No One Else
Title: No One Else
Author: quietprofanity
Fandom: Vulgar
Pairing: Will/Syd
Warnings: Mature themes, rape discussed
Disclaimer: Will, Syd, the Fanellis, and some of the dialogue are all property of Bryan Johnson and the View Askew productions. No copyright infringement intended. No money being made.
Notes: Slash. (On the smarmy side of slash, but slash nonetheless). This fanfic basically chronicles Syd’s thoughts during the scene when Will tells him about his rape. Oh, and this fanfic was written in the name of ORP. (http://orp.deep-ice.com)
Acknowledgements: Thank you for reading this, because it must be out of pity as there’s no way that you could have seen such a depraved, disgusting, incredibly unknown movie. But if you did see the movie… I love you. :-D
2008 Update: Although if you're one of those people who finds horror to be a cleansing agent, I'd really recommend tracking down this piece of View Askew apocrypha. It's ... not a GOOD movie, but it's a POWERFUL movie. And if you really don't like it, turn on Kevin Smith's commentary and laugh a bit.
~*~*~
I hear the words he’s telling me and I just can’t believe them. I don’t want to believe them. Fuck, I’d bet my ass Will doesn’t want to either. But who the hell would lie about something like this?
He barely looks at me as he talks. He’s staring at the floor, his uncombed bangs hanging over his eyes as he spills out his fucking horrible story. He went for that job he told me about: first job as a bachelor party clown. It wasn’t a party; some sick fuck and his two sons knocked him out. Drugged him. Raped him.
Raped him.
Like I said, who the hell would lie about something like this? I mean, fuck, the guy’s said some strange shit before. (Like the time when he told me that he wanted to be a clown when he grew up. He was sixteen.) This though… it’s true. It’s fucking real.
He finishes his story, telling me how he barely remembers anything. How he’s not sure if he’s glad that he woke up this morning.
I’m amazed when I hear the words come out of my mouth. I sound pretty fucking calm for the situation. Shit, my mind is going a mile a minute but my voice never wavers. I ask what the doctor said.
He just looks at me.
Fuck.
He didn’t go.
I can’t believe this. I try to convince him again.
He won’t hear it. “No questions or suggestions,” he pleads. “You agreed.”
I want to smack him. The stupid fuck. I remind him that those bastards could have been anywhere, could have anything. Fuck, he could have AIDS.
He tells me he knows. He tells me it was the first thought that went through his mind. He tells me that it doesn’t matter. If he has it, there’s nothing he or anyone else can do about.
How can he be this stupid? This isn’t something you can just push aside. I try to tell him to go to the cops again. Put those bastards in prison.
Will shakes his head. “How do you think it will look?”
“How would what look?”
“A man, dressed as a perverted clown, shows up to a party for three men and then cries foul after being roughed up a bit?”
I can’t fucking believe what I’m hearing. “‘A bit?’ There is more to it than that. You are minimizing it, man.”
“Do you wanna know why? Because that’s what a lawyer would do, that’s why. And I’m not about to sit in front of a jury who thinks I’m some sort of degenerate, defending my character.”
I try to get him to see past that, but he won’t budge.
“Will you reacting to the situation and think about it?” he cries. “They held me down and raped me!”
“Exactly!” I say. “That is why you should not let them walk. What you should do…”
“Damn it, Syd. That’s why I don’t want anyone to know!” He brings his bloodied, bandaged hands to his eyes and all I can see is how much they’re shaking. How much he’s shaking, rocking back and forth like he’s praying. He sobs. His voice breaks. “I don’t want anyone to know. I just don’t want anyone to know.”
He suddenly stands up as if to run away. “I don’t want anyone to know!”
And before I know what I’m doing I’m standing up and grabbing him. He struggles against me for a bit, but then he just grabs onto me.
“All right,” I say as I hold him. “It’s okay. No one else, right? Just me and you. Nobody else.”
In my arms I can feel him cry. I can feel him shake right before he sobs. “Nobody else…” I say again, and I feel even angrier. I want to take those sick fucks and kick the crap out of them myself… which is stupid, really. I’d never be able to fucking do it. If they could take down Will I’d be gone in less than a second. But I want to. Fuck, I want to.
“I just…” Will sobs again. “I never thought it would turn out like this…”
Damn right. Hell, a few short weeks ago when he came to me with the whole bachelor clown idea he was laughing about it. And now…
Crap.
I hug Will tighter and don’t say anything else. I just let him cry and I fucking wish I could do more. God, if only I could. Kill those fucks. Get Will to the police. Fuck, get him to the hospital. Something. Will, you son of a bitch. How can you just sit here?
How can you not let me help?
He’s still crying. Still sobbing. His tears dampen my favorite T-shirt that I still wear even though it looks like shit. I realize I’ve been stroking his hair, kind of like my Mom used to do to me, I guess. And this is the part where she’d kiss me and tell me that everything would be all right. That she’d make it all better. But of course, I can’t do that.
So I stand there in the ravaged room, holding my friend, my best friend, as he cries. I’ll do what he says. I won’t go to the cops. I won’t go to the hospital. I’ll let him deal with it. It’s what he wants. I hate it, but it’s what he fucking wants.
I can’t do much, but I can keep his promise.
“No one else,” I say again.
No one else.
The End.
Author: quietprofanity
Fandom: Vulgar
Pairing: Will/Syd
Warnings: Mature themes, rape discussed
Disclaimer: Will, Syd, the Fanellis, and some of the dialogue are all property of Bryan Johnson and the View Askew productions. No copyright infringement intended. No money being made.
Notes: Slash. (On the smarmy side of slash, but slash nonetheless). This fanfic basically chronicles Syd’s thoughts during the scene when Will tells him about his rape. Oh, and this fanfic was written in the name of ORP. (http://orp.deep-ice.com)
Acknowledgements: Thank you for reading this, because it must be out of pity as there’s no way that you could have seen such a depraved, disgusting, incredibly unknown movie. But if you did see the movie… I love you. :-D
2008 Update: Although if you're one of those people who finds horror to be a cleansing agent, I'd really recommend tracking down this piece of View Askew apocrypha. It's ... not a GOOD movie, but it's a POWERFUL movie. And if you really don't like it, turn on Kevin Smith's commentary and laugh a bit.
~*~*~
I hear the words he’s telling me and I just can’t believe them. I don’t want to believe them. Fuck, I’d bet my ass Will doesn’t want to either. But who the hell would lie about something like this?
He barely looks at me as he talks. He’s staring at the floor, his uncombed bangs hanging over his eyes as he spills out his fucking horrible story. He went for that job he told me about: first job as a bachelor party clown. It wasn’t a party; some sick fuck and his two sons knocked him out. Drugged him. Raped him.
Raped him.
Like I said, who the hell would lie about something like this? I mean, fuck, the guy’s said some strange shit before. (Like the time when he told me that he wanted to be a clown when he grew up. He was sixteen.) This though… it’s true. It’s fucking real.
He finishes his story, telling me how he barely remembers anything. How he’s not sure if he’s glad that he woke up this morning.
I’m amazed when I hear the words come out of my mouth. I sound pretty fucking calm for the situation. Shit, my mind is going a mile a minute but my voice never wavers. I ask what the doctor said.
He just looks at me.
Fuck.
He didn’t go.
I can’t believe this. I try to convince him again.
He won’t hear it. “No questions or suggestions,” he pleads. “You agreed.”
I want to smack him. The stupid fuck. I remind him that those bastards could have been anywhere, could have anything. Fuck, he could have AIDS.
He tells me he knows. He tells me it was the first thought that went through his mind. He tells me that it doesn’t matter. If he has it, there’s nothing he or anyone else can do about.
How can he be this stupid? This isn’t something you can just push aside. I try to tell him to go to the cops again. Put those bastards in prison.
Will shakes his head. “How do you think it will look?”
“How would what look?”
“A man, dressed as a perverted clown, shows up to a party for three men and then cries foul after being roughed up a bit?”
I can’t fucking believe what I’m hearing. “‘A bit?’ There is more to it than that. You are minimizing it, man.”
“Do you wanna know why? Because that’s what a lawyer would do, that’s why. And I’m not about to sit in front of a jury who thinks I’m some sort of degenerate, defending my character.”
I try to get him to see past that, but he won’t budge.
“Will you reacting to the situation and think about it?” he cries. “They held me down and raped me!”
“Exactly!” I say. “That is why you should not let them walk. What you should do…”
“Damn it, Syd. That’s why I don’t want anyone to know!” He brings his bloodied, bandaged hands to his eyes and all I can see is how much they’re shaking. How much he’s shaking, rocking back and forth like he’s praying. He sobs. His voice breaks. “I don’t want anyone to know. I just don’t want anyone to know.”
He suddenly stands up as if to run away. “I don’t want anyone to know!”
And before I know what I’m doing I’m standing up and grabbing him. He struggles against me for a bit, but then he just grabs onto me.
“All right,” I say as I hold him. “It’s okay. No one else, right? Just me and you. Nobody else.”
In my arms I can feel him cry. I can feel him shake right before he sobs. “Nobody else…” I say again, and I feel even angrier. I want to take those sick fucks and kick the crap out of them myself… which is stupid, really. I’d never be able to fucking do it. If they could take down Will I’d be gone in less than a second. But I want to. Fuck, I want to.
“I just…” Will sobs again. “I never thought it would turn out like this…”
Damn right. Hell, a few short weeks ago when he came to me with the whole bachelor clown idea he was laughing about it. And now…
Crap.
I hug Will tighter and don’t say anything else. I just let him cry and I fucking wish I could do more. God, if only I could. Kill those fucks. Get Will to the police. Fuck, get him to the hospital. Something. Will, you son of a bitch. How can you just sit here?
How can you not let me help?
He’s still crying. Still sobbing. His tears dampen my favorite T-shirt that I still wear even though it looks like shit. I realize I’ve been stroking his hair, kind of like my Mom used to do to me, I guess. And this is the part where she’d kiss me and tell me that everything would be all right. That she’d make it all better. But of course, I can’t do that.
So I stand there in the ravaged room, holding my friend, my best friend, as he cries. I’ll do what he says. I won’t go to the cops. I won’t go to the hospital. I’ll let him deal with it. It’s what he wants. I hate it, but it’s what he fucking wants.
I can’t do much, but I can keep his promise.
“No one else,” I say again.
No one else.
The End.