, and cutting him with that hot blade. He gritted his teeth in determination, knowing if anyone *did* try to hurt Ryan, he was going to make them pay for it. Allowing Colin to approach again, Ryan stood still, trembling but not running. When Colin asked permission with his eyes, and then began removing the jacket, Ryan stood still and allowed him to do it. Ryan had to bite his lip again to keep from reacting. Colin wouldn’t... not in front of the paramedics. Right? Ryan didn’t *think* he would do anything, but he really couldn’t be sure. As the jacket was removed, he shivered again, the cool air drawing goose bumps from his feverish skin. Ryan wanted to grab the jacket back, feeling cold and exposed, vulnerable, but that would be disobedient. Colin wanted the jacket off. And Colin was in charge here. Colin held the jacket in one hand, glad that Ryan trusted him enough to let him take it. Ryan had his head down, but then he looked challengingly at the two paramedics, as if daring them to make a comment about his badly scarred body. They didn’t say a word, but Colin noticed the younger one, Mike, paling slightly. He felt a strange pride, knowing he and Ryan -- especially Ryan -- had endured something terrible and lived through it. The paramedics moved forward again, carefully examining Ryan’s bare torso, touching lightly here and there. Colin could see that the touches were scaring Ryan, and hurting him slightly, but the tall, trembling man held firm, his chin thrust out defiantly. For the first time, Colin felt like Ryan was going to be all right. “Hi there, pet.” The voice came drifting from the open basement door, familiar and terrifying as ever. Chris stood there, his hands cuffed behind his back, with one of the cops keeping a firm grip on his arms. They had allowed him to put his pants back on, but other than that, he was bare. There was a fair sized bloodstain darkening the fabric over his thigh. Despite his captive state, he still managed to project an air of dominance and malice. His cold blue eyes were fixed on Ryan, and a slow grin stretched his lips, baring his teeth wickedly. He took a limping step forward, obviously still affected by the knife wound in his leg. The cop prevented him from moving any more, but that didn’t change Ryan’s reaction. Ryan seemed to curl in on himself. His eyes dropped immediately to the ground, and he hunched his body, making himself look smaller. Ducking his head, he cringed back, and Colin could hear his breathing change to short, terrified gasps, making little whimpering noises in his throat. Colin was torn between his desire to comfort Ryan and his burning need to run across the room and tear that son of a bitch apart. Just seeing Chris again was filling Colin with fury, and his fists clenched in frustration. He wanted so badly to hurt that sick bastard, to make him suffer for the way he had abused Ryan. “Get that fucking psycho out of here,” Colin snarled, glaring venomously at Chris. The cop nodded and began ushering Chris toward the front door, pushing him roughly. Chris never took his eyes off Ryan, who was still hunched over, frozen in place. Colin smiled grimly at the way Chris was limping -- he hoped the knife wound hurt like hell. It wasn’t enough though...nothing could ever be enough. No amount of pain and suffering could possibly make up for what that monster had done to Ryan. Colin followed Chris with his eyes, watching him warily in case he even considered trying anything. He hoped that Chris would struggle and try to escape, so the cops would be forced to shoot him. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to see that sadistic freak dead. The other cop followed with Ben, who was also handcuffed, and wearing nothing but his underwear and his raggedly cut shirt. Colin tried to be angry with Ben, but the honest confusion on the man’s face left him feeling only pity and disgust. Besides, he didn’t have time to think about Ben. He had to deal with Ryan, who still hadn’t moved. He had remained in the same cowering, submissive position since the moment he had heard that hated voice. Colin gently touched his shoulder, and Ryan flinched, moaning softly under his breath. Colin bit his lip -- it hurt so much to see Ryan like this, and it hurt even more to see Ryan shy away from him, hunching his shoulders and trembling at his touch. “Ryan? It’s okay...he’s gone. You’re safe now...” Colin repeated this several times, speaking softly, moving closer to Ryan. He carefully put his arms around the trembling man, still whispering reassuring things in his ear. At first Ryan remained stiff and unresponsive, but gradually his body relaxed and he leaned into the embrace. He had to do what Colin wanted, respond to his cues, and make him happy. Maybe if he behaved, Colin wouldn’t hurt him. If he just did what he was supposed to do, and didn’t force Colin to punish him the way he forced Chris to do it... no. Better not to think about that. Colin wouldn’t let Chris get him again. As long as he did what Colin wanted, he would be okay. Ryan’s long arms wrapped around his friend, and he buried his face against Colin’s neck, rubbing his cheek on the shorter man’s shoulder as if he was trying to get inside his skin. Colin could feel tears dampening his neck, but Ryan remained completely silent. That was the rule, after all. Be quiet, and do what you’re told. If he could just concentrate on that, he’d be okay. Blinking back his own tears, Colin gently stroked his back, wincing as his fingers felt the many cuts. He could still feel the heat baking out of Ryan’s skin; the man was like an oven. Ryan’s body was growing heavy and limp in his arms, and Colin pulled back slightly. He was alarmed to see that Ryan was nearly asleep, his eyes half-lidded and his body swaying. Colin looked over his shoulder at Larry, who saw the confused expression on his face and moved forward. “This is okay, it’s normal. It’s not just the fever, although that’s part of it. He’s probably exhausted, and his body is shutting down. It’s a shock reaction,” Larry said, and Colin nodded, relieved that Ryan was going to be all right. Well... physically, at least. “Walk him out to the ambulance, and we’ll get going,” Larry instructed, moving to Ryan’s other side. When the big paramedic tried to help by supporting some of Ryan’s weight, the scarred, trembling man whimpered in protest and shrank against Colin, squeezing his eyes shut. Colin wanted him to stay close, and he wasn’t going to screw up such a simple rule. He didn’t know what these strangers wanted with him, but he knew that doing what Colin wanted was the safest way to go. So far, he hadn’t been hurt...but of course, that could change. And it would, if he messed up, and forced Colin to discipline him. Larry backed off, and allowed Colin to take Ryan out the door by himself. When they stepped into the front yard, Colin paused for a moment, staring up at the sky. It was wonderfully big, and a welcome change from the dark closeness of the basement. He nudged Ryan with an elbow, and gestured to the open sky with a grin. Ryan blinked a few times, staring sleepily up at nothing, and then he smiled softly at Colin. He didn’t have to fake it. The sky really did look wonderful after so much time in that dark hole. The shorter man returned the smile, and then watched, bemused, as Ryan’s eyes drifted shut again and his head dropped back onto Colin’s shoulder. He smiled and ran a hand through Ryan’s hair, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. Looking forward, Colin saw the two paramedics raise their eyebrows slightly but he didn’t care. Ignoring them, he walked Ryan to the back of the ambulance and helped him in. Colin climbed in after him, settling his friend’s long, lanky frame onto the hospital-style bed. “Um...we don’t normally let non-family members ride in the ambulance. The police can take you to the hospital.” This came from Mike, who was climbing into the driver’s seat and looking back at the two bruised men. Colin stared at him, giving him a ‘just try and make me move’ look. “I’m staying with Ryan,” Colin said, his tone brooking no argument. He picked up one of Ryan’s large hands and held it, letting his other hand rest on the gently rising and falling chest. Ryan was deeply asleep, he had knocked out completely from the moment his head hit the pillow. Colin was tired too, and watching Ryan sleep peacefully was making him even more so, but he was determined to watch over his friend. Mike seemed ready to argue the matter further, but another stony look from Colin closed his mouth, and he simply turned around, facing forward again. Larry climbed into the back of the ambulance, pulling the doors shut behind him. His beefy frame was a tight fit with the other two men already in there, and he sat down on a box of equipment, looking at Colin over Ryan’s sleeping form. Colin met his eyes challengingly, daring the other man to say anything about his continued presence in the vehicle. Larry apparently recognized the futility of argument, because he didn’t say a word. He simply began the process of putting an IV in Ryan’s arm. Colin watched him like a hawk. No one was going to hurt Ryan again, not while he was around. He could see Ryan’s even breathing lifting his chest in a reassuringly consistent way, and Colin smiled, gently squeezing the hand that he held. Ryan was going to be okay. That’s all that mattered now. They were finally out of that place, and Ryan was safe. Colin was finally starting to feel like this was real. They had really made it out. He moved the hand on Ryan’s chest up to his neck, feeling the steady pulse, and the heat of the fever. Colin almost felt like crying every time he looked at his friend. It had been so bad in there, for both of them, but especially Ryan. He was going to make sure that Ryan got better. He was going to stay by his side, no matter what. And God help anyone who got in his way. Larry’s technique was quick and experienced, and he slid the needle in smoothly. Ryan stirred slightly, murmuring in pain, and Colin shushed him, stroking his hair reassuringly. “What are you giving him?” Colin asked, as Larry hooked up a bag of fluid to drip into Ryan’s vein. “Just saline solution for now -- he’s dehydrated. We’ll probably put some other things in later...painkillers, antibiotics, sedatives, that kind of thing. I can’t give him any drugs until we know his medical history.” Colin nodded at the logic of this, and looked back at Ryan. His friend was still deeply asleep, and Colin found his own exhaustion getting harder and harder to fight. There didn’t seem to be anything he could do for Ryan at the moment, so he leaned back against the wall of the ambulance and rested his eyes. Just for a few seconds... * * * Colin woke up when someone tried to pull his hand away from Ryan’s. He sat up straight in confusion, looking around. The doors to the ambulance were open, and Mike was standing behind it, looking in. Larry was the one trying to make his fingers release their hold on Ryan’s, and Colin pushed ineffectively at the big man. “Hey...what’re you doin’?” Colin asked, still half asleep. “He needs to be seen by the doctors -- and so do you. I know you want to stay with him, but you can’t right now. You’ll see him again later.” Larry’s voice was patient but firm, and he clearly meant it. He pushed Ryan’s bed toward the open doors, and wheeled legs dropped from under it, turning it into a gurney. Colin jumped up, watching in alarm as Ryan was wheeled away from him. He started forward, unwilling to let Ryan out of his sight, but Larry stopped him with a firm hand on his chest. “Let me go! I can’t...I have to stay with him!” Colin knew, intellectually, that the hospital staff was doing the right thing. He knew that Ryan needed medical care, and that his presence would be a hindrance. He knew that he probably needed a little medical help himself, and that he should go get it. Knowing all these things didn’t change the way he felt about it, though. Every time Ryan left his sight, something terrible happened to him. Colin was terrified that he would never see Ryan again -- and knowing his fear was irrational didn’t make it go away. “He’ll be fine. Now come on, there’s a doctor waiting to see you,” Larry said firmly, escorting Colin out of the vehicle and into the hospital. Biting his lip in worry, Colin allowed himself to be steered down the labyrinthine halls. The antiseptic smell and chilly air of the hospital did nothing to comfort him, but Colin knew this was necessary. He would just have to wait to see Ryan again, and try to be content with the knowledge that his friend was being cared for by experts. * * * Three hours later Colin sighed and looked at the clock for the fifth time in as many minutes. It was one of those impossibly sterile clocks that adorn hospital walls, stark black and white, clear and somehow uncaring. Colin wondered how many people had died in this blindingly clean room. He could just imagine a doctor glancing up at that coldly logical clock to fix the time of death for the record. There were two beds, both covered in the crisply white hospital sheets. He sat down on one of them for a moment before giving it up as a bad job and rising to his feet again. He just couldn’t sit still. Ryan...dammit, where was Ryan? Why was this taking so long? Maybe...maybe they had found something wrong with him. Maybe the fever was more serious than the paramedics had thought. No. Ryan was fine. He hadn’t lived through all that crazy shit that Chris put him through only to succumb to a stupid fever! That would be so far beyond unfair that Colin refused to contemplate it. Ryan would be okay. The doctors were probably just looking him over, making sure, who knew. Maybe he needed stitches for some of those cuts. He had been hurt worse than Colin, after all, so it made sense that it would take longer to look after him. The exam Colin had been through had taken about two hours. He had been thoroughly poked, prodded, and questioned, which was a rather unnerving experience. Telling the story to a calm, detached doctor and impassive police detective wasn’t easy, but he had done it. In between questions, they had cleaned him up and done several tests. He had been given antibiotics and anti-nausea medication -- the latter after he had lost control when his story reached the scene he had walked in on. Colin thought there was nothing quite so embarrassing as throwing up in front of a roomful of strangers. Except, maybe anything else about the whole experience. By the time the story was through, Colin was humiliated and even more exhausted than before. They had loaned him some hospital scrubs, since the clothes he had borrowed from Ben were dirty and didn’t fit very well. Besides, they had admitted him for at least one night, and that meant wearing the thin cloth garments that marked him as a patient. The doctor had frowned over his bruised ribs, saying that two of them appeared to be cracked, and given him some painkillers. So, he was clean and relatively numb, which felt good. However, he was also emotionally drained and shaken from recounting the events, and very impatient to see Ryan again. Leaving him alone was the worst possible thing that Colin could do. At least, it seemed that way. He *needed* to see Ryan again, to see his eyes open and alive, to see him breathing, to touch him and know he was real. But he couldn’t, because he was stuck in this damn hospital room, pacing impatiently and fiddling with his IV. They wanted to keep him overnight and give him fluids intravenously -- apparently he was dehydrated and malnourished, and the doctors wanted to keep an eye on those ribs. The bed looked inviting, but Colin was too worried to lie down. There was no way he could rest until he knew that Ryan was going to be all right. Until he could see it with his own eyes, and be sure. His need to see Ryan seemed to get stronger by the minute, and no amount of deep breathing calmed his worry. “Excuse me, sir...” Colin turned to see an orderly standing in the doorway, and he quickly stepped forward, dragging his wheeled IV pole behind him. “Yes? Is Ryan done being examined? Can I see him?” Colin asked anxiously. The orderly nodded, and Colin breathed a sigh of relief. Finally! “Where is he? Take me to him, please.” The orderly blinked a bit at Colin’s rapid words and insistent tone, but he seemed to understand. Stepping out of the doorway, he led Colin down the hall and around several corners until they arrived at another door. He opened it for Colin, and gestured inside with a smile. Colin brushed by, his eyes trained on the single occupied bed. As he drew closer, he recognized Ryan’s lanky form, and he sank down in the chair next to the bed, staring raptly at his friend. Ryan was breathing slowly and deeply, his chest moving in a steady rhythm. He was clean, and dressed in a hospital gown, covered to the waist with a blanket. The thick stubble that had coated his face had been shaved cleanly away; presumably by the same people who had cleaned him up. Colin could see the shapes of bandages under the thin material of the hospital gown, and he supposed they were covering Ryan’s burned-in cuts. He wondered what the doctors had made of the name carved in Ryan’s back. The thought made him shudder, and he shook it off, concentrating on Ryan’s steady breathing. He was okay, alive, safe. Thank God. Some part of him still thought that all this was a crazy dream he was having, and he was really still stuck in that damn hole, but the disbelief was fading. An IV bag identical to his own hung over the bed, and a tube dripped clear fluid into Ryan’s arm. Colin took Ryan’s hand and folded it over his own, rubbing his cheek against the warm, smooth knuckles. It felt incredibly good to see Ryan again, and to touch him...Colin kissed the hand he held gently, then let his cheek rest on it again. The sound of a cleared throat behind him made him turn, and he saw the orderly still standing there, looking bemused. “Yes?” Colin asked pointedly. “Well, just so you know, the doctors say he’ll be fine. The damage really wasn’t that bad,” the orderly said, managing to sound patronizing and reassuring at the same time. Colin felt his shoulders tense up in reaction to the young man’s casual words. “Not that bad?” His voice was ominously low, and the orderly stood up a little straighter, maybe realizing how he had sounded. “Well...I mean...” Colin waved a hand at him, stopping the young man in mid-stutter. It didn’t really matter what this kid thought. Ryan was alive, and he was going to be okay. That’s all that mattered. “Has he woken up yet?” Colin asked quietly, keeping his eyes on Ryan. He was really there, really alive, looking so calm and peaceful... “Um...yeah, he woke up,” the orderly answered, looking away nervously. Colin narrowed his eyes as he noticed the movement. “What? Is there something you’re not telling me?” Colin asked, looking at Ryan again as if his condition might have changed. The image that flashed through his mind was the same one he had seen earlier -- Ryan with his middle cut open, spilling blood and internal organs onto the floor. “Well...he woke up when they tried to take his pants off, and I guess he got really upset...he was asking for you.” Colin felt a twinge of guilt when he heard this, and he held Ryan’s hand a little tighter, giving the sleeping man an apologetic look. “Anyway,” the orderly continued, “he was trying to get away, and they were afraid he would hurt himself, so they gave him some sedatives. He’ll be fine, he’s just going to sleep for a while.” Colin nodded and looked back at Ryan, tracing his fingertips over the familiar features. He let the back of his hand brush gently at Ryan’s cheek, and then tucked an unruly lock of hair behind his ear. “I’m sorry Ry, I should have been there,” he whispered, still carding his fingers through Ryan’s hair. Colin leaned over and pressed his face into the hollow of Ryan’s throat, holding him as close as possible considering their awkward positions. He heard the door close as the orderly left, and he closed his eyes, breathing in Ryan’s familiar scent. His body was warm and inviting, and Colin felt his eyes slipping shut again. Being with Ryan, he was able to forget his humiliating experience with the doctors and the police, and his semi-sore ribs. Images from the time he had spent in the basement circled in his mind, trying to tear away his sense of comfort and security, but he just snuggled in a little closer to Ryan and blocked them out. Exhaustion finally won the battle with his emotions, and Colin drifted away. * * * * * Part 8 A gentle hand on his shoulder woke Colin, and he lifted his head from Ryan’s chest, blinking sleepily. He slowly straightened, wincing as his back, neck, and bruised ribs complained about sleeping in that awkward position. Rubbing blearily at his eyes, Colin managed to focus on his company -- and found himself looking into the worried eyes of Drew Carey. “Hey, Drew,” Colin said, yawning. Drew perched on the edge of Ryan’s bed and gave him a sympathetic look. “Sorry for waking you, but that looked really uncomfortable,” he apologized, gesturing toward the spot on Ryan’s chest where Colin’s head had been lodged. Colin nodded, rubbing at his sore neck. Drew was watching him, no doubt taking inventory of the various scrapes and bruises visible on Colin’s skin. “S’okay, I’m glad you’re here,” Colin replied, giving Drew a weak smile. “So...are you okay?” Drew asked, looking worriedly at his friend. When he had first walked in the room, he’d thought the image of his two friends all snuggled together was cute, but the smile had slipped of his face when he saw the way they looked. Both of them were noticeably thinner, and the bruises and cuts were all too visible against their pale skin. He was also startled by the growth of beard on Colin’s face -- he’d never seen the man anything but clean-shaven, and it looked very odd. He’d been worried sick ever since their disappearance, and he was very happy to see them both, but shocked by the little bit he knew of what they had been through. “I’m all right...doing a lot better now,” Colin added, glancing at Ryan again. Drew wasn’t sure if that meant he was better now that he could see Ryan, or now that he had company, but he shrugged it off. “Do you...do you want to talk about it?” Drew asked hesitantly, and a shadow passed quickly across Colin’s eyes. “I...yeah, I guess I do,” Colin answered after a moment. Drew was looking at Ryan, frowning at the bruises and bandages. Colin followed his gaze, and said, “Ryan’s the one who got hurt the most. They were really after him, I was just there for...control.” Colin’s voice thickened; became short and bitter. “What do you mean?” “Well,” Colin paused, trying to work out how to put this, and then continued, “Chris wanted Ryan to cooperate. He was such a fucking control freak, so damn manipulative...” Colin paused, and took a steadying breath. “So he threatened me to make Ryan do what he wanted.” “What did he want?” “To control him. To hurt him, and rape him, and break him.” Colin felt anger rushing up again as the memories came back. Drew put a hand on his shoulder, and Colin looked at him, lifting his hands in a gesture of frustration. “I just wish I could make that fucking psycho suffer for what he put Ryan through! I wanted to take that damn razor away from him and cut his dick off, I swear... I didn’t think it was even possible to hate someone so much!” Colin was shaking, and Drew scooted a little closer, rubbing at Colin’s shoulder with his hand. He wondered briefly what razor Colin was talking about, but didn’t ask. He would probably find out soon enough. “What kind of sick freak would do something like that?” Drew shook his head, narrowing his eyes. “Look, why don’t you tell it from the beginning?” Drew asked, keeping his voice calm and understanding. It took an effort -- he was seething inside at the knowledge that his friends had been so mistreated. Seeing them bruised and battered, with needles and other hospital paraphernalia adorning their too-pale bodies, made Drew’s stomach tighten in anger and shock. But he stayed cool on the outside, knowing Colin needed to get this out. He was worried that his friend was focusing too much on Ryan and ignoring his own obvious trauma. Not that he wasn’t worried about Ryan too, but he couldn’t do anything for the sleeping man right now. Drew could do something for Colin though, and he felt pretty confident in his ability to handle the older man. Colin had been in shock when he made the phone call that brought Drew rushing to the hospital, and it looked like that hadn’t changed. The calm, sympathetic approach was effective though, because Colin nodded, and began. “We went to Ryan’s house to get some things, and they broke in. Snatched us out of the house, and threw us in their van...it was all really fast. We never had a chance to get away -- fucking son of a bitch knew exactly what he was doing. I’m guessing it was his house we went to, cause the basement had...special features. They took us down there--“ “They?” Drew interrupted. “Yeah, Chris was the boss, but he had Jack and Ben...Benny...with him. They were supposed to deal with me, I guess, cause he never let them touch Ryan. Ryan was his. Called him his ‘pet.’ Fucking possessive little shit...couldn’t even let Ryan keep his own name!” Colin paused and shook his head angrily, then looked at Ryan and gently brushed a hand down his cheek. The touch seemed to calm him, and he continued, taking a deep breath. “Anyways, they tied us up down there. And Chris made Ryan...made him go down on him.” “What? How the hell did he do that?” Drew asked, his eyes wide. “By threatening me, that’s how,” Colin answered, guilt coloring his voice. “Jack cut me with the knife, and they held me, and Ryan did it so they wouldn’t hurt me anymore. It really messed him up too -- afterwards, he just kinda hid in his mind for a while. God, I was so fucking scared.” Colin shivered, remembering how guilty and helpless he had felt. Drew moved closer again and patted his back, earning a grateful look from Colin. “Must’ve been hard,” Drew observed, still concentrating on calmly drawing the story out of his friend. Colin nodded miserably. It had been more than hard, seeing his best friend being forced into something like that...but it was over now, Colin reminded himself. He looked at Ryan again; and again, the sight of him sleeping peacefully was a calming influence. “That wasn’t all, though. Fucking bastard was just getting started,” Colin growled, narrowing his eyes. “The next thing he wanted was to force me to...to rape Ryan.” “What the fuck?!” Drew exclaimed. “You would never do that!” “Of course I wouldn’t!” Colin replied, and then bit his lip, knowing that wasn’t entirely true. “Well...not if I had a choice. But he didn’t give me a choice. He was going to kill Ryan if I didn’t cooperate.” “You...you didn’t...right?” Drew asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. “No, I didn’t! But...I was going to -- to save his life! I had to!” Colin sounded defensive, and Drew rubbed his back reassuringly, nodding his acceptance. “But it didn’t happen?” “No, it didn’t...but I was going to. Even if he was going to hate me for the rest of his life, I didn’t have a choice. But he...he forgave me. Do you have any idea how hard that must have been? When he knew that I was going to go through with it? That I was going to... God, I still can’t believe he forgave me. He was so fucking scared of me, Drew...and I just couldn’t take it. I completely lost it.” Colin felt his throat getting tight at the memory. “I was trying so hard to make him see, begging and pleading and...fuck, even crying. I just had to make him see that I was doing it to save his life...and he believed me! Can you imagine that? I was telling him that I was going to rape him for his own good, and he actually believed me. He trusted me that much.” Colin swallowed and blinked rapidly, looking at Ryan with amazement. He wondered what he had ever done to deserve Ryan. Drew nodded his understanding, still rubbing Colin’s back in slow, soothing strokes. He glanced at Ryan again, raising his eyebrows. He shuddered slightly as he pictured the scene that Colin had just described, and then asked with some trepidation, “So...what happened next?” “Chris got mad,” Colin answered, smiling grimly. “Ryan fucked up his plans, whatever the hell they were. So he separated us...had Jack and Ben drag me away to another room so he could work on Ryan alone.” Colin picked up Ryan’s hand and held it tightly, needing a tangible reminder that they were together again. “They chained me up in there, and I could hear Ryan screaming...God, it...it sounded like that bastard was tearing him apart.” Colin paused, shuddering, and squeezed Ryan’s hand tightly. He closed his eyes for a moment. “And then...then it just stopped. There was that terrible screaming, and then...nothing. I didn’t know if he was alive or dead, or what that bastard was doing to him, and I was completely fucking helpless.” Colin shivered and Drew pulled him in to a one-armed hug, which Colin accepted gratefully. With Drew perched on the edge of the bed, he was sitting higher than Colin, and it was easy to let his head rest against Drew’s side as he continued. “I don’t know what happened to him after that. I mean, I do, but not the specifics...how long were we gone?” Colin asked, needing a breather from the memories for a moment. “Nearly a month,” Drew answered, wondering why Colin was changing the subject. Colin just blinked, trying to understand what Drew had just said. A month...to his surprise, he didn’t really have a reaction. The word was meaningless. A logical measure of time meant nothing when held up against the crazy, nightmare-like basement. A month down there could be a year, or a day, or anything. A month... “What happened to you after they put you in that room?” Drew asked, interrupting Colin’s thoughts. “Um...they, uh...” Colin ducked his head, hunching his shoulders in embarrassment. Drew felt his stomach tighten nervously; he had a good idea of what was coming. He felt a rush of anger at the bastards who had put his friends through this. “Its okay, Col, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Drew said softly, patting Colin’s shoulder reassuringly. “No...I...I have to. It’s just...it’s hard.” Drew nodded -- he knew just how hard it was. When he wrote his secret into his book, it had been very frightening -- like showing the whole world his weakness and vulnerability. When he had spoken to Colin on the phone, and heard him talk about ‘they wouldn’t stop touching me,’ Drew’s heart had leapt into his throat as he assumed the worst. He was keeping his responses minimal and his reactions sharply in check because he knew Colin needed a calm listener right now, not anger, frustration, and shock. From the moment Drew walked into the wreck of Ryan’s house, he had been running on worry and caffeine. He had, of course, contacted the police, but there was very little they could do. He had showed them the creepy letter, but it came up negative for fingerprints and the envelope hadn’t been sealed, so they couldn’t get DNA from the saliva. There had been a search of the house for evidence, but it was merely a formality. Anyone who took those kind of precautions with a letter wasn’t likely to leave fingerprints and such at the actual crime scene. Drew had even hired a private detective, but had gotten the same results. It chilled him to know that if Colin and Ryan hadn’t escaped on their own, they would never have gotten out. Now, seeing his close friends battered and traumatized, he wanted to either let himself fall apart or run down to the police station and kill that crazy motherfucker. But he held on for Colin’s sake, waiting with forced patience for him to find the words. “They got me in that room...and they took my clothes off,” Colin began, pressing his head against Drew’s side. It was easier to tell the story when he didn’t have to look at his listener, and leaning on Drew was like leaning on a big teddy bear. Ridiculously cutesy, but true. “Jack was pissed off at me...I bit him earlier, when Chris was making Ryan...making him...you know. Go down. I...I guess he wanted to hurt me, so he talked Benny into...groping me. You know what I mean? At first, that’s all it was...but they kept doing it more, and I couldn’t make them stop. I wanted to yell at them to get their fucking hands off me, but every time I said something, that asshole just twisted it around and used it against me. I couldn’t do anything right! Everything I did just got me fucking deeper...I didn’t know what to do. I had no control over the situation, y’know? It was just...I couldn’t...” Colin trailed off, breathing rapidly as the memories sent him sinking into panic. Drew was right there, stroking his back, rocking him gently. Ryan’s hand was still in his, and Colin squeezed it as he buried his face in Drew’s chest. “Its okay, man...take it easy...you don’t have to say anymore. You’re safe now, Col, you’re okay. I’m right here...just hush now,” Drew murmured, holding Colin against his chest. His fury at those bastards grew with every trembling word out of Colin’s mouth, and Drew gritted his teeth in frustration. There was nothing he could do about that right now; all he could do was try to make things easier for Colin. “Just relax, Col, I don’t need to hear the rest--“ “No. I have to finish,” Colin said, his voice muffled against Drew’s chest. “It gets worse. They...um, they got me on the floor...on my hands and knees.” Drew found himself picturing the scene -- Colin, naked and scared, forced to the floor by two faceless men, being pawed at and groped relentlessly -- shaking his head quickly, Drew tried unsuccessfully to dismiss the images. “Jack was holding me, and Benny kept trying to...to get inside me. He didn’t, but he...um...he got his...his...” Colin trailed off, unable to say it. His voice had gotten thick and choked, and he had to force the words out past a lump of emotion. Drew patted his back encouragingly, and Colin closed his eyes and made himself finish. “He got his fucking fingers in me... I was thrashing around so hard, trying to kick those bastards, but I couldn’t... I couldn’t fucking make them stop, there was nothing...I just wanted to make him get the fuck out of me! I had to make him quit touching me, and I...I just...” Colin’s tenuous control snapped, and he burst into tears, sobbing in Drew’s arms. Drew felt his own chest tighten as he held Colin, and he found himself remembering that long ago childhood violation. He knew just how Colin felt, and he rocked the shaking man, looking at him with compassion. “I know, Col...it’s okay, you’re all right. It wasn’t your fault...nothing you could do. You’re safe now...right here with me and Ryan. You’ll be okay.” Drew continued to repeat his calming words, and Colin’s sobbing quieted after a few minutes. Colin’s chest kept hitching, and he sniffled slightly, taking long, ragged breaths. He let his eyes stay shut as he lay in Drew’s embrace, enjoying the reassuring contact. In his worry over Ryan, Colin he had forgotten all about what had happened to him. Drew’s warm presence felt amazingly good, and Colin let himself relax into it, making pleased little murmurs in his throat. Feeling Ryan’s long fingers still entwined with his shorter ones, Colin was reminded that the worst was yet to come. What had happened to him wasn’t important. Ryan...God, he must be so much worse off than Colin was. Colin felt guilty even complaining about what Jack and Ben had done to him. It was *nothing* in comparison to what that crazy son of a bitch had put Ryan through. Steeling himself, Colin opened his eyes and lifted his body slightly, still leaning on Drew but not as much. “They didn’t actually...you know. God, this is so fucking hard... They would have,” Colin said, his voice still rough with tears. “Chris interrupted them just before they would have... He said...he said they should go see what he was doing to Ryan. Said it would be a ‘learning experience.’ God, Drew, that guy was so fucking nuts! He said Ryan would either be broken, or...or die. And yet he stopped them from raping me. Fuck if I know why! Anyway, they didn’t try that again. They messed with me...teased me, made me beg for food, that kind of thing, but they didn’t try to rape me again. I was going mad. Truly insane just... wondering and worrying and I was so fucking scared of what Ryan was going through... I didn't hear the screams again. I didn't know if he was alive and I kept... wondering if I was going to see him again, and if I would recognize him... I mean, I was scared he'd take my Ryan away and I'd be returned with nothing but a shell, like he'd done after the first time he was... forced...” Colin paused and lifted his head, twisting to look at Ryan again. Once he had reassured himself that Ryan was still there, and still sleeping peacefully, Colin let his head drop back against Drew’s side. Drew took another look at the sleeping man, taking in the heavy bruising and the strangely puckered looking cuts. Other than the physical damage, Ryan looked like himself. But that could all change when he woke up, and Drew bit his lip in worry for his friend. “How did you guys get out of there?” Drew asked, hoping to hear something that would cheer him up. “I conned Benny into letting me out of the chains -- he’s not exactly the brightest crayon in the box, y’know?” Colin said with a smirk. Drew was heartened to see a hint of humor in Colin -- it showed that underneath all the bruises, Colin was still fundamentally the same. He only hoped Ryan would turn out the same way. “Anyway, I knocked him out, and took his clothes,” Colin continued, earning a grin from Drew. “I went looking for Ryan, and...” He faltered, his free hand clenching into a fist so tight that the knuckles turned white. Colin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to get a grip. “And you let him go, and got the hell out of there?” “No...no, that’s not what happened,” Colin answered, glancing down at the hand he held. He focused on it, making himself see this clean, smooth hand, safely tucked into his, rather than the filthy hand pressed into the dirt floor, supporting the bleeding, battered body of his best friend. “When I found him, Chris was...hurting him. Forcing him to...well...you know. Forcing himself on Ryan. Oh hell, the bastard was fucking raping him, okay?” Colin’s voice rose as he saw the scene in his mind again. Drew’s eyes widened in shock, and then narrowed again as Colin continued to speak. His words came out almost mechanically, sounding forced and somehow...absent. Like he wasn’t even thinking about what he was saying, but pushing it out anyway. “That motherfucker was raping him, and Jack was watching. Ryan was totally quiet -- and I mean, totally. Not making a fucking sound. He was obviously hurting, I could see the pain in his face, but in complete silence...it was creepy. I mean, shit Drew, what the hell did that son of a bitch do to him to make him like that? To make him just...take it that way? I wanted to stop it so bad, so fucking bad...it was all I could do to hold back, to wait... Then, he made just this tiny little sound, and Chris stops, and reaches for this straight razor...” Colin had to stop for a moment as the memories threatened to make him fall apart again. He swallowed hard, taking quick, even breaths in an effort to maintain control. Setting his jaw in grim determination, Colin forced himself to finish the story. “He gets this straight razor, and it’s been sitting with the sharp end in a candle flame, so the metal is red-hot. He takes it, and he...and he cuts Ryan with it, real slow. Just slices right into him, and the motherfucker is *grinning* can you believe that? He was actually fucking getting off on it! I can see that hot blade burning the skin, and it’s gotta hurt like hell, but Ryan *still* isn’t making a sound, he’s actually biting his lip till it fucking bleeds to keep from crying out. And I just fucking lost it.” Colin could feel the anger again just talking about it, and his breath hissed rapidly between his clenched teeth. Drew was beyond simple tension; he could feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest and he clutched at the bed sheets to keep from hitting something. All he wanted was to hunt down that psychotic fucker and kill him. Slowly. “I hope you hurt that son of a bitch. I hope you hurt him really fucking bad,” Drew snarled, clenching his fists tightly. “I did, but not as much as I wanted to. Nothing could ever be enough for that bastard,” Colin replied, his eyes narrowed to slits. “I had Benny’s knife, and I ran out there, screaming my head off. It got kinda crazy from there...everything happened really fast. I remember seeing Ryan... like that... and... God... Ryan... I... I got Chris in the leg, I think. I know he pulled away 'cause Ryan and I just... you know, we just looked at each other for a second. I was so... I was so happy to see him alive, but at the same time, I felt so awful for not stopping this sooner, for not being there for him. God, I could see how he was hurting, so bad, and I just... I swear I felt it too.” Colin trailed off, his voice thick with emotion as he remembered the long look he and Ryan had shared. The heady current of feeling that had passed between them in the space of a heartbeat. Colin turned to gaze at Ryan again, and Drew raised an eyebrow at the pure love he saw in Colin’s dark eyes. He wondered if Colin even knew how clearly his feelings were showing. “Then Chris picked up his gun,” Colin continued, still keeping his eyes on Ryan. “He pointed it at me, and he was so close, I didn’t have a chance. Ryan saved me...after everything he’d been through, he jumped up and knocked me out of the way, and put himself between us. Chris had that gun pointed straight at him, and Ryan just stood there, naked, bleeding, shaking like a leaf, but staring him down just the same.” Colin’s eyes flashed pride in his friend, and Drew nodded, giving Ryan an impressed glance. “Jack grabbed me, and I was fighting with him, and Chris almost shot Ryan...God, it was so close. I could’ve lost him just like that, right before my eyes.” Colin shivered, his mind conjuring up an image of Ryan being shot: the spray of blood flying into the air, the shocked pain in those green eyes, the long, lanky body collapsing to the ground as the chest rose and fell for the last time. Shutting his eyes and burying his face against Drew’s chest again, Colin tried to banish the haunting image. Drew held him, his own mind creating similar scenarios. As one, both men turned to look at Ryan again, in an effort to remind themselves that he was still breathing. “Chris and Ryan were struggling for the gun, and I was fighting with Jack, and Chris tried to shoot me, but Ryan pushed him at the last second, and he hit Jack instead. Bastard took me down with him though...he died right on top of me. He was on my chest, looking straight at me, and then suddenly, his eyes were still open, but they just weren’t looking at anything. I could feel him bleeding all over me, and his body...changed. It got heavier, somehow. I guess that’s what they call dead weight,” Colin added with a short laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob. Drew shuddered at the description and hoped that was the last hideous thing Colin had to tell him. He wasn’t sure how much more of this story he could take. “Ryan got the gun away from that crazy bastard, and turned it on him. He was shaking all over, and his eyes...I’ve never seen Ryan look that way. He was ready to kill Chris, I’m sure of it. And there’s no doubt in my mind that he deserved it -- no fucking doubt at all. But I couldn’t let him. I thought I was helping...thought I was doing the right thing, but now I’m not sure. It just...I wasn’t even sure then, not really. But I told him not to, and he turned to look at me, and that’s when Chris came at him from behind. Ryan saw him just in time, and hit him in the head with the gun. Chris went down, and Ryan just stood there, shaking. Then he dropped the gun, and collapsed. I swear my fucking heart just stopped for a second. I didn’t know if he was okay, or he just dropped dead or something; I was so freaking scared.” Colin’s voice broke for a moment and he brought Ryan’s hand to his face, rubbing his cheek against the smooth knuckles. “Was he all right?” Drew asked anxiously. “Yeah, he woke up a little later, and we got out of there. Went upstairs, got some water, called the police...and that’s when we called you too. But he’s...he’s different, Drew. The things Chris did to him fucked up his mind somehow. He’s not my Ryan anymore.” Colin’s voice was flat, low and depressed. He sounded empty. Drew raised an eyebrow at the phrasing...my Ryan? He knew Colin and Ryan were close, but, not for the first time, he wondered just how close they were. Colin’s story finally seemed to be over, and Drew let out a long breath, slumping on the bed. Listening to all that had happened to two of his closest friends had really drained him. If the proof wasn’t before his eyes in their scarred, pale bodies, he would have dismissed the whole thing as a nightmare. “He was so fucking crazy, y’know?” Colin said suddenly, his eyes dark and frightened. “Chris had this room in his house...it was all Ryan. Pictures, and other weird shit...when Ryan saw it, he freaked out again. Just went away somewhere in his mind, and I couldn’t get him to come back. I can’t...I keep seeing it all in my head, y’know? Those pictures, and Chris raping Ryan, cutting him, the pain in his eyes, and the nothingness there when he hides from reality...” Colin trailed off, lifting his hands in a gesture of helpless frustration. His mind flitted from one image to the next, leaving him lost in a wash of memories. Now that the story had been told, Colin had nothing to concentrate on, and he drifted aimlessly, getting more and more upset. Every time he thought he had successfully dismissed one horrifying memory, another popped up to take its place. Seeing Chris force himself into Ryan’s mouth...feeling those horribly invasive fingers enter his body...the blood on Ryan’s chin as he bit back his pain...the barrel of the gun widening like a black hole to pull him in...the fear and self-loathing in Ryan’s eyes after they kissed... Drew looked at Colin in alarm, feeling the older man shake violently against his chest. Colin’s wide, dark eyes were filled with anguish; his mouth set in a tight line of tension; he stared at nothing at all, shaking his head slightly and making little whimpering noises in this throat. “Colin? Are you all right? Col?” Not getting an answer, Drew gently turned Colin’s face until their eyes met. For a moment, the intense eyes seemed to look through him, and then Colin focused. Pure misery radiated out through a sheen of unshed tears, and Colin’s mouth worked as he tried to find the words. “They...hurt him...hurt me...I couldn’t...oh, God, Drew...” Collapsing under the onslaught of emotions and memories, Colin burst into ragged sobs and clung to Drew’s solid warmth. Drew held him tightly, stroking his back and trying to control his own reaction. Hearing the story, and seeing the physical evidence before his eyes, had tested the limits of Drew’s self control. The last month loomed over him, day after day of worrying, wondering, and thinking about what could be happening to his friends. And now, he had found out that the truth was far worse than anything he had imagined -- except that they were alive. He glanced over at Ryan, looking so frail and innocent on the bed; he always looked childlike when he slept. That quiet vulnerability was the last straw, and Drew pressed his face into Colin’s shoulder and wept. At that moment, a nurse poked her head in the door to check on Ryan, only to be confronted with a rather unusual scene. The patient was fine, still peacefully sleeping off the sedatives. However, his two visitors were anything but fine. She thought the two men clinging to each other and crying like children looked slightly familiar, but she couldn’t quite place them. Glancing down at the chart in her hands, she saw the name of the patient -- Ryan Stiles. Then it clicked, and she grinned in amazement, staring at Colin and Drew. The hospital scrubs on Colin had thrown her at first, but now he was easily recognizable. The nurse quietly shut the door and skipped down the hallway to tell her friends. Drew and Colin never noticed their audience of one. Drew calmed down relatively quickly, perhaps because he had only heard the terrible story instead of living it. He continued to hold Colin, whispering soothing nonsense in his ear and stroking his back. Colin’s tears tapered off after a while, and he just lay still for a few minutes, with only the occasional hitch in his chest and watery swallow. Physically and emotionally exhausted, he relaxed into Drew’s warm embrace and felt himself drifting away. “Thanks Drew...needed that...” Colin murmured sleepily, only partially awake. Drew patted his back, feeling the older man slump against him as he sank deeper into sleep. “No problem man...think I needed it too,” he replied quietly, with a deep, ragged sigh. Colin was already fast asleep, and he didn’t answer. Drew looked around the room, knowing he couldn’t sit in this awkward position and hold Colin for much longer. Noticing that the room held two beds, and the other one was empty, Drew carefully picked Colin up in his arms like a sleeping child and rose to his feet. It was a slight strain, lifting the other man, but it should have been much harder. Colin was far too thin. Colin’s head nestled into the hollow of his shoulder and his arms wrapped themselves loosely around Drew’s neck. Hooking a foot around the rolling IV pole to keep it with them, Drew made his way over to the other bed and carefully set Colin down. He felt almost birdlike, light and fragile, and Drew shook his head in sympathy, thinking they must not have fed his friends nearly enough. When he let go of the sleeping man, Colin frowned slightly and curled on his side in a protective gesture. Drew stroked his hair gently, and the frown smoothed out, but Colin still managed to look forlorn. Biting his lip, Drew tried to think of a way to con the nursing staff into letting him stay. Then, inspiration struck, and he realized that Colin didn’t have to be alone -- Ryan was right here. Drew looked down, and sure enough, the beds were on wheels. He quickly pushed the two beds together, and draped Colin’s arm across Ryan’s body. Immediately, Colin scooted himself closer and Ryan shifted slightly, turning to the side. Drew watched, bemused, as even in sleep, the two men arranged themselves in that classic ‘spooning’ posture. He couldn’t suppress a grin, and wished he had a camera to capture the cute moment. He was sure Ryan and Colin would be embarrassed to hear about it later, and it would be nice to have photographic proof to tease them with. “Excuse me...” Drew looked up to see a young woman in a nurse uniform standing in the doorway. “Yes?” he replied, shifting to the side in an effort to block her view of Ryan and Colin. He wasn’t sure, but the hospital rules probably frowned on the patients spooning. “I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over, and--“ The nurse stopped suddenly, getting her first good look at the two sleeping men. Her face split into a wide grin, and she tilted her head, giving them an ‘awwww’ look. Drew recognized the look of a fan immediately, and he grinned, thinking he just lucked out. “Look, I’ll go, but can you let them stay together? They’ve been through a lot, and I think it would really be better for both of them...” Drew trailed off, watching the nurse’s reaction. “Well of course! They are just SO cute...oh wow, I can’t believe I got to see Ryan and Colin. Wow! And Drew too!” she added, looking at him and giggling. Drew chuckled, thinking that for once, being a celebrity had paid off. The nurse was actually kind of cute, and she was giving him that rapt star struck look...raising an eyebrow, Drew thought that his day had just gotten a lot better. “Listen,” he began, walking with the nurse out of the room, “when’s your next break?” * * * Ryan woke first, and stiffened, not knowing where he was. His body felt strangely numb, and he was wearing some unfamiliar garment that left him chilly. The room was darkened, but he could see enough of it to know he had never been there before. Fear was just beginning to set in when an arm tightened across his chest. Ryan recognized the touch immediately as Colin’s, and he stiffened for a moment before forcing himself to relax into the embrace. If Colin was holding him that way, then that’s where he should be. Don’t fight it -- fighting only leads to pain. Besides, there was just something about being held that way, feeling the warm presence against his back; that made him feel safer. Chris had certainly never touched him like that, with such gentleness. He wasn’t sure what Colin was going to do, what would be demanded of him; but for the moment, the touch felt good. And it had been a very long time since he had felt safe. As long as Colin was happy with him, everything was fine. He was doing as he was told, and not being hurt. He didn’t think of anything more complicated than that, and he easily slipped back into sleep. It wasn’t so easy for Colin when he woke up a couple hours later, shaking and gasping from a nightmare. He didn’t remember the images, only that they had been terrifying and had something to do with Ryan being cut into pieces while he watched helplessly. Colin shivered, and held Ryan a little tighter against his chest, burying his face against the soft brown hair at the nape of his neck. The familiar, intoxicating scent calmed him, and he felt the fear of the nightmare beginning to fade. He was briefly puzzled to find himself apparently sharing a bed with Ryan, but after a few moments of thought he realized Drew must have put them together. It had been good to tell Drew the story. Colin felt lighter -- cleansed, somehow. He wasn’t sure how long he had been sleeping, but he didn’t feel tired anymore. However, he had no intention of leaving the warm bed or letting go of Ryan, so he simply lay there with his eyes open, thinking. **Safe. We're safe. I'm not cold or hungry. I'm not naked or alone. Ryan is with me... We're safe, we're okay; we made it. Maybe if I repeat it enough times, it'll start to sink in. It feels so good to finally be with Ryan...not only that, but I'm in a warm bed, with a full stomach and I'm holding Ryan. I can’t get enough of touching him. He's with me. *With me.* Not in some Godforsaken place, cut, bleeding and hurting, he's with me. Safe. We're free. I don't know what to think. I don't know which is the dream. Maybe Jack killed me and now I'm in paradise. Yet, maybe Chris was the dream, maybe I'm just finally waking up where I'm supposed to be. With Ryan. But I can still see the marks on him. The name on his back. That fucking asshole! If I snuck out of the hospital, bought a gun and shot him in his cell, would anyone care? I would. I'd be fucking happy. Just look at what he did to Ryan. God! The way he was acting, so frightened and submissive and...what did that fucking bastard do to him? How can I help? I just want to help Ryan. I want MY Ryan to come back. Want to argue with him about the latest news, play a game of chess and lose miserably, want him to tell me to "sit the fuck down Colin, I'm not finished with you" when we're disagreeing. I want him to hold me in his arms and tell me everything is going to be okay. Want him to take over again. Damn it I want my best friend back! And I know MY Ryan is still in there somewhere; I know it. I just have to find him, get through to him...God, I don’t even know what I’m talking about. How am I supposed to be any help? That motherfucking son of a bitch...Why? I keep wondering just...why? He had no right to go screwing around with Ryan’s mind. Or his body! What if he pushes me away? What if things don't work out? What if he...tries to hurt himself. God, what if he pulls back from reality again? Just closes up like he did the first two times... That scares the living shit out of me. God the last time he did this...when he saw those pictures, and that fucking altar of Chris's...I thought...I thought he was gone for good. I found a way to bring him back...When I kissed him...what the FUCK was that all about? He pulled away like I was poison. And that...hurts. Even if I should've known better, it still hurt. For a second, he kissed me back. I don't know if it was a purely physical response but it felt...right. I’m so damn confused...I don’t even know why I did it. I wanted to get through to him, but I should’ve known better than to fucking kiss him! Even the world's greatest IDIOT knows not to have sexual contact with a...rape victim. That's what he is, isn't he? ... How fucking stupid can I get anyway? And then the way he looked at me...I thought I'd promised never to make that look to appear in his eyes again. But I did. It was...something akin to betrayal, but so much worse. I don’t know what it was, but it hurt like hell to see it. I swear, Ryan, I'll prove you can trust me. I’ll take care of you, and somehow, I’ll find a way to bring you back. We’ll get through this together, because there’s no way I’m letting you out of my sight ever again.** Ryan shifted slightly, moaning in his sleep, and Colin stroked his chest, making little shushing noises in his ear. He could feel Ryan’s heartbeat speed up under his hands, and he tightened his arms a little more, rubbing his cheek against Ryan’s neck. Gradually, the taller man responded to Colin’s ministrations, relaxing into deeper sleep again. Colin smiled, feeling proud of his ability to soothe his friend. It was kind of an ego boost to know that his touch and his voice meant ‘safe’ to Ryan. He blinked slightly, realizing the room seemed lighter than before. Turning his gaze to the window, Colin saw the sky brightening as dawn stole over the horizon. He held Ryan and watched the sun come up, enjoying the moment of peace. Colin knew there was a long, difficult recovery ahead for his friend, but in that moment, he could believe they would make it -- together. * * * * * Part 9 Colin stepped into his house with a sigh of relief, glad to be coming home. Ryan followed, just as he had followed Colin everywhere lately. They had both been released from the hospital after only one night, thanks to Colin’s relentless pestering and Ryan’s rapid improvement. His fever had disappeared overnight with the help of antibiotics and intravenous fluids. The more serious cuts had been stitched, and the rest would heal on their own, although he would always have scars. Physically, he was well on the road to recovery. Mentally, however...that was another story. Ryan was extremely quiet; he spoke only to Colin and then only when he was asked something. Colin wished he could get Ryan to do something on his own initiative, or express an opinion -- to say *anything* to disagree with him. But Ryan seemed content to follow him like a shadow, touching him at every opportunity and nodding at everything he said. Every time he touched Colin, he got a smile of approval, which was very reassuring. It meant that he was on the right track, being good, and that he wouldn’t be punished. At least, he hoped that’s what it meant. So far there had been no pain, no cutting, but of course that could change. “You want anything, Ry? Something to drink?” Colin asked, gesturing for Ryan to sit down as he headed for the kitchen. Ryan gave him an uncertain look, not sure what response was required here. Sometimes Chris would offer him a drink, but if he reached for it, he would be punished. Other times it was okay to take it, but he was expected to say thank you. He never knew if speaking would bring punishment, and Chris never warned him beforehand. Ryan just had to guess as best he could, going by trial and error. Usually, it ended up being the wrong thing to do, and brought another brutal punishment. That was probably the whole point. Colin sighed, wishing Ryan would be a little more assertive. A little more sure of himself. Basically, a little more like the Ryan that he remembered from before all this shit. Right then, Ryan was looking scared again, almost pleading, and Colin thought it meant his friend didn’t want to be left alone in the living room. Shrugging, he made a ‘come on then’ gesture, and Ryan gave him a relieved look and hurried to catch up. He stuck close to the older man’s side, ducking his head and shooting nervous, darting glances at him from the corner of his eyes. Colin gently patted his arm, smiling reassuringly at him because Ryan seemed to be apprehensive all the sudden. Ryan’s shoulders relaxed somewhat as he followed Colin into the kitchen. Colin thought ruefully that when he had vowed to never let Ryan out of his sight again, he hadn’t meant it so literally. Pulling a soda out of the fridge, Colin turned and offered it to Ryan. The taller man took it hesitantly and went back to carefully watching Colin. So far he was doing all right, although that had been a scary moment when he wasn’t sure whether he should follow into the kitchen. Obviously he had missed some kind of signal, but Colin didn’t seem inclined to punish him. This time. Ryan kept his eyes open, not wanting to miss any more signs. He followed as Colin moved back into the living room and sank onto the couch. Ryan plopped down next to him, immediately snuggling into his side and laying his head on Colin’s shoulder. This was something that Colin had encouraged ever since they had woken up in the hospital, and it was a rule that Ryan found easy to follow. Chris had never held him like this, never showed him any kind of gentleness or affection. Ryan hoped that the rules wouldn’t suddenly change and make this kind of touching forbidden, because he felt starved for it. The want, the *need* to be touched was scary in a way, because Colin had kissed him, wanted the same thing that Chris wanted...Ryan thought he shouldn’t let himself like the touching. But he brought it on himself, of course, by being such a slut. Why else would Colin want him that way? Colin slipped an arm around Ryan’s shoulders and squeezed him gently. Ryan looked up at him quickly, and for a moment, he looked...frightened? Colin gave him another reassuring smile and Ryan smiled in return, slumping slightly as some of the tension went out of his body. Colin frowned in confusion, but made sure Ryan didn’t see it. He seemed to react very badly to any sign of displeasure from Colin, which was... troubling, to say the least. Much as he enjoyed the warm contact, Colin found himself worrying more and more about Ryan. The man was just so clingy and dependent, with an irrational need to be constantly reassured. Colin wasn’t sure what to do -- he knew this behavior wasn’t healthy, but he had no idea of how to make Ryan act like his old self again. He also didn’t know how long it would take, but it certainly wasn’t going to happen today. Colin stroked a hand through Ryan’s soft hair, noting the way his friend’s eyes closed as he relished the touch. It was almost sexual, and Colin swallowed, knowing this was definitely NOT the time to be thinking of Ryan that way. The truth was, ever since the whole experience, he found himself looking at Ryan in a new light. His mind kept coming back to the time Chris had tried to force them together, and Ryan’s hand had been on him. At the time, he didn’t want it at all, and yet his body had responded. Quickly. As if it had been waiting for just such a chance. He was reminded of the way his body had demanded water after even a few hours deprived of it. You don’t know how much you need something until you don’t get enough of it. And Ryan was the same way. Colin had always taken him for granted, in a way. Just assumed that he would always be there, that they would always be friends. But when he had thought that Ryan might be dead; that he would never see the tall, skinny goof again, it had hit him hard. Ryan meant more to him than he had ever realized, but he was starting to figure it out now. Ryan peeked out from between nearly closed eyelids as he felt Colin’s hand in his hair. It felt good, and Colin seemed pleased with his quiet acceptance of the touch, so he stayed still. Some part of him was saying that he shouldn’t like it, that it was dirty, that he was dirty for letting this happen, but that part was very weak. Maybe Colin was going to try and kiss him again now. Maybe he was going to do what Chris did. But at least it would be gentle. Well...so far Colin hadn’t hurt him. But then, so far he hadn’t broken any rules. At least, he didn’t *think* so... Ryan squeezed his eyes shut again, trying to keep his confusion off his face. Colin let his hand trace down Ryan’s cheek and along his throat, feeling the warm, soft skin. The sensation sent a strange tingle from his fingertips to an area disturbingly close to his groin, and Colin pulled his hand back like he had been burned. Ryan turned alarmed eyes on him. He bit his lip and hunched his shoulders reflexively, cringing in anticipation of some punishment. What did he do wrong? Was he supposed to pull away from the touches now? Sometimes Chris wanted him to struggle, and sometimes he was supposed to cooperate. Maybe Colin wanted resistance now. Maybe he was supposed to say something. Maybe he shouldn’t have closed his eyes. Ryan quickly examined Colin’s face, hoping for some clue about what he was supposed to do. Colin was frowning, and Ryan dropped his eyes, hoping that eye contact wasn’t the wrong thing. He could feel his heart speeding up as fear put a metallic taste in the back of his mouth. He didn’t know the rules anymore! Anything could bring punishment now...and he deserved it for screwing up. Colin had been so gentle and lenient with him, and here he was, destroying his chances of avoiding punishment. No...wait, this was *Colin.* His best friend...Colin would never hurt him! But...but that’s what he was for now. Just a thing to be hurt, Colin couldn’t do anything about that. Colin couldn’t... Oh...oh no...what if Colin decided he was a hopeless cause? What if he was sent back to Chris? No...please no. Ryan knew he could do better. He had to do better! Colin frowned in confusion when he saw the look Ryan gave him. It was terrified, pleading, and desperate, and Colin wasn’t sure why. Ryan seemed so jumpy, reacting oddly to the least little thing. Like the frown on his face -- it made Ryan look down quickly. Colin could actually see the taller man trembling, and he bit his lip. Something had clearly set Ryan off again, but damned if he knew what it was! Colin touched him tentatively on the shoulder, and Ryan flinched ever so slightly before becoming completely still. He still wouldn’t meet Colin’s eyes. “Ryan...what’s wrong?” Colin asked, watching Ryan carefully for any reaction, any show of spirit or defiance. He knew it had to be in there; Ryan had already stood up for himself a few times since their escape. There were no signs of that spirit now... Ryan was hunched over, tense and still. He had seemed to respond well to friendly touches and reassuring approval earlier, so Colin tried it again. He sure as hell didn’t know what else to do. “It’s okay, Ry...sshhh...please, don’t be scared...” Colin continued to murmur quietly as he slipped his arms around Ryan’s stiff shoulders. At first there was no response, and then Ryan seemed to relax again as he burrowed into the embrace. He wasn’t being punished! Whatever he had done, it must have been all right. Clearly he had done something wrong, but maybe he had made up for it somehow. When Colin wanted to touch him again, Ryan had allowed it, had made himself stop trembling... maybe that was it. Colin didn’t want him to resist. And he said not to be scared? Did that mean he should try to hide his fear? Or that he shouldn’t feel it at all? Ryan wasn’t sure on that one. All he could do was try and obey as best he could, try to anticipate the rules, and above all, don’t screw this up. Colin might want the same thing Chris did, and who knew when he was going to take it, but Ryan thought that it might not even hurt that much with Colin. Colin held Ryan as tightly as he dared, glad that he seemed to be doing something right. He never knew how Ryan was going to react. Maybe...maybe it would help him to talk about it. Colin knew it had certainly helped him to tell the story to Drew. “Ryan? Do you want to tell me what happened to you?” Ryan swallowed nervously, wondering what the right response was here. Colin seemed to want some kind of answer, so speaking was allowed...probably. Chris had loved to order him into silence and then demand an answer for something, punishing him when he didn’t speak, and then punishing him again when Ryan tried to answer, citing his earlier rule of silence. But Colin wasn’t that cruel...right? “What do you want to know?” Ryan asked quietly, his words slightly muffled by the way he was hiding his face against Colin’s neck. His breath tickled at the sensitive skin there, and Colin shivered slightly, feeling his skin tighten into goose bumps. “Why are you...like this? So...I don’t know...submissive? Compliant? I’m not sure how to put it.” Colin was speaking carefully, aware he was asking a difficult question. “Is...is it wrong?” “No, no, Ryan, it’s okay, you’re doing fine,” Colin said quickly, trying to quell the rising fear he heard in Ryan’s voice. “I just...I wanted you to tell me what Chris did. I thought it would make you feel better.” Oh, that was better. Colin had finally given him a clear command...but why did he want to know what Chris did? Did he want to do the same things? No...Colin wouldn’t do that. Maybe he wanted to know what worked best, what made Ryan the most obedient. It didn’t matter. Colin had told him what to do, and Ryan wasn’t about to balk him. “He...he hurt me. There was the cutting, and the...the other thing, the thing he made me do. He would feed me, sometimes, if I was good. And water too, as long as I followed the rules. He said...he said I didn’t have to worry about anything. He would take care of things. He said I shouldn’t think.” Ryan paused, wondering if this was the kind of thing Colin wanted to hear. He didn’t want to give details, didn’t want to remember...stop it! What you want doesn’t matter! Ryan hunched his shoulders again, and told himself firmly that if Colin wanted details, he would give them. “Did you? Think, I mean,” Colin clarified, encouraging Ryan to keep going. “I thought about you.” The statement hung in the air for a moment as Ryan held onto Colin a little tighter. “I fought him...it was so hard. Would’ve been so easy to just give up, to let him take over, but I thought about you. You wouldn’t let me give up. You were always there, making me fight, making me hold on. I didn’t...I didn’t want to. He always hurt me so much, and I didn’t want to...” Ryan shuddered slightly, and then cast a nervous glance at Colin. Even suggesting that he didn’t want to do something smacked of resistance and disobedience, but Colin didn’t seem to catch it. Maybe he hadn’t noticed. Or maybe it was okay, because Ryan was saying he didn’t want to fight, and fighting was bad. Compliance was the rule here. “But you fought him...that’s good Ryan. You did that yourself -- you kept yourself alive until I could get to you,” Colin said, trying to bolster Ryan’s self-esteem. He wasn’t sure what Ryan had meant about his being there, but he figured Ryan had imagined him. To think that Ryan put so much faith in him, so much dependence...it was scary. Ryan was saying he would have given up if Colin hadn’t been in his mind, urging him to hang in there. Colin had the distinctly uncomfortable feeling that he was being put on some kind of pedestal. “You kept me alive. When he hurt me...” Ryan trailed off and shuddered for a moment, and then continued. “I would think about you. I wanted to give up...to let him think for me and control me...it was hard. He...hurt me a lot. So much.” Ryan’s voice was getting thick, his body tense. He burrowed a little closer to Colin, hoping he was giving the right answers. Ryan knew that Colin really had been his light, the one thing that let him live through all of it. Yet he didn't know if that was a curse or a blessing. To survive was so hard... He... He'd wanted to survive. For Colin. And now, he was afraid of everything Colin did. He had merely switched places, improving his situation. But he was not free, never that, never again. Colin was better than Chris though. He couldn’t stand to go back to Chris again. If he had to go back in that dark place, with the pain and the cutting...Ryan thought he would just quit. Stop fighting, stop thinking, stop taking the food and water. Just let himself die. It would be easier that way. Better. “You’re all right now, Ryan. I’m so glad you’re all right.” Colin smiled at him, running his hands through the dark blonde hair again. Ryan closed his eyes and silently accepted the touch, telling himself not to like it too much. It was leading up to what Colin would eventually take from him, but maybe that was okay. After so many times with Chris, what difference did a little more make? At least he wasn’t cold anymore, or hungry or thirsty. The strange brightness that everything had taken on was gone with the fever. At least Colin wasn’t cutting him, or hitting him, or telling him what a slut he was, like Chris always did. If Colin wanted to take that one thing, well...didn’t he deserve it? For getting Ryan out of that dark place and away from Chris? He could take whatever he wanted. What Ryan wanted didn’t matter. Ryan didn’t make any reply to Colin’s statement. It wasn’t a direct question, and silence was always a safer bet. “Aren’t you glad to be out of there?” Colin asked, hoping to get more of a response out of Ryan. The big guy was too quiet, and it worried him. Oh no. You were supposed to answer. Now you’ve made him ask twice, and that’s never good. Ryan had to say something. Make some kind of reply, but it had to be the right one. He’d already fucked up by not answering the first time, now he had to fix it, and quick, before Colin got impatient. What answer did he want? It *seemed* like an easy question, but those were usually the tricks. “Uh...yes? I mean...sure...I’m glad. Is that...is that right?” Colin shook his head. What the hell had that fucking psycho done to him? Ryan seemed so terrified of getting anything wrong, and it was making Colin crazy. He thought if Chris were there at that moment he would have cheerfully throttled the bastard. “Now you listen up, Ryan,” Colin snapped, his anger with Chris lending his voice a hard edge, “You feel however you want to feel! You don’t have to be so damn scared all the time!” Ryan became perfectly still. Wrong answer, wrong answer, oh God, you fucked up, he’s mad now, you made him mad... Now, the punishment would start. Colin had been so patient with him, so lenient, and *still* Ryan kept messing it up. He couldn’t do anything right! No wonder Chris had to hurt him so much. He brought these things on himself. Couldn’t even follow the simplest of rules. Ryan was still in Colin’s arms, and he wasn’t sure if he should pull away. When Chris got angry with him, he was usually supposed to turn around and drop to his hands and knees. This was what Chris called the ‘ready position.’ Then, there would be cutting, or hitting, or...or the other thing. Or all of them at once. But maybe the rules were different with Colin. Ryan was frozen, terrified of making another wrong move. Colin saw the way Ryan’s eyes widened, and felt the taller man stiffen in his arms. He closed his eyes briefly, knowing that he had once again done something to upset his fragile friend. “No, Ryan, its okay, I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at Chris for doing this to you.” Colin paused, and then had an idea. “Aren’t you mad at him?” He hoped that Ryan would respond, stand up for himself, and release some anger at that bastard... anything but the submissive attitude that he couldn’t seem to shake. Was he supposed to be mad at Chris? Ryan could vaguely remember a time when he had felt angry, but the punishment for anger was so brutal... Ryan shivered. Colin wasn’t mad at him. That’s all that mattered. He wasn’t going to be punished...at least, not right now. But was he supposed to say he was angry with Chris? Was that what Colin wanted? Last time he had given the answer that Colin seemed to want, and it had made him angry. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to speak. Maybe that had been the mistake. It was so hard, trying to figure out what the rules were when they kept changing. So far the only steady rule had been that touching was a good thing. Colin never pushed him away, and always seemed to approve of any contact. Ryan wished that Colin would stop asking him these difficult questions and just let him be quiet. He didn’t want to think about what the right answers were...didn’t want to think about anything. He only wanted to lie there in Colin’s arms and feel safe. Ryan snuggled against his friend’s chest, soaking up the warm contact like a dry sponge. He felt starved for it, desperate to be held and touched, to see the love and affection on Colin’s face. Lifting his head, Ryan stared into the dark brown eyes, a plaintive look on his face. Seeing the pleading in Ryan’s eyes, Colin realized he was only making things harder on his friend by trying to force a reaction. If Ryan wasn’t ready to deal with his emotions, he would just have to be patient. Putting a hand to the back of Ryan’s neck, he leaned forward slightly so their foreheads touched, and put as much approval in his eyes as possible. Ryan smiled, absorbing the look like an addict getting his fix. He turned his body until he was lying across Colin’s lap, being cradled in his arms like a baby. Colin obliged him, cuddling him close and tracing his features with one hand. It was working. Apparently staying quiet and cuddling was what Colin wanted. He was getting approval, and that meant he was safe. And...it even felt good, to be held like that. As long as he was being held that way, and as long as that was what Colin wanted, there was no danger of punishment. Colin seemed pleased, and Ryan allowed himself to relax a little. Finally, he was following the rules. If he could just keep from screwing up anymore, he’d be okay. //Holy shit, am I actually thinking that? Do I really think that Colin would hurt me? Just how fucked up am I, anyway?// The thought was only fleeting, and Ryan quashed it viciously, shivering. Chris had always seemed to know what he was thinking. Some part of Ryan knew that Chris had simply guessed and read his body language, but still, the increasingly rebellious tone of his thoughts was making him nervous. Trying not to think, Ryan burrowed a little closer to Colin. The close contact was decidedly pleasant, and Colin sighed in resignation. If he couldn’t cure Ryan’s clingy dependence yet, he could at least enjoy it. Ryan glanced up at him, and the look in his eyes...it was almost reverence. It made Colin uncomfortable. He realized that Ryan would do anything for him -- anything. It was a heady, frightening feeling. Ryan’s damaged psyche was in his hands, and the slightest fumble could make his friend even worse. And here he was, constantly messing it up. How many times since they had left the hospital had he upset Ryan? How many times had he said or done something careless that made Ryan freeze up and give him that helpless, desperately confused look? Colin felt like he was crossing thin ice, every step dangerous and fearfully taken. He never knew when a wrong step would affect Ryan. What if he did something to make Ryan withdraw into his mind again? Colin didn’t think he could take that. Every time he thought he had a handle on things, Ryan confused him all over again. He knew that Ryan seemed to want to be touched, but sometimes his touch would make the other man flinch. Ryan was willing to talk, but only if he was asked directly, and then he seemed terrified of saying the wrong thing. He responded well to approval, but Colin had to guard his reactions so carefully to avoid scaring Ryan, who seemed to panic at the least little thing. The tension was killing him. Colin felt too hot, and his breathing was getting rough. Having Ryan depend on him like that was almost suffocating. He felt pinned to the couch by the big man in his arms, and although Colin had never suffered from claustrophobia, he felt it now. He just...he couldn’t do this anymore. He wanted to be there for Ryan, and help him, but he kept making mistakes. Maybe he was causing more harm than good. Ryan seemed to be getting heavier, and Colin was suddenly reminded of the way Jack had felt on top of him as he died of the bullet wound. The suffocating feeling closed in around him and Colin stood up, roughly pushing Ryan off his lap and striding across the room. He stood by the window, looking out at nothing in particular and trying to catch his breath. Having Ryan depend on him that way...it was just too much pressure. Too big of a responsibility, and too much risk of making a mistake and causing some kind of permanent damage to Ryan’s mind. Maybe it was too late for that. Colin hunched his shoulders and tried not to think about what his little panicky escape might have just done to Ryan. Meanwhile, back on the couch, Ryan was staring miserably at Colin’s back and wondering what he had done wrong. //Oh no... what... I... I don’t understand. Did the rules change? I thought touching was okay. What did I do? He’s...he’s not looking at me. Maybe he doesn’t want to look at me. Maybe he doesn’t want to see the marks of what Chris did to me. What I made him do. I’m...I’m not like I used to be. I was different, once...I remember...and Colin was...I wasn’t afraid of him then. But he...he wants that thing from me! Just like Chris! What right does he have to do that? No fucking right! He can’t...I can’t let him do that. This is COLIN, dammit! He would never hurt me that way! He’s not that fucking psychotic son of a bitch. Stop it! Don’t even think that way! Do you *want* to suffer? Are you trying to get yourself punished? Knock that shit off before you get in trouble! Just...be quiet. Let Colin do what he wants. It won’t be so bad...probably. No...oh God, I can’t go on like this. I can’t...I can’t do this anymore. I’m so fucking scared all the time; I never know what to do... I don’t want to be scared. No! What I want doesn’t fucking matter! When am I going to learn that? Why do I have to be so fucking stupid? I screwed up again, did something to make Colin push me away, just cause I’m such a fucking slut. Chris told me...he had to hurt me. I made him do it. I fucked up, broke the rules, he had to discipline me. It was for my own good. He said so... and I... oh, I don’t fucking know. I don’t want to be hurt again -- stop it! Stop thinking about what you want! You fucking worthless whore, what you want is meaningless! Worry about what Colin wants. He’s the one that kept you alive in that hole, and he’s the one who got you out. If he wants to...to do that thing, then you will fucking well let him do it! // Ryan slowly stood, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. It was just too painful to look at Colin. One hand came up to tug at his shirt as he wondered if Colin wanted him to undress for him. Maybe he should just wait until Colin was ready to come back. Or maybe Colin was waiting for him, and delaying would only make him impatient and angry. Ryan glanced longingly toward the door. What if he just left? He could go...somewhere. He didn’t know where. Some place where no one would try to hurt him or...anything else. His feet actually took a shuffling step toward the door before he stopped short, horrified. What the hell was he thinking? Running away? That was *very* against the rules, and he knew it! “Ry? Going somewhere?” At the question, Ryan flinched, and his head shot up like a rabbit in a snare. He was caught! Colin swallowed guiltily when he saw the terror in those conflicted green eyes. He quickly moved to Ryan’s side, and then paused, afraid of doing something else to upset his already fragile friend. Ryan stood still, trembling, staring at the floor but occasionally giving Colin looks of desperate confusion. “Hey...what is it? What’s wrong?” Colin asked, tentatively stroking a hand down Ryan’s arm. Ryan stiffened, and then leaned into the touch. Don’t fight it, never fight; let him take what he wants. Don’t fight and maybe it won’t hurt. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, still staring at the floor. “I don’t...I don’t know what you want me to say. Please...I’m trying, I really am...just...do what you want. I won’t...” Colin frowned in confusion, wondering what Ryan was talking about. Unsure if his touch was welcome, Colin pulled back slightly, watching for any reaction. Ryan shot him a quick, wary look before dropping his gaze back to the floor. “What do you mean, Ryan?” Colin knew something was clearly wrong, but he couldn’t figure out Ryan’s reactions. “I...don’t you want to? I thought...you wanted to...you know. Touch me...like...” Ryan trailed off, biting his lip. “What? Of course I want to touch you! I mean...” Colin paused, suddenly aware that his words could have a sexually threatening context. “Not like that, just...I...” Ryan was staring at him, and Colin realized he was only making things worse with his hesitation. Ryan seemed to think he didn’t want to touch him, and that simply wasn’t true. In fact, Colin wanted to touch him a little too much. Deciding that actions spoke louder than words, Colin stepped forward and pulled Ryan into a tight hug, pressing the taller man’s face into the hollow of his shoulder. For a moment, Ryan remained tense and unresponsive, but that wasn’t what Colin wanted. It seemed that cuddling was now acceptable again. Ryan was relieved. It was the one thing that he knew for sure felt good. Closing his eyes, Ryan nuzzled against Colin’s neck, making little whimpering noises in his throat. Colin’s hands were stroking his back, sending delicious twinges through his chest and making his stomach flutter. Ryan brought his own arms around Colin’s body, holding him so tight that he hurt the cracked ribs, but Colin didn’t move. He was still feeling too guilty for pushing Ryan away earlier, a move that his friend obviously blamed himself for. It was finally sinking in that Ryan truly believed himself worthless. Just a thing that no one would want. Colin bit his lip, wondering how he could convince Ryan of the truth. He DID want to touch Ryan, and hold him, and...and a lot more. The feeling of Ryan’s mouth against his throat was only reminding him of just how much more. The long, lean body felt so warm and inviting against him, and Colin felt himself getting lost in the sensations. Afraid of losing control, he pulled back slightly, keeping their bodies together but looking Ryan in the eyes. This turned out to be a mistake. Ryan was giving him that look again, that look that said he was the single most important thing in the world and as far as Ryan was concerned, he could do no wrong. It made his head spin just to see it, and Colin swallowed hard. Being the object of so much devotion was sending his self-control somewhere over Norway. Ryan’s body was still against his, and that familiar, much loved face was barely inches away. He could feel Ryan’s soft, warm breath against his lips, and he parted them slightly, feeling lightheaded. Ryan was real. He was alive, and in his arms, and yet Colin still wasn’t sure. He needed to do something to really know that Ryan was okay. Something to make sure this wasn’t a dream. Colin couldn’t control his feelings any longer, and he leaned in, placing a firm, impulsive kiss on Ryan’s lips. At first, Ryan froze, his mouth stiff and unresponsive. But that only lasted a second, and then he responded obediently, parting his own lips and giving Colin a tantalizing swipe with his tongue. Colin felt his groin jump in response, and he increased the pressure, deepening the kiss. Ryan paused slightly, his mind spinning in a crazy, confused spiral. //Oh God, he’s going to do it now. He’s going to take what Chris took, he’s going to hurt me, I don’t want to... No. Let him. I have to let him. Just...be quiet. It’s Colin; he won’t cut me. I hope. Don’t fight it. Let yourself float away. Don’t even think about it. Just like when Chris did it. But this isn’t how Chris was! He never kissed me, and I never had to...to participate like this. I’m actually kissing him back! What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I just letting him do this? I can’t... I have to. I *owe* him, dammit! He fucking saved me! If he wants to take this, then he can damn well take it! I’ll give it to him, if that’s what he wants. I don’t...I don’t want to! It’s too much, it’s not fair... I can’t do this anymore... Stop it. Quit your fucking whining. When are you going to get it through your thick skull that what you want doesn’t matter? How many times will you make Colin punish you until you finally figure it out? Do you think he’s going to be lenient and patient with you forever? NO, dammit! I can’t be hurt anymore! I just can’t! I’m so fucking sick of being scared all the time... He’s my friend, for God’s sake! I shouldn’t have to be afraid of him! What did you just say? What the fuck did you just say? Are you out of your fucking mind? Don’t even *think* about fighting him. He treats you *way* better than Chris did. You don’t deserve the kind of gentleness he shows you. You’re a fucking whore, a worthless slut, and you always will be. Everyone is going to hurt you. Everyone is going to take from you. Everyone is going to rape you. No! I don’t...I don’t say that word. We don’t call it that. It’s just...that thing. Whatever you want to fucking call it, everyone is going to do it. Do you want someone other than Colin doing it? You want to go back with Chris, maybe? Because that’s what’s going to happen if you fight him. Just go along, let him, be quiet, and he’ll take care of you. But if you screw this up... I...no. I can’t just be quiet. I can’t let him do this. When Chris had me, Colin always told me to fight. And I did, goddammit! I fought! And I got away from him! I don’t have to let this happen. I...I won’t!// Ryan pushed Colin away hard, and took a couple steps back. Colin, still dazed from the feeling of Ryan’s mouth on his, blinked at the taller man in confusion. Ryan’s lips were swollen with the kiss, and his hair was softly mussed -- a very appealing image. But instead of arousal, his eyes were frightened, and flashing with angry defiance. Elated to see the spirit in Ryan’s eyes, Colin smiled, thinking he had done something right. “No! I...you can’t make me! I won’t do it!” Ryan’s voice was shaking, but he stood his ground, chin thrust out stubbornly. Colin felt the smile drop off his face as he realized what Ryan was thinking. “Ryan, I didn’t mean it that way... I just wanted to kiss you, but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” “Damn right I don’t! I’m...you’re...you can’t use me that way! I won’t let you!” Ryan was feeling stronger with every word, marveling at his newfound independence. He was doing it! He was really fighting back! “I’m not trying to use you!” Colin protested, but it fell on deaf ears. Ryan was thrilled with the heady feeling of freedom, and he headed for the door before Colin could try and punish him for his rebellion. His heart was hammering wildly and Ryan thought he might throw up, but he was actually getting away! Afraid he was losing something precious, Colin went after him, pulling him back forcefully. A little too forcefully, because Ryan whirled in panicked fury, half-convinced he would find Chris standing there, and he drove a fist into Colin’s jaw. Colin went down like a rag doll, and Ryan stood there for a moment, wondering what he had just done. The pain in his hand was a distant thing compared to the rush of fighting back. He could feel a kind of swelling pressure from somewhere inside, and he wanted to hit something else. He actually felt bigger, and more alive than he had ever felt. Colin was still on the floor, a glaring red mark already rising on his jaw, and Ryan stared down at him, breathing hard. His whole body felt tingly; he was fairly thrumming with suppressed rage. He just couldn’t stand still. He had to move, to act, to do something so he knew that he was free and his own man once again. The first step seemed obvious, and Ryan took it, walking out the front door and slamming it behind him. He never looked back. * * * * * Part 10 When Colin woke up, he had a pounding headache and his jaw felt about twice its normal size. Wondering why he was on the floor, he sat up slowly, moaning at the double pain from his head and his cracked ribs. Then the whole crazy chain of events came rushing back and Colin shut his eyes in dismay. **Okay, it’s official; I’m the most idiotic bastard to have ever walked this earth. I can’t believe I... For fuck's sake! You'd think I'd learn from my mistakes, I mean I already kissed him and... and I SHOULD learn! What the FUCK is wrong with me? Way to go Col, way to go. I mean he's so vulnerable and scared and... God, no wonder he hit me... shit, that still hurts. He really put some strength in it; I was out for at least 15 minutes. I feel like such a bastard... I wanted him to show some spirit, well I got my wish all right. He's just been through HELL for fuck's sake. Hell. I just... I should've given him some more time. I should've let him come to terms by himself. I can't even think of how he must feel right now. His best friend, the one person he trusts not to hurt him... ... Oh God... Oh shit. That's it. Fuck, that's it. He was afraid of me. Scared I'd hurt him... hurt him like Chris did. Rape him. It all makes sense now, his reactions to everything I did... He was scared that I'd hurt him. Oh holy FUCK! I can't... God... I can't believe I... It started with the first kiss... How could I be so STUPID! Oh yeah, he just escapes a month of... torture... and rape... God, and I wondered how come he was acting the way he did! Stupid, stupid, stupid! And when... Fuck...when I kissed him... I never realized... Jesus fucking Christ how stupid can I get? But he stopped me -- a little violently, but he fought me. That's gotta be good. Except that now, I can't be there for him... and that helped a whole bunch didn't it? I... want to be there for him. I want him to look at me and not flinch. I want him to feel safe with me. I'll be lucky if he ever looks at me again. God, that hurts. I can't... I don't think I can live without him. I can't believe I mistook the look he was giving me. It was utter devotion. But it wasn't out of love; it was out of fear. When he pulled away... the look in his eyes... That angry, wounded look. I would NEVER take advantage of him. Right? I mean...I wouldn’t...Oh, shit, I don’t even know! How much of a disgusting human being have I become? I remember being happy that Jack was dead. I’m still happy he’s dead. I wish the others were too. Actually no, I want to kill that bastard who hurt Ryan with my bare hands. And I thought I was non-violent! What the hell is wrong with me? What if...what if I really was trying to use Ryan? No... No, that's not it. It CAN'T be. I'm NOT like that. I would give my life for Ryan to be himself again. I would gladly take that fucking knife of Benny's and plunge it in my throat if it meant Ryan trusted me again. Why did I gamble with his trust like that? How could I kiss him for no reason? I think... I hope it was just the moment...him standing so close, that look in his eyes, the way he felt and sounded and...God, I want to do it again. I am so fucked up! My heart feels crushed...I’ve lost him. I don't deserve him. I don't fucking deserve him. But... I want him. I...think I love him. Not just as a friend, but as...as something more. Jesus Christ, what have I done?** Colin gingerly lifted himself from the floor and wandered into the kitchen. Making a makeshift cold pack out of a towel full of ice, he pressed it to his swollen jaw and sat dejectedly in a kitchen chair. His deep brown eyes stared at everything and nothing as he tried to work out his feelings. **Thank God he stopped me. If I had gone through with it, I don’t think I could live with myself. I don’t know if I can live with myself now, knowing what I was going to do. Oh Ryan, I’m so damn sorry... I can’t say it enough. So, so sorry. I swear I’ll never do anything like that again. I’ll never get a chance, because you’re never going to speak to me again. And I don’t blame you. I wish so much that I could just take it back, make it so none of this ever happened. But it’s too late... I’ve lost you, my best friend, the man I love. And there’s nothing I can do about it.** Covering his face with both trembling hands, Colin shut his eyes and dropped his head onto the table. He welcomed the pain from his ribs and jaw -- he deserved it. The guilt was like an impossible burden on his back, forcing his shoulders to slump miserably. Even trapped in that hole, not knowing if Ryan was dead or alive, he hadn’t felt this low. Because, even then, there had been hope -- a way out, a goal to shoot for. But now, Colin felt completely lost -- he had dug this hole himself, and could see no way out of it. * * * * * Upon entering his house, Ryan immediately locked the door and re-armed the security system. He paused for a moment, his body shaking with a crazy rush of adrenalin. Pausing only made his mind spin faster, and Ryan began to pace, taking deep breaths in a futile effort to calm down. //What...he...what the fuck?! What in the name of God is going on here? What the hell did Colin just try to do to me? He was going to...going to... He wouldn't! Not Colin! But... He...he wanted it. He wanted to... hurt me. NO! I know he wouldn't! But... then why the hell did he kiss me? What was up with that shit? God DAMN it! I want to fucking hit him again! Hit someone... something, anything. I want to... He did NOT just pull that shit on me! He's my best friend! Colin would never... Never... Who am I kidding? I was so fucking scared. I'm always scared. And I'm sick and tired of it. Why should I be scared after all? It's Colin, not Chris. Damn that motherfucking bastard! He had... no right. But he did. You're just a thing to be used, you know. A slut. No one cares for you. God, SHUT UP! This isn't me... it's... it's...not me. And it's not Colin either, dammit! And I...I hit him. I hurt him. And I *wanted* to hurt him back! And if he tries that shit again-- No. What am I thinking? What the fuck is wrong with me? He's going to be so fucking mad at me for hitting him. I can't believe I did that. It's not like he was doing anything wrong. And I was...no. I wasn't asking for it. Fuck you Chris! Get out of my head! I was NOT asking for it! This isn't *fair* dammit! I just... I can't think about this shit. I can't think, period. Why the hell am I shaking so bad? I can't even... Oh shit... Colin. Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... No! Why should I be sorry? HE kissed ME! He should be sorry! He was trying to... You should just have taken it. Now it's only gonna get worse. NO damn it! I fucking showed him. Nobody's trying *that* shit on me again, tell you that right now. Anybody tries to hurt me, I'm going to give them something to fucking think about. I can take care of myself. Don't need someone telling me what to do, how to think. Fuck that. I'll just... I'll just...what?// Ryan looked around, trying to find something to distract him from his whirling thoughts. Rubbing his hands nervously along his legs, he realized that he was still wearing borrowed clothes. He walked jerkily up the stairs, doing everything quickly, trying to work off some of his anger. When he entered the bedroom, he stopped dead. Everything was the same. Clothes, half packed into suitcases, strewn across the floor next to the overturned mattress. Closing his eyes, Ryan could see himself pulling clothes out of the closet and talking to Colin; confessing his fear, and the reassuring look Colin had given him. The memory was bittersweet, and Ryan started to feel the first pangs of regret. He’d had some fights with Colin over the years, but now... things would never be the same. The dresser was lying on its side where Chris had toppled it in a sudden fit of temper. Ryan’s shoulders tensed as he remembered how he and Colin had flinched when the heavy piece of furniture came crashing to the floor. He glanced quickly over his shoulder, more than half convinced that Chris was slipping into the room behind him. Ryan’s mouth felt dry, and there was a strange hollow sensation in his chest. And, of course, the closet door was still standing half-open. Like a man in a dream, Ryan slowly moved over and looked in the closet, picturing the way he and Colin had hidden inside, clinging together in fear as Chris and his ‘boys’ trashed the bedroom. That thought just led to another one about how good it had felt to be in Colin’s arms...how right and safe. Ryan shivered and wrapped his arms around his chest, seeing the whole abduction again in his mind. He found himself wishing that Colin was here to hold him again. //No. I don’t need Colin, or anyone else. Besides, he’s... He’s what? Not safe? That’s what you were thinking, isn’t it? You’re still afraid of him. No! I’m not fucking afraid of my best friend! I just don’t need anyone to take care of me, that’s all. I can take care of myself, dammit! I proved that when I hit Colin, didn’t I? That’s why you’re afraid of him. You think you’re going to be punished for hitting him. And you’re right. You fucked up, Ryan. Just how stupid are you? How many times do you have to be hurt before you learn? He’s probably coming for you now. He knows the combination for the security system-- Fuck no! Absolutely not! Colin is not fucking coming after me! He... he had it coming! He was... Okay, I don’t know what the hell he was doing, but I didn’t want him to do it! I had every fucking right to defend myself! Nobody can tell me to do that shit! I don’t have to, not for Colin, not for anyone! Right. You’re not the slightest bit scared about hitting him. I’m not! Shut the fuck up! Don’t make me-- Oh God. Chris used to say that. All the fucking time he said that. It was one of his favorite things. “Shut the fuck up! Don’t make me hurt you!” And now I’m saying it. What the hell happened to me? What did that monster do to me? What if... what if I was wrong to hit Colin? What if Chris made me into some kind of sick freak, just like he was? I... for a second, I liked that kiss. I liked having Colin touch me. I *wanted* it. Oh God, what the hell am I now? I... aw, fuck. I just don’t know. I... Colin... I’m so fucked up. I only know one thing for sure. I don’t want anyone around me. You just never know what people are going to do. I don’t need anyone, I don’t want anyone...no one is ever going to control me again.// Ryan slumped against the wall, rubbing at tiredly at his eyes. He was still weak from the whole ordeal, and right now even thinking about cleaning up the mess seemed impossible. He still felt cold and dirty -- no matter what, he couldn’t seem to get the feeling of that bastard’s touch off his skin. Suddenly a shower sounded really good, and Ryan shuffled into the bathroom. He shrugged the jacket off his shoulders, but hesitated at the pants. Shutting the bathroom door helped a little, but he still felt... exposed. Impulsively, Ryan reached over and flipped off the light switch. The ensuing darkness was much more comfortable, and he quickly stripped, feeling his way into the shower. The rush of warm water over his skin and the sweetly encompassing darkness did a lot to relax him, and Ryan leaned against the wall, half-asleep. As his eyes drifted shut, he had a sudden memory of waking up in Colin’s arms that morning -- and for a brief moment, feeling totally safe and at peace. Then he had remembered that kiss, and everything that followed, but before that... his instinctive response had been ‘home.’ He missed that feeling more than he had believed possible. The desire to be held was like a twisting hunger that only got worse with time. Chris had deprived him of a lot of things in that basement -- food, water, sleep, freedom, his very identity; but all those he had now. The one thing he didn’t have, couldn’t have, was simple human contact. Because Chris had poisoned it for him. Ryan’s eyes snapped open and he stared miserably into the wet darkness, wondering how long it was going to take before the things Chris had done to him stopped hurting. He had the sinking feeling that it was going to be a very long time. He frowned, scrubbing harder at his skin. He could still feel that bastard’s hands on him. It wasn’t going away. The dark that had seemed so comforting before was now frightening. What if Chris was in there with him? What if the feeling on Ryan’s skin really WAS his hands? What if the straight razor was getting closer and closer, sharp and merciless, ready to cut? Ryan yanked the shower curtain aside, letting in dim light from the beveled glass window. There was no one else in the shower. He stood there for a long moment, breathing hard, listening to his heartbeat hammer in his ears and watching as water spattered past the open curtain, wetting the floor. He didn’t care. He left it open. Chris wasn’t here, but he might come. If it was dark, he might show up. Ryan could *still* feel that touch, and he rubbed frantically at his body. It was everywhere. The ants from his childhood camping trip all over again. He grabbed the soap and slid down the slick shower wall, ending up with his long frame folded into the corner of the tub. Water rained down on his head, slipping in rivulets down his scarred back. He could feel it touching the cuts, the hot water stinging the raw wounds. Ryan welcomed the pain. It was better than the crawling sensation of hands on his skin. Lather was beginning to accumulate on his skin, white foam running down his legs and swirling around the drain. Ryan didn’t know how long he stayed in the shower. His mind was doing that floating away thing while his hands scrubbed endlessly. When he eventually came back down to earth, his skin was shriveled from the water. The water itself was cold, and it was making him shiver. The soap was gone. Ryan didn’t want to think about how long it would take to use up an almost new bar of soap. He could still feel those hands on his skin, but it wasn’t as bad as before. Maybe because he was almost completely numb from the cold water. It didn’t matter. The feeling would fade with time... at least he hoped it would. And there would never be one to replace it. Ryan was never going to let anyone touch him again. * * * It’s amazing how much the average person takes for granted. The ability to get food and water whenever you want it. The feeling of being clean and dressed. Sleeping as much as you want, whenever you want. The absence of pain. Ryan had taken all these things for granted before his time in the basement. Now, they were all marvelous gifts. To be able to wake up in his warm, clean bed and know that there was a kitchen full of food waiting for him. To know that he could take whatever he wanted from that kitchen, and actually feed himself. He didn’t have to take scraps from someone’s hand. To be able to take a long, hot bath, and then slip into warm, dry clothes. To feel *clean* again. The best thing wasn’t what he had, though. It was what he didn’t have. No one kicking him in the ribs to wake him up. No one telling him he was a worthless, disgusting slut. No one cutting him, or hitting him, or touching him. There were no chains around his ankles. He could walk around as he pleased. No one watched him while he used the bathroom. No one made derisive comments when he got dressed. No one hurt him. All simple, little things, but they made a world of difference. Ryan could actually feel his mind coming back onto a more even keel. It was a frightening feeling, because as he got closer to true sanity, he became more aware of just how close he had been to the edge. Not that he was fully recovered. Oh, far from it. The thought of anyone touching him still made him shudder. He took at least five showers a day, and usually a bath in the evenings. He couldn’t eat much at a time, or he would throw up. He’d tried that the first morning. After the long shower, he had collapsed into bed and slept for nearly twelve hours. If there were nightmares, he didn’t remember them. He’d been starving when he woke up, and a huge grin covered his face when he realized that he could eat as much as he wanted. That he could *feed himself* as much as he wanted. He didn’t have to beg for each bite like an animal. He made a huge breakfast; bacon, sausage, hot buttered toast, a big ham, cheese, and red pepper omelet, a glass of milk and another of orange juice; and he relished every bite. His stomach had rebelled after about half an hour, and he’d lost the whole breakfast, but he had still enjoyed eating it. Now he ate more carefully, but he didn’t enjoy it any less. Then there was the sleeping. Ryan thought he had never slept so much in his life. He was tired almost constantly. He took great pleasure in being able to lay down whenever he felt like it. Sleep deprivation does strange things to the mind. Ryan knew he had thought some really odd things when he was in that exhausted haze in the basement. Colin would’ve laughed about them with him... if they were still talking. * * * Ryan was nearly asleep on the couch when he heard the knock on the door. His head jerked up and he stared, flinching slightly. It was the same response every time the phone rang. Or anything happened that he wasn’t expecting. It made him nuts, but he couldn’t seem to stop reacting like that. Now, who was at the door? And what time was it, anyway? Ryan glanced at his watch and saw to his surprise that it was nearly five in the afternoon. He must have actually nodded off for a while. That had been happening a lot lately. Part of it was his body catching up for a month without nearly enough sleep, but it was also the nightmares he kept having. Despite his perpetual tiredness, he wasn’t sleeping well. It had been a week since he’d come home, and still, the nightmares came every night. They were relentless. The knock came again, and Ryan frowned. He wasn’t expecting anyone...was he? Nah...he didn’t want to see anyone. He wouldn’t have agreed to company anyway. So who the hell was it? Someone selling something? Probably. Better to just ignore it and they’ll go away. “Ryan? Are you in there? Is everything okay? I...I’m worried about you, man. You’re not answering your phone.” It was Drew, shouting through the door. Ryan watched the doorknob rattle, but it was locked. He always kept it locked now. And what’s this about not answering the phone? Oh...right. He had turned the ringer off the other day when yet another concerned phone call from Drew interrupted his first decent sleep in days. For a moment, he considered simply not answering the door, but that would only make Drew worry more. Eventually, he would try something drastic. Possibly involving police. Ryan sighed and got to his feet. He was dressed in old sweat pants and a tank top. It was cut low enough front and back so that the material wouldn’t irritate his cuts, which itched like hell now that they were healing. He opened the door while Drew was still knocking on it, causing the shorter man to stumble forward slightly. Ryan quickly took a step back to avoid any contact. Drew’s eyes widened as he stared up at his friend, and Ryan wondered what he looked like. He hadn’t been too fond of mirrors lately. He was clean though. Very, very clean. Almost compulsively so. “Uh...hey, Ryan.” Drew said uncertainly. “Come in,” Ryan replied quickly, looking over Drew’s head at the street. It didn’t *look* like anyone was out there, but you never knew. Some logical part of Ryan’s mind knew that Chris was in jail, but that didn’t stop him from regularly checking to make sure the door was locked. Drew did as he was told, and Ryan shut the door behind him, quickly turning the deadbolt and re-arming the security system. Drew watched all this with a slight frown. After hearing the story from Colin, he could understand some paranoia from Ryan, but it was still troubling to see it. When Ryan turned to press the buttons on his security keypad, his back was turned to the other man. Drew had his first clear view of the name carved in Ryan’s skin. Drew’s gasp made Ryan whirl, but there was no one else in the room. He frowned at the shorter man. “What?” “Holy fuck, Ryan, are you okay? That’s...God...Colin told me about it, but seeing it like that...” “Oh. It’s no big deal. I’m fine.” Ryan felt his stomach tighten at the mention of Colin’s name. Ever since he’d decided he would never let anyone touch him again, he’d thought of little else. He wanted the contact the way he had wanted water while he was in the basement. It was an actual physical need. Ryan fought it hard, digging in his heels and bringing his considerable stubbornness to bear. “Well...good then. I’m glad you’re doing all right...” Drew’s voice had that little upturned lilt at the end that made it a question. “Yeah, I’m fine,” Ryan said again. It occurred to him that they were standing there by the front door staring at each other like idiots, and he stepped past Drew into the living room, heading for the couch. Drew followed, and Ryan walked a little faster. He didn’t want the other man getting too close. Ryan dropped onto the couch and Drew paused uncomfortably for a moment before sitting next to him. Ryan immediately shrank to the end of the couch, drawing his arm up close in a strangely feeble, curled posture. It made Drew think of a very old man. He frowned at Ryan in concern, but the taller man only looked at him steadily, as if daring him to try something. Drew declined to take that dare. “I...well, *we* are all worried about you, Ryan. Why did you stop answering the phone?” “I turned the ringer off. It was waking me up.” “Oh,” Drew replied. “Well...okay, I guess that makes sense. So...you’re sleeping okay then?” “I’m fine.” Drew thought this must be some strange new definition of the word ‘fine’ that he was not previously aware of. Either that or there was some kind of echo in the room. “Uh...Colin says you’re not returning his calls.” “Was he calling me?” Ryan’s voice was perfectly even, but then, he was a skilled actor. Drew thought ruefully that if Colin were here, he would have been able to tell if it was an act. Biting his lip, Drew fell silent for a moment. “Look...Ryan...we’re really worried about you. I want to help, and so does Colin. He cares about you. After what happened... I just don’t see how you can be fine. It just can’t happen that fast.” “You don’t know anything about it.” Ryan said flatly, narrowing his eyes. Drew held his ground. He knew that Ryan wasn’t fine, no matter how many times he insisted otherwise. Drew had tried gentle cajoling and patience, and neither were working. Colin was going downhill, and Ryan was just getting more and more withdrawn. Now, if he had to be a little pushy, a little blunt, to help his friends, then so be it. “Okay, granted. I don’t know anything about it, but I know you. Or at least, I used to. Colin is going crazy worrying about you, and you’re ignoring him. I don’t know what happened between you two--“ “There’s a lot you don’t know, isn’t there Drew?” “Ryan...why are you getting mad at me? I’m only trying to help,” Drew said neutrally, giving his friend a worried look. Ryan only looked at him, his face closed and uninviting. At a loss for words, Drew reached out and put a hand on Ryan’s arm. He wasn’t prepared for what happened next. There was a flurry of sudden movement, a sharp pain in his wrist, and he was on the floor. Ryan was standing over him -- no, make that *towering* over him, his hands clenched into fists. Drew recoiled, clutching at his sore wrist with his other hand. From the way it felt, Ryan must have grabbed it and swung him bodily off the couch. “Ryan, what the hell--“ “No! Don’t you dare! Don’t you try any shit, I’m fucking warning you! I won’t let you! I swear to fucking God, you try anything and I’ll...” Ryan paused, and his eyes slipped shut as he took several deep breaths, struggling for control. Drew stayed on the floor, staring up at him with wide eyes. He’d seen Ryan’s temper a few times, but he’d *never* seen the big guy actually hurt someone. Ex-marine or not, he was shaking. “I...don’t do that, okay? Just...don’t,” Ryan said softly. His shoulders slumped and his fists uncurled, leaving his hands to dangly limply at his sides. He made no move to help Drew up. “Sure, man. Uh...do what?” “What you did. Don’t touch me.” Ryan actually shuddered a bit when he said the words. Drew carefully rose to his feet, wincing when he tried to put weight on his left hand. The wrist felt sprained. Ryan saw the way Drew favored the hand, and he ducked his head, giving the shorter man an apologetic look. “I...sorry, Drew. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just...I don’t want anyone touching me, is all.” “No, that’s okay. I can understand that.” Understanding or not, Drew made sure to take a seat with a good amount of space between him and Ryan. If the taller man noticed, he didn’t show it. He just sank back down onto the couch and put his head in his hands, staring at the floor. “What the hell is wrong with me?” Ryan breathed, and Drew nearly put a hand on his shoulder. He jerked his arm back before he actually touched. “Ryan... nothing’s wrong with you. You’ve been through something terrible, that’s all. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you like that. It’s my fault.” Drew said, tilting his head to try and see Ryan’s face. Ryan didn’t seem to hear him. “I’m a fucking monster. People try to help me, and I hurt them. I think things... in my mind, I sound like HIM.” “No, Ryan...I should have known better,” Drew argued. “It’s not your fault. And I’m okay...I’m afraid you’re hurting yourself more than anyone else. We all want to help you, Ryan. Colin wants to help you. Why won’t you talk to him?” “I...I fucked up.” Ryan was almost whispering. “Ryan, please, tell me what’s up. Colin won’t tell me what happened, but if it helps, he seems to think that he fucked up too.” Ryan’s head lifted, and he met Drew’s eyes. For a moment, he looked hopeful, but then his expression closed again. “He did. And...I don’t know. I just can’t talk to him right now. I can’t be around him.” “C’mon, let me help you. Please? Just tell me what happened.” Ryan shrugged. “Fine. You want to know? I hit him. Knocked him the fuck out. That’s what happened.” “What? Why? You two were inseparable in the hospital!” Ryan made a sound that was almost a laugh. “Don’t I know it. But...it’s complicated, okay? I thought...aw hell, I don’t know what I thought. I was fucked up...I wasn’t thinking right. I thought...I was scared of him.” “Scared? Of Colin? But he *loves* you, Ryan. He would never hurt you.” Ryan looked at him levelly. “No, he doesn’t. I’m not... he just doesn’t.” Drew sighed and shook his head. “Ryan...it’s true. You should hear him talking about you. He’s going out of his fucking mind over there. He’s been so worried about you. And if he did something stupid, made a mistake...well, people fuck up sometimes. Whatever it was, he’s sorry. He’s told me a million times how bad he feels about it, but he won’t actually tell me what he did. And I’m sure that under the circumstances, you hitting him made sense. You’ve been through a lot, Ry. A reaction like that is understandable. He knows that, and he completely blames himself for whatever happened. C’mon, Ryan. Level with me. What did he do that’s so bad?” Ryan went back to staring at the floor. His shoulders hunched a little more, and Drew could see the way the muscles moving under the skin made his scars change and stretch. He looked away, swallowing. He almost didn’t hear when Ryan spoke. “He kissed me.” “What?” Drew asked incredulously. “You don’t understand. I thought...I don’t know. I guess I...I thought he was going to try something. Try to...you know. Try to make me do something.” Ryan was muttering, still staring at his hands. It took Drew a few seconds to work out what Ryan was saying. In a way, it made sense. After spending a month being assaulted like that, a kiss from another man *would* set him off. It was just so hard to wrap his head around the idea that Ryan actually thought *Colin* would do a thing like that. It did explain a lot of things, though. Like why Colin acted so guilty whenever Drew called him. “Ryan...you do know that Colin would never do that, right?” A short pause, and then: “Of course I know. I told you...I wasn’t thinking right.” Drew paused. “Okay...I can see that. And I understand -- after what you went through, of course you were confused. Colin made a mistake, kissing you. After everything that happened...God, that must have scared the hell out of you. No wonder you were upset. And it’s great that you stood up for yourself. Leaving then was the right thing to do. That doesn’t mean that you never talk to him again. Ryan, I can see you’re miserable. No matter how many times you say you’re fine. And so is Colin.” Ryan shook his head stubbornly. “If I talk to him, he’ll want to see me. If I go see him, he’ll want to touch me. And...I can’t let that happen.” “Then tell him so! Tell him you don’t want him touching you, and he won’t. Ryan...” Drew sighed and scrubbed a hand through his short hair. “I just don’t want to see you hurting like this. You two went through something terrible together. You can help each other.” “You don’t understand. If I see him...I don’t know what’ll happen. I can’t...” Ryan didn’t know how to explain it. There was a powerful, unfocused feeling of *want* when he thought of Colin. If he was actually in the same room with his old friend, he didn’t know what he would do. He was afraid the training Chris had put him through would make him lose control. He *wanted* to touch Colin, but he fought that desire hard. And he was winning the fight -- for now. But if he actually saw the other man, if he was actually within reach... “Ryan...” Drew reached for him again, and then paused, frowning. It was hard to listen and be sympathetic when he couldn’t touch his friend. Ryan saw the outstretched hand, and he froze, taking a deep breath. Maybe...maybe it would be okay. Maybe touching wasn’t so bad. No! Stop it! Don’t let Chris win! Ryan shrank away, and Drew dropped his hand with a sigh. “I’m not going to hurt you, Ryan. It’s okay.” Ryan only shook his head, but the gesture looked reluctant. He kept his eyes on Drew, watching the shorter man carefully. Drew sat back, slumping dejectedly against the couch. It mad him so sad to see Ryan going through this and not being able to reach out for help. Ryan was cutting himself off from everyone who cared about him. Drew knew what he had gone through, or at least parts of it, from Colin, and he wanted to help, dammit! But Ryan could be damn stubborn when he wanted to be. Drew sighed and stared at the floor, trying to think of something that might get through to the big guy. Now. When he’s not looking. If you’re the one touching him, you’re in control. Just...to see. Find out if it still gives you that crawly feeling. Go on, quick. Before he could think about it too much, Ryan stretched out an arm and slipped his palm down Drew’s back. He could feel the warmth, the resiliency of living skin beneath the soft cotton shirt...it sent a tingling sensation up his arm. The want -- the *need* -- to feel human contact suddenly rose to a painful spike. It was like a starving man getting a delicious whiff of food. It only made the hunger worse. Drew turned, giving him a puzzled look. Ryan was staring at his hand, waiting for the crawling feeling to start. It didn’t. “Ryan?” “I...it’s different. It’s not like when HE did it.” Drew smiled in relief. Ryan was finally making some progress. “That’s good, Ryan! You see? It’s not so bad after all. Can I?” He reached out, letting his hand hover over Ryan’s arm, without touching. “No!” Ryan said sharply, pulling back. “Just...not yet. I...it’s okay when I do it. Someone else doing it...” “Okay man, easy. I understand,” Drew said soothingly. “But...reaching out can be good. And that took a lot of guts, touching me. I knew you could do it... Do you think you could do that with Colin? Not to touch him, you don’t have to go any faster than you want to, but could you call him?” Talk to Colin? Hear his voice, that old, familiar voice? Could he do that? Ryan thought that maybe he could. It wasn’t like they would be in the same room. He could always hang up if things got...dangerous. “I...yeah. I could do that.” “Really? That’s great. It would really mean a lot to him, Ryan. He’s...he’s just been devastated over this. He feels really terrible about it, y’know. And I think it would be really good for you too. Maybe you don’t know this, but you *need* him.” Ryan shrugged noncommittally. Did Colin feel terrible about kissing him? Or about doing it at the wrong time and scaring him? And why did that matter anyway? Maybe he could find out. “Go on then,” Drew said encouragingly, pointing at the phone. Ryan gave him a look, and he lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, then do it later. I just thought if you did it now, you’d have...you know, moral support.” He indicated himself by pointing a thumb at his chest. Ryan smiled faintly, shaking his head at Drew’s irrepressible nature. And maybe he would call now. Not because Drew told him to, but because he wanted to. He picked up the phone. * * * Like Ryan, Colin was quickly developing an appreciation for life’s simple pleasures. Being able to eat and drink what he wanted, when he wanted. Being clean and dressed, warm and comfortable. He kept finding new things, sweet little surprises. Like music. He had just been sitting in the house, relaxing, drinking a soda, (a soda! Marvelously sweet, cold, and no one making him beg for it. With ice, no less.) when it occurred to him that the house was too quiet. That was when he realized he didn’t have to just tolerate the silence like he had in that dark hole. He could turn on the TV, or play music, or sing a fucking hoedown if he felt like it. The knowledge made him grin widely, and he had spent the rest of the day listening to his favorite songs cranked up loud enough to rattle the windows. It was when he came across his meager collection of blues music that he thought of Ryan. Of course, that wasn’t unusual. Just about anything triggered a thought of Ryan lately. In this case, he remembered their banter during one game of Greatest Hits, where Ryan kept naming musical styles with the word ‘blue’ in them. He and Colin had pretended to fight in the way they often did for that game. It was fun then, but the real thing was making Colin nuts. Every time he thought about Ryan, which was about a million times a day, he wanted to bang his head against the wall. How could have he been so damn stupid? How could he have wrecked the best friendship he’d ever had with such an idiotic mistake? Colin could feel the pall of that place receding from his mind, but it didn’t leave completely. Like the incessant guilt over what he had done to Ryan, it hung like a shadow in the background. He got the feeling that it always would. But it was something he would have to live with. Most of the time, Colin would try to distract himself. He would try to think of the good things and forget about how badly he had fucked things up with Ryan. It never worked, but he tried anyway. He certainly had a lot to be grateful for. He was going to live. He didn’t have to wonder if one of those crazy bastards was going to slit his throat while he slept, chained upright against the wall. He was out of that damn hole. There were days of listening to music and reading and working with his friends to look forward to. And a safe, warm bed to come back to at the end of every single one of those days. As the strange tilting feel left his mind, Colin’s thinking had gotten clearer. And since he had spent the last week doing nothing but eating, sleeping, and listening to music, he’d had plenty of time to think. He had thought mostly of Ryan. Worried about how he was doing. Wondered if Ryan was enjoying the simple little things as much as he was. And especially worried about what he had done. Just how much damage had he caused with that stupid kiss? How badly had he thrown off Ryan’s recovery? It bit at the back of his mind constantly. Sometimes he would look at himself in the mirror and feel like punching the reflection. He would stand there, shaking his head and muttering, “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” under his breath. Oddly enough, Colin spent a lot of time on the roof of his house. He’d always liked heights, and the open sky was a welcome sight after all that time underground. He would lay up there, feeling the sun-warmed boards under his back, and think about Ryan. He often wondered if Ryan was doing the same thing on the roof of his house only a few blocks away. Probably not -- Ryan didn’t like heights. He would probably be out in his backyard. Sometimes Colin thought that if he just looked hard enough, he would be able to see his friend stretched out in the grass in the evenings, counting the stars. He couldn’t, of course -- they lived fairly close together, but not that close. He would lay up there and think about what he had done. Sometimes he would drum his heels against the roof in frustration, and he had already badly bruised his hand by punching the chimney. Note to self: bricks don’t care if you punch them. It just kept coming back to him, over and over. He had been so damn *dense!* The signs were so obvious now that he thought about them. And his own feelings were equally obvious. Every time he thought about Ryan, they just got clearer. He had come to two conclusions. One: He loved Ryan. That was old news, but it had a new aspect. He’d loved Ryan as a friend for years. As a brother. But now... now there was more. It had been hard to come to terms with it, of course. Loving another man. Colin didn’t think he could have handled it if it was anyone but Ryan. With anyone else, it would feel wrong. With Ryan... There was a word for it in the Eastern culture. They called it ka, which was a simple way of saying destiny, or fate. A sense of unalterable rightness. With Ryan, it was ka. Two: He had to get Ryan back. Somehow, he had to make it up to him. He couldn’t just let their friendship go, not when he wanted it to be so much more. There had to be something he could do. He just wished he knew what it was. * * * When he caught himself staring at the phone for the fifth time in as many minutes, Colin jerked his gaze away with an exasperated sigh. He knew he was being ridiculous. He was actually sitting by the phone. He felt like a teenage girl in a bad sitcom. Why would Ryan want to call him, after what he’d done? He didn’t deserve it. Colin knew damn well that he didn’t deserve anything from Ryan. After screwing up so badly, causing God only knows what kind of damage to his friend’s mind, he should just stay away. If he saw Ryan, he would probably just fuck up again. How many times had he picked up that phone and dialed Ryan’s number, only to chicken out at the last minute? How many more times had he actually gone through with the call, only to listen to the familiar answering machine message? Too many to count. He’d left several phone messages, some of them bordering on begging. His tone varied from apologetic to concerned to guilty, and on one memorable middle-of-the-night occasion, desperate. He missed Ryan the way he might miss a severed limb. He wanted to hold his friend, see him, touch his skin, but that wasn’t all. He wanted to laugh with Ryan again. He wanted to sit around and drink his watered down American beer and watch TV. He wanted the teasing banter, the goofy looks, and the simple closeness they had once shared. He wanted to know that his stupid mistake hadn’t cause permanent damage. He wanted to know that Ryan was going to be okay again. Was going to be *his* Ryan again. During the day, Colin missed the friendship. At night, he missed the comfort. Ryan was the one who was always there for him. Colin remembered very well their shared night in the hospital, curled together. He remembered how they had clung to each other for warmth and security in the basement that first night, before that son of a bitch separated them. And he *missed* it, dammit! Especially after the nightmares. Each one left him gasping and shaking, reaching out for someone who wasn’t there. Colin always felt ashamed of his weakness when he looked back on it from the easy confidence of daylight, but that didn’t stop him from clutching a pillow to his chest, closing his eyes, and trying to pretend it was Ryan. It made him feel childish, but it also made him feel better, so he did it anyway. And then there were the other dreams...the ones that were far from nightmares. They were downright pleasant...and they all featured Ryan rather prominently. In them, Ryan was always in the bed with him, and they were curled together so tightly they felt like one person. He could feel Ryan’s strong arms around his chest, the warm, solid form of his best friend against his back. Ryan would lightly kiss his neck, but the dreams didn’t go beyond that. Sometimes he would turn around and stroke a hand through Ryan’s soft hair, and let their foreheads touch. Ryan would whisper over and over again that it was okay, he was okay, that he loved Colin and would never leave. He would say that all was forgiven. They would say that they loved each other with the perfect unselfconscious honesty of a dream. Oh, he’d tried to think about other things. He thought about grocery shopping and alphabetizing his CD collection and trying new recipes that he found on the internet. He thought about what to wear that day (clothes! Clean, dry clothes!) and whether he should go for a walk or take a nap. And underneath it all, he never stopped thinking about Ryan. Never stopped wanting to bang his head against the wall for what he had done. He would try to think, try to concentrate on something, and find himself standing in the middle of the room, staring at nothing and shaking his head, seeing it all in his mind again. The way Ryan had slunk around him, cringing and submissive, and the look in his eyes when he broke away from that kiss. That stupid, idiotic, damn how could I have fucking done that, kiss. Drew had called several times, worried about him. He had also visited, which Colin was very grateful for. Drew was confused and frustrated with the apparent break of Colin and Ryan’s friendship. He’d pestered relentlessly, in a stubbornly sympathetic kind of way, but Colin hadn’t been able to bring himself to admit what he had done. Every time he thought of it, he felt like either cringing or smacking himself in the face. It was so damn *obvious* when he thought about it! How could he not have figured it out? The way Ryan was acting, his reaction after the first kiss, everything...it just kept circling. Everything brought it back, because everything reminded him of Ryan. Music that Ryan loved. A commercial on TV that Ryan always made fun of. The baseball cap that Ryan had bought him that time they went to the beach, saying with a teasing grin that it would keep the top of his head from getting sunburned. Colin had rolled his eyes and lightly smacked Ryan’s middle, acting irritated. What he wouldn’t give to have Ryan tease him now. He thought he would happily sit through a thousand bald jokes just to see Ryan’s smile. Last he had heard from Drew, he was going to try and see Ryan. He’d talked to the big guy on the phone a few times (something Colin envied terribly) but hadn’t actually seen him. Then, a few hours earlier, Drew had called him up sounding worried. He couldn’t get a hold of Ryan, wasn’t answering his phone. Was he over at Colin’s place? Colin told him no, suppressing the urge to laugh bitterly. Over at his place? Not likely. But he’d kept the bitterness out of his answer, and Drew accepted it. Said he was going to try Ryan at his house. Colin wished him luck. Despite his best efforts to think about something else, Colin couldn’t help worrying about what was going on with Ryan. He hadn’t heard from Drew since he had said he was going over to Ryan’s place, and he was beginning to wonder if he’d gotten a hold of Ryan or not. What if...what if something had happened? What if Ryan had...done something? Some whispering voice in the back of Colin’s mind wanted to put a name to that speculation, to say just exactly what he thought Ryan might have done, but he pushed it down fiercely. Ryan wouldn’t do that. Ryan was *fine* dammit. Shut up. But still...maybe it would be a good idea to call Drew. Just to say hi, how are you, want to grab some lunch later? And oh, by the way, did you ever talk to Ryan? Everything okay with him? Colin’s eyes were fixed on the phone again and his hand was drifting toward it of its own accord when it suddenly rang, making him jump. He was unable to suppress the immediate hope that it was Ryan -- the same way he had every time the phone rang lately. Steeling himself for the inevitable disappointment, Colin lifted the phone to his ear and said, “Hello?” There was a long pause, and Colin almost tried again, before the soft breathing on the other end suddenly sounded familiar. “Ryan?” he asked, already sure he was right. “Um...yeah. I...maybe this was a bad idea.” Ryan’s voice was confused and hesitant, and music to Colin’s ears. He’d missed Ryan’s deep baritone more than seemed possible, and it felt great to hear it again. “No! I mean...please, don’t hang up,” Colin said quickly, aware he was very close to begging, but not caring. “Look, Col...” Ryan trailed off, and Colin closed his eyes briefly, delighted to hear the easy shortening of his name in Ryan’s voice again. The nickname made his shoulders sag in relief as some of the tension melted from his body. Ryan didn’t sound angry, or scared...he sounded like *Ryan* again. It was only now, hearing his friend again, that Colin fully realized how much he had missed Ryan. “Ryan, please, hear me out. I am so, SO sorry. I can’t say it enough. I’m a total bastard, and I don’t blame you for hitting me. Hell, I’m glad you did. I was just...I don’t know. I was stupid. I--“ “Don’t.” The single word made his stomach lurch. Colin felt his mouth get oddly dry, and he swallowed. He was going to lose Ryan. His best friend in the world, the man he loved... And it was his fault. He’d fucked up so badly that Ryan was never going to forgive him...and why should he? Colin knew he didn’t deserve it. He covered his face with one hand, the other still limply holding the phone against his ear. He almost wanted to hang up, just so he wouldn’t have to hear Ryan tell him it was over. Ryan’s next words caught him completely by surprise. “Can I come over?” The question was spoken very softly, and Colin leaned forward in his seat, as if the motion would help him hear better. “What?” “You’re right, it’s a bad idea, I don’t know what I was thinking--“ “No! I mean, yes! I mean -- come over! Yes! Please!” Colin stopped, suddenly aware he was babbling, and he heard a soft chuckle from Ryan. The sound made him grin widely, and he flopped back on the couch in relief. “Okay...if you’re sure,” Ryan said, and Colin smiled sadly when he heard the real uncertainty in his friend’s voice. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” Colin replied, thinking it was the understatement of the year. He was thrilled that he was going to see Ryan, but...what if he messed it up again? And why did Ryan want to see him, anyway? What if Ryan still thought he was under some obligation to do what Colin wanted? “All right, I’m on my way...see you in a few minutes.” “Great! Bye, Ryan” “Bye.” And just like that, Colin’s whole outlook improved dramatically. He quickly glanced at his watch, and then rolled his eyes at himself, since Ryan had hung up only seconds before. Jumping up from the couch, Colin busied himself with tidying up a bit, still grinning crazily. Ryan was coming over. In just a few minutes, Ryan was actually going to be in his house-- Oh, shit. For a moment, Colin actually considered leaving. Just running out the door and staying gone until he could be sure that Ryan wasn’t there anymore. There was so much at stake here...he was getting a second chance. Colin was sure there wouldn’t be a third if he messed this one up. And let’s face it, he didn’t exactly have a great track record with Ryan right now. Ryan had been hurt so badly; it would be so easy to make a mistake and cause permanent damage. Hell, he’d already done it once. Twice, if you count both kisses. Colin felt like smacking the heel of his hand against his forehead. Ryan was still unsure and vulnerable, if his voice over the phone had been any indication. What the hell was he thinking, wanting to run out? That would just make things worse. He had to face this, face Ryan, and hope like hell that he wouldn’t mess things up again. The risk was terrible, but the possible rewards if he mended things with Ryan... they made it all worthwhile. * * * * * Drew listened to Ryan’s side of the conversation with an approving smile. Drew was sure that if they just sat down and talked together, they could work it out. And that would be best for both of them. Drew knew he was being pushy with Ryan, pestering him to talk to Colin, but he did it out of worry for both of them. Ryan was withdrawing and Colin was staggering under the weight of his guilt. Drew just hoped they could get past Colin’s kiss and start helping each other in the healing process. Drew had to shake his head a little -- what the hell had Colin been thinking? No wonder Ryan had hit him. He thought it was a good sign that Ryan seemed willing to see Colin. He was surprised when he heard Ryan ask to go over there, but it was a pleased surprise. “Bye,” Ryan said, and hit the end call button on his cordless. He stared at the phone in his hand for a moment, looking disbelieving. Drew grinned at him, and nearly patted him on the back before catching himself. “That’s great, Ry. It took a lot of guts to ask that... So, are you going to go?” Ryan licked his lips nervously. “I...yeah. I guess I am. I didn’t...” I didn’t know I was going to ask to come over. That’s what he wanted to say. As soon as he had heard Colin’s voice, the words had just come out. It was kind of like being on stage, when a game got going fast. Ryan had to open his mouth and trust his comic instincts and experience to make something funny come out. Often he didn’t even feel like he was speaking -- it was more like someone was speaking through him. That was how his conversation with Colin had felt. “It’ll be okay, Ryan. You’ll see. It’ll do you *both* a world of good.” Drew was still beaming, and Ryan felt his lips twitch into a slight smile. It felt unfamiliar on his face, but...good. One thing about Drew; when he was happy, it tended to spread to everyone around him. Ryan nodded and they walked to the door together. Drew immediately headed for his car, but Ryan stood on the front porch for a long moment, looking around. He hadn’t ventured outside much since his return home. There had been some time spent in the backyard, lying on his back in the grass and staring up at the sky, but the backyard was surrounded by a high fence. The open street in front of his house made him feel vulnerable. Realizing that Ryan wasn’t with him, Drew paused and turned around. He saw his friend standing by his front door, looking uncertain, and he sighed. Apparently Ryan still had a long way to go before he would really be himself again. Catching Ryan’s eye, Drew carefully looked up and down the quiet street, and then lifted his hands. “It’s okay, Ryan. C’mon. I’m right here.” Feeling sheepish, Ryan quickly went to his car. Drew grinned at him and got into his own car, pulling away from the curb. Ryan felt somehow vindicated that Drew wasn’t going to usher him over to Colin’s house. It made him feel more like an adult, and he smiled. It came a little easier to his lips this time, and he thought wryly that Drew hadn’t lost his touch as a comic. The smile faded as he moved slowly down the road, and he bit his lip in apprehension. //Shit, what am I doing? What the hell am I doing? I can't go there. Colin makes my self-control vanish. Went over that before, just proved it again. I sure as hell didn’t mean to ask if I could come over. My mouth just went and ran away with itself. If... when... I go see him, who the fuck knows what’s going to happen? Still afraid, are we? Trained you well, didn’t he? Shut the fu-- No. I’m not saying it. I'm not fucking saying that! I’m not like him, dammit! I don't hurt people for the fun of it. I don't force them to do anything against their will! And Colin isn't like that either. I have no reason to be scared of him and that's it. He would never hurt me. He just...made a mistake. He’s human. So fucking what? Oh? So forgiving... What if he tries to do it again? He won’t! I won't let him! He just...won't. And even if he does... Hell, I don’t know. He won’t. So it doesn’t matter. I’m just going to talk to him. He’s my friend! He's my best friend, I miss him and I'm going to see him. That's it. Do you want to touch him? I...yes. But if I want to, I will. I'll be the one to do it. I'll be able to stop when I want to, touch no more than I want to. I’ll be in control. He can't touch me. He doesn’t get to touch me. Not if I say he can’t. I’m not letting anyone do anything to me that I don’t want. Never again. What if you say he can? What the fuck? What's so wrong with that? Why would I say that? And why the fuck am I even thinking about this? It doesn’t fucking matter. I’m not going over there for some big sappy hug or anything. I’m just going to talk some things over with my friend, that’s all. Maybe have a few beers and watch TV. Nothing to it. Who do you think you’re fooling? Him, for one. And it's not a matter of fooling anyone. I'm just going to talk. Just talking, nothing more...nothing more... You fucking worthless whore, you want it! I...no. I don't. I'm not! I'm not, I'm not. Now who do you think you're fooling? I'm my own person and if I want to touch my best friend I damn well will. Nothing will stop me. I'm not inviting anything by touching him. I'm not... a whore. But you couldn't stop it, you couldn't fight him. You LET him do whatever he wanted. And you did the same thing with Colin. It's your training, that's why you're going. No. It's not. Chris is a fucking bastard. There was nothing I could have done. There was not a fucking thing I could do. And the fuck with you! You don't belong here in my head. I'm going to see my best friend because I want to. Not because he wants it. Not because I think I should, but because I WANT to. And if I want to touch him, well, people touch each other. If I want him to touch me, so be it. People have sex together, people can do that without getting hurt. Touching is NOT a crime, it's not an invitation of hurt and that voice in my head telling me that it is will just have to fucking go.// Pulling into Colin’s driveway, Ryan sat in the car for a few seconds, trying to organize his thoughts and failing completely. He seriously considered turning around and going home. He might be alone there, but at least it was safe. But if he did that, he’d have to deal with telling Drew he had chickened out. It was pride that got Ryan out of the car and up to the front door. It opened before he had a chance to knock, and there was Colin, staring at him with a big, silly grin. Ryan smiled in return, the expression coming unbidden to his lips. Ryan was pleased to note that Colin looked a lot better than the last time he had seen him. He wasn’t so painfully skinny anymore, and the dark shadows under his eyes had faded. He was clean and dressed in his usual khakis and polo shirt. The clothes hung on him a bit awkwardly -- he was still much thinner than he had been before the whole experience, but he looked healthy. For some reason, just looking at him made Ryan feel good. It hadn’t occurred to him until now, but something had been missing. And that something was Colin. It was like having a vitamin deficiency. He could actually feel himself absorbing the sight of his best friend. Ryan searched his mind carefully, looking for any sign of the old fear. If it was there, it was hiding well. Colin stepped back, gesturing for the taller man to enter. “Hey.” “Hey,” Colin replied nervously, staring at Ryan. He was surprised by how much Ryan’s appearance had improved in a week. He was still too thin, and the sweat pants and tank top combo was a bit odd, but he looked strong and stable. A few of the nastier bruises were still visible, but most of them had faded. Some of the pallor had left his skin. Colin wondered briefly if he had been right about Ryan lying out in his backyard. He wanted nothing more than to run up to his friend and pull him into a tight hug, but he was determined to control himself better this time. Ryan was back, but that didn’t mean that all was forgiven. Colin wasn’t going to endanger whatever shaky confidence Ryan had managed to gather. “So...how have you been?” Colin asked, trying to break the awkward silence. “Fine. Just fine. Taking care of myself.” Ryan’s answer was short and brittle, and he winced slightly. He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, it just came out that way. Colin nodded, taking the words as a rebuke. “Well. That’s good. I’m so glad you’re okay.” The inane small talk was making Colin crazy, and he fiddled nervously with his shirt. “Yeah,” Ryan replied uncertainly, wishing he knew what to say. He was toying with the idea of touching Colin the way he had touched Drew, but he couldn’t quite do it. Not when the other man was looking at him. He wasn’t sure why that should make a difference, but it did. “I see you got rid of the beard,” Ryan said. Colin brought a hand up reflexively, feeling his chin. “Uh, yeah...it wasn’t really my style, y’know?” “Right. Thought you looked pretty funny with it, actually.” Colin shrugged. “Yeah, well, it was itchy. And, uh, I thought the fans would be a little thrown by it. Plus, it makes me look silly, to have more hair on my face than I have on my head. And, uh...” Colin paused, realizing he was babbling nervously. “Um...you want to sit down?” “Okay,” Ryan said easily, and followed the other man into the living room. While Colin’s back was turned, he reached out and nearly brushed a hand along the shorter man’s shoulder, but pulled back. Maybe later. He wasn’t quite ready. It was amazing how much different Colin seemed now. The last time they had been in his house together, Colin was frightening and unpredictable. But...maybe Colin hadn’t changed. Maybe it was Ryan himself who had changed. He could see the uncertainty when Colin looked at him, and the guilt. If anything, Colin seemed almost afraid of *him.* Afraid of messing up again. It...it had been a mistake. Not an attack, or an attempt to hurt Ryan. A mistake. Ryan blinked a few times, letting that sink in. He had known, intellectually, that Colin would never hurt him. But knowing and believing are often two different things. He still felt a little edgy around Colin, a little uneasy, but not because he thought his old friend would hurt him. The thing that scared Ryan was how much he *wanted* to touch Colin. It didn’t seem right. He shouldn’t want that skin to skin contact so much. He knew it would be so reassuring to touch Colin, to feel the warmth, the life, and to know that Colin wouldn’t recoil from his touch. It would mean that he wasn’t dirty, or damaged. Even the thought of feeling Colin against his hands made him smile slightly. It seemed... overly dependent. Needy and clingy. But then...why shouldn’t he be close to his friend? Why shouldn’t he want a little reassurance after what he’d been through? Didn’t he deserve it? Yes... That was the key. He *deserved* to touch Colin, if he wanted to. He deserved to feel good. He deserved to be happy. It was his *right.* Chris had tried to take that away from him, but Chris was in jail. And Ryan knew he could do what he wanted. Chris could just go to hell. They sat down on the couch together, at opposite ends, and Colin couldn’t help compare this to the last time they had shared this couch. Then, Ryan had been all over him, cradled in his arms, curled against his chest. But he’d been doing it out of fear, because he thought it was what Colin wanted. And if he hadn’t been such a moron, he would have figured that out in time and... Colin shook his head. It was too late to undo that mistake now. All he could do was try and move forward. There had to be something he could do, some way to make it up to Ryan. Some way to get his friend back. “Ryan...” Colin began. “I...I don’t know how to say this. I am so, SO sorry. I was a complete idiot. I fucked up, and I don’t blame you for hitting me. I totally deserved it. I’m glad you did it, actually. Glad you stopped me before...” Ryan was looking at him levelly, and Colin gulped. He had been hoping for some kind of reassuring statement here. Something like ‘No, it’s okay, everyone makes mistakes.’ Or even ‘Yes, you did deserve it, but that’s behind us now.’ Ryan didn’t say a word. Taking a deep breath, Colin kept going. He wasn’t speaking so much as tumbling down a verbal hill. “I just...I was so fucking stupid, Ry. I didn’t understand...anything. And I didn’t...I didn’t mean anything by what I did. I wasn’t trying to... I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I would never hurt you, Ryan. You’ve got to believe me, I would rather cut off my right arm than hurt you, I swear... I would never...” “Colin.” Ryan was still giving him that level look, but there was something else in his eyes. Colin couldn’t identify it. Ryan knew what it was, though. It was being ready. It was confidence, and assurance, and determination to take what he wanted. What they both needed. “Yeah?” “Could you...could you not look at me for a second?” Colin frowned. “What?” “Just...it’s hard to explain. Look somewhere else for a few seconds, that’s all.” Colin wasn’t about to deny Ryan anything. Especially not when he asked in that open, honest tone of voice. He quickly turned, staring out the window. Colin was very aware of Ryan behind him on the couch. He thought he could feel the fine hairs on his skin stand up as he heard the soft rustle of Ryan’s movement. Ryan stared at Colin’s back for a second or two. It would be very easy to reach out and touch him. Too easy. It wasn’t a struggle to do it, it was a struggle *not* to do it. Ryan could imagine all too well how good it would feel. His hand wanted to reach out of its own accord. His arms wanted to wrap around Colin’s chest. He wanted to feel Colin’s heartbeat under his palm. He wanted to lay his cheek between Colin’s shoulder blades and listen to him breathe. It was almost magnetic, the way he was drawn to the other man. Ryan leaned closer, shifting on the couch. He saw Colin twitch slightly as he heard the movement, and he paused. Colin couldn’t expect this. He wasn’t sure why, but it had something to do with being in control. Colin couldn’t know it was coming. Ryan had to be the one who knew what was going on, who called the shots. If Colin knew, then he would feel like he was obeying. He needed to keep the other man guessing. What would do that? What would be the last thing that Colin expected? A vague idea tickled at the back of his mind, but Ryan wasn’t ready to consider it yet. He reached out and stroked a hand down Colin’s back in a quick movement. Colin jumped and started to turn, but Ryan stopped him with a barked command, tinged with panic. “Don’t move.” Colin did as he was told. He felt Ryan’s hand land on his back again, and this time it stayed there, a warm presence on his left shoulder. Colin shut his eyes for a moment. The contact wasn’t intimate in any way, and yet it was. It was only a hand on his shoulder (his *clothed* shoulder) but it made his skin tingle. He could feel the warmth spreading rapidly through his body, and his breathing changed subtly. Ryan grinned. It felt *good* to touch Colin. It didn’t make his skin crawl, or make him scared. And even better, when he told Colin not to move, the shorter man stayed still. He was calling the shots, deciding what happened. He wasn’t anyone’s ‘pet.’ And that felt fucking *great.* Ryan felt his confidence level go up a few notches, and he moved a little closer, scooting along the couch. He wasn’t following a plan, but simply doing what felt good. And right now, he had to keep moving. Keep up the momentum and keep Colin off guard. Keep the upper hand. That was very important, although Ryan couldn’t have said why. Colin’s eyes flipped open when he felt Ryan’s other hand grip his upper arm. He was still so very *aware* of Ryan behind him, and he could feel the other man getting closer. He could almost feel Ryan’s chest against his back, although the only places he was actually being touched were where Ryan’s hands were on him. Ryan edged a little closer, letting his hip touch Colin’s leg. He felt Colin shiver slightly in his hands, and he smiled. The heady feeling of freedom was still with him, and Ryan tightened his grip slightly. He could do this. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted. He could touch Colin and enjoy it and Chris didn’t have a damn thing to say about it. Colin could feel Ryan’s breath on the back of his neck. He was acutely aware of the way his thigh was touching Ryan’s hip. The points of warmth where they touched seemed to multiply like rocks thrown into a pond, sending ripples of sensation along his skin and colliding with other ripples coming from every direction. It felt fantastic, but Colin was still tense. He wasn’t sure what Ryan was doing, and he was scared to death of screwing it up. Thankfully, Ryan didn’t seem to be acting submissive anymore. Far from it, Colin thought with a shiver. Ryan leaned in and let his chest touch Colin’s back. He could feel the way Colin’s breathing quickened, and he smiled. He was through being scared of everything. It felt so damn *good* to decide things for himself. To not be scared, or ordered around. Every time he got a little closer to Colin because *he* wanted to, not because someone told him to or because he thought Colin would like it, he felt a little stronger. It felt like spitting in Chris’s face. He loved it. Colin wanted very badly to lean into Ryan and increase the contact, but he held still. He was bound and determined to do this right, and not make another stupid mistake. Besides, he was enjoying the hell out of this. He had no idea what was going on, but it felt good, and Ryan was clearly in charge. It was so good to see Ryan like this. Not being submissive or silent, but asserting himself. Although, the barked command had been a bit odd. Colin had heard the fear, the near panic when he had nearly turned to look at Ryan, and he knew he didn’t dare screw this up. Ryan was reaching out, but he was on thin ice. If he felt like he had to run the show, call the shots, Colin could let him. He knew Ryan wouldn’t hurt him. He was more afraid of making another mistake than of anything Ryan would do. Ryan relished the feeling of Colin against his chest, warm and solid and alive, and he brought his arms around, letting them go where they wanted. One ended up wrapped around Colin’s abdomen while the other went across his chest and over his shoulder. Colin continued to hold perfectly still, which pleased Ryan. He had told Colin not to move, and that’s exactly what the shorter man was doing. But it wasn’t enough. He’d taken things as far as he could with Colin staying still. He had to keep moving, keep up the momentum, or he might lose his confidence. And he couldn’t let that happen. Colin had already followed his lead once -- time to see if he would do it again. “Look at me.” Ryan used his arms to emphasize the words, turning Colin’s body so that they were facing each other. Colin went willingly, lifting his chin slightly to look Ryan in the eyes. Ryan stared down at him, and Colin let him look. He was happy to see the smile playing around the corners of Ryan’s mouth. They held the gaze for a long moment, and Ryan must have liked what he saw in Colin’s eyes, because he grinned. Good. There was no challenge in his friend’s gaze, but no fear either. Ryan didn't want Colin to be afraid of him. He knew that if the positions were reversed, he'd be scared out of his wits. He didn't want to hurt Colin, but at the same time, he was scared that Chris had twisted him, made him want to control people like he did, hurt them. The simple trust in Colin's eyes made the fear seem ridiculous. Colin was doing as he asked because he trusted Ryan, and because he wanted to make his friend happy. Ryan noticed that Colin’s arms were lying slack at his sides, and as if the sight had triggered some basic need, he suddenly wanted those arms around him. Some part of him wanted to be afraid of being touched, but he slammed it down. He was in charge here, dammit! And Chris could just shut the fuck up. “Put your arms around me.” Colin lifted his arms immediately, but paused before he actually put them around his friend. “Ryan...are you sure? You’re not doing this because you think you have to, right?” “I’m sure.” Ryan’s voice was the tiniest bit impatient, and that convinced Colin more than the words themselves. It was the same tone Ryan used when Colin reminded him to put on his seat belt, or suggested that maybe he’d had enough cigarettes for one day. That ‘oh, Colin’s being a mother hen again’ tone. Colin did as Ryan asked, placing his arms gently around Ryan’s waist. He let them sit there, loose and limp, despite how much he wanted to tighten them and pull Ryan close. It was making him crazy, being near Ryan like this and not being able to act on his feelings. He could feel himself trembling. Colin wanted to slip one hand up and card through Ryan’s hair, wanted to rub his back and bury his face in Ryan’s shoulder, but he didn’t. It took all the self-control he had, but he kept still. Ryan felt his stomach flutter nervously when Colin’s arms went around him. If Colin had followed his desires and tightened his arms, Ryan might very well have flinched away, but the passive arms lying loosely around his waist kept him calm. Ryan could feel Colin shaking slightly, and he was reassured. Colin wasn’t sure of himself. Ryan still had the momentum, the upper hand. He wasn’t the only one who felt a little nervous. Colin wasn't doing anything Ryan hadn't asked for; those arms around his waist felt good, and he wanted them there. They were there because he had asked for them. And that made all the difference Ryan tightened his arms, pulling Colin in against his chest. Colin went easily, letting his eyes slip shut as his face pressed against Ryan’s shoulder. God, it felt good. He shivered a little more, struggling to keep his arms loose and relaxed. He wanted so damn much to squeeze Ryan, cling to him, but he couldn’t. Not until he was invited to do so. Colin just hoped like hell that Ryan would invite it soon, because he wasn’t sure how much longer his self-control would hold out. Closing his eyes, Ryan let his head drop until he was nuzzled into the hollow of Colin’s shoulder. He took a deep breath, smelling that Herbal Essences shampoo that he always teased Colin for buying, telling him it was a girl shampoo. Colin had always shrugged the teasing off with his usual savoir faire, saying that he knew it was a girl shampoo...all the girls liked it on him. The thought made Ryan grin, and it occurred to him that he could tease Colin again if he wanted. He was actually in Colin’s arms, and it wasn’t scaring him. He was doing what he wanted to do. For the first time since the whole ordeal in the basement had begun, Ryan was starting to feel like himself again. Colin tightened his arms ever so slightly before catching himself and relaxing them again. He could feel Ryan’s breathing on his neck, could feel those long arms tight around him, and it was delicious. It was, in fact, a kind of sweet torture. It was like his dreams, being with Ryan, but he was so scared of messing this up. He couldn’t lose Ryan again. “Tighter,” Ryan said, the words muffled against Colin’s shoulder. Colin didn’t hesitate this time, but quickly brought his arms up with a sigh of relief. He burrowed against Ryan’s neck, wrapping his arms tightly around the taller man’s back. He couldn’t resist bringing one hand up to touch Ryan’s hair, and he froze for a moment, wondering if he had gone too far. But if it bothered Ryan, he didn’t show it. He made a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a murmur and rocked slightly, rubbing his cheek against Colin’s shoulder. Ryan wasn’t questioning his instincts at this point. When he felt ready to have Colin’s arms do something other than lie there limply, he had said so without thought. He had felt the hand in his hair, but he wasn’t worried that the movement hadn’t been requested. It felt good, and that’s what he had wanted. Everything he had told Colin to do had been with the same goal in mind. Make me feel good. Make me feel strong, and safe, and in control. Make me not afraid anymore. And Colin was doing exactly what he wanted. They stayed like that for a long time. Ryan was reminded of how he had felt constantly thirsty for about the first two days out of the hospital. Even though he had been re-hydrated intravenously, he still drank copious amounts of water. It was the body stocking up on something it had been missing. The human body works that way, hoarding what it is deprived of. If you suddenly cut back drastically on your eating, the body slows its works, clutching at every calorie in an effort to fend off starvation. Then, when you start eating normally again, the body will demand extra food to rebuild its stores. It was the same with this contact, this affection. Colin and Ryan had been starved for it, their stores depleted. Now they were stocking up. Colin thought fleetingly that this proved his theory -- touching Ryan really was a physical need, like air or water. Eventually, Ryan pulled back slightly and let his forehead touch Colin’s. The older man’s eyes drifted open, and they stared at each other for a while. The feeling in their shared gaze would have been embarrassing had it not been so honest. Ryan felt like his senses were full of Colin. He could feel the firm, resilient skin beneath the clothes, smell that distinctive mix of Herbal Essences and Colin’s own unique pheromones, hear the other man’s steady breathing and of course, see him only inches away. Ryan didn’t think. He simply acted. Steering Colin’s head with a hand cupped behind his neck, Ryan kissed the other man hard, almost fiercely. He tasted wonderful, sweet and salty and uniquely Colin. For a moment, Colin was warm and responsive against his mouth, but then he pulled away, gently but firmly. “Ryan, no...I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for. You don’t have to do this.” “You’re not pushing me, Col. I just...I felt like doing it,” Ryan replied uncertainly, pulling away a little bit. Of course Colin wouldn’t want to kiss him. After everything he had done... No. He hadn’t done anything wrong, dammit! But...he couldn’t force Colin, either. Then he would be no better than Chris. “I thought...don’t you...don’t you like it?” “Yes...God, yes, Ryan, you have no idea how much... but you’re not ready yet. You can't be, not just like that. No matter how much I want this, I... I can't do it. We should take things slowly.” “Colin... I don’t want to sit at home alone anymore. I don’t want to think about being held all the time and want it so much that I can’t think about anything else. I’m so fucking tired of being scared all the time, and waking up alone, and...and just everything.” Ryan paused when he heard the words come out of his mouth. He blinked a few times, letting the idea sink in. He was tired of being afraid to touch. Tired of feeling dirty and used and worthless. He didn’t want to feel that way anymore. “Col...I know I’m probably not making a lot of sense here, but I... I miss you. I miss my friend. I don't know if... I don't know what will happen, but I don't want to be alone anymore. I can't do this alone. I want someone with me. And... I want it to be you.” “Really?” Colin asked, his voice catching in his throat. “I...yes. I want it to be you,” Ryan said slowly, tasting the words. Trying them on for size. They fit perfectly. Colin tried to say something, but Ryan simply smiled and leaned in, wrapping the shorter man in his arms and pressing his face into the hollow of Colin’s shoulder. They rocked back and forth, not speaking, just soaking up the contact. Colin could feel Ryan growing limp and relaxed in his arms, and he pulled back slightly, looking at Ryan’s face...or at least, the side that wasn’t buried in his shoulder. He was somewhat bemused to see that Ryan appeared to be fast asleep. His eyes were firmly shut, long brown lashes against skin that was still too pale. Colin stroked a hand through Ryan’s hair, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Ryan,” he whispered, “I love you.” * * * Finis March 14 to March 15, 2003