Fic Time! - The Ultimate Escape 12/?

[energy_purple]

It's finally here!!!! Seriously, I apologise for the near 3 month wait for this chapter, but it's finally here for all of your viewing pleasure!!! I will warn you, this gets incredibly dark and disturbing, even for me :/ This is Alex's POV of the actions of the last chapter when Chris left him alone to go after AJ in case there's any confusion! Hope you all enjoy it!!!

Title: The Ultimate Escape - Chapter 12/?
Author: Hayley, energy_purple 
Pairing: Alex Shelley/?, eventual Alex Shelley/Chris Sabin
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 8671
Warnings: Violence, implied rape, ATTEMPTED SUICIDE. You have been warned!!!!

Summary: Trapped. Helpless. Afraid. Unable to escape. As Alex's life crumbles down around him, who will save him from the hell that his life has become?


The billowing steam was scorching hot by the time Alex stepped into the shower, his skin immediately screaming under the mercilessly scolding torrent of water that rained down on him. Unable to stop his natural reactions, Alex flinched back slightly as the water hit the bruises developing down his ribs, giving out an involuntary hiss of pain as the tears welled up in his eyes. He could hear the softest of sighs coming from Chris, and he knew that Chris was desperately unhappy with what Alex was trying to do to himself, but he was respectful enough not to question Alex's decision. After all, what could Chris actually do? Chris, despite his best efforts, could never fully understand what AJ had done to him. He'd never understand just how much AJ had broken him.

After a couple of minutes, he could see the shadow on the wall move as Chris headed towards the door, and as it clicked shut, Alex could feel the tension flood back through him. He was alone. Alone, he had time to reflect on everything that AJ had done, on just how much pain and suffering he could feel running through his entire body. As he turned to stare distantly into the tiles that lined the shower, he could still hear AJ's vicious taunts and screams of abuse echoing through his head clear as day. He could still hear the malicious laugh that AJ gave out whilst he was raping him, and as the ripple of water ran down the wall, he could've almost sworn that he could see AJ's face, staring straight back at him, that sick grin still plastered on his face.

Alex frantically turned away from the tiles, his breathing fast and heavy as the tears that he was desperately trying to hold back began to roll down his face. He could still feel the ghost of AJ's fingers touching his skin, AJ's hands running forcefully up the inside of his thighs, and Alex began to feel impossibly sick as he screwed his eyes shut, trying to stop the images that were assaulting him from every side. They didn't disappear; if anything, they came at him worse than before, viciously attacking him, and Alex felt completely helpless to stop them.

The pain that Alex could feel pulsing through his body throbbed relentlessly as the sense memories of AJ beating him, fucking him, cutting and biting him came roaring back. Alex's hand immediately came up to cup the side of his neck, covering up the deep cut embedded on the side as a strangled sob threaded itself through his swollen throat. He'd never felt so damn scared in his life. Looking around from side to side, Alex tried to find something, anything, that he could use to fight the invisible attackers that were surrounding him, boxing him in. He felt like he was trapped, no way out as the walls closed in around him.

Grabbing a wash cloth, he started to scrub frantically, desperate to erase the cheapness, the dirtiness that he felt crawl across him. He could feel goosebumps break out across his skin where AJ had touched him, where the AJ in his mind was still touching and stroking his skin, and Alex could feel the bile rising in his throat as he gave a choked sob, his scrubbing instinctively becoming more and more vicious as the fear and pain he felt became worse. No matter how hard, how red raw he rubbed his skin, he still couldn't rid himself of his memories, of the sickening feeling of worthlessness that coursed through his veins. He was never going to be cleansed. He was always going to be used. Filthy. Abused. A whore.

His hands now moving at an almost blurred pace, he threw the cloth to the floor in a fit of spontaneous panic upon the realisation that he couldn't get rid of AJ's vile touches; he could still feel them. He felt completely numb on the inside as a bubble of hysteria rapidly began to surface from underneath his marked and battered skin, and he started to hyperventilate, completely unable to regain control of the body that now felt entirely foreign to him.

His back resting flush against the damp tiles, he could feel the cold shivers of sweat running over him, a stark contrast to the scolding heat of the water that was continuing to rain down on him. His vision glazed over with fear and terror, he no longer had the strength to support himself anymore as he felt his legs give way beneath him. Sliding down, he curled his knees into his chest, burying his face as hysterical sobs echoed through the room.

He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't fight it. With each and every second that passed, he could feel himself sinking lower and lower as the want and urge to die became stronger and stronger. He needed to do something, anything, just to put a stop to the constant agony that his life had become. Lifting his head, he could barely feel the burning pain, the constant tears, anything through the unrelenting rainstorm; his skin had turned an angry red from the obsessive, frenetic scrubbing and the cascading water. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out an object. A razor. Almost as if he was disconnected from his own actions, Alex couldn't stop himself from reaching out to grab it, pulling it into himself slowly.

He stared down at it vacantly, the tip of his finger almost caressing the plastic that held the blades in place as the light glinted and shone off of the metal. The tears streaming down his face, and his hand beginning to shake, he began to frantically pull and claw at the casing that contained the blades, desperately trying to reach them. That was what he needed. That was what would help him. He needed to feel that tiny bit of control that AJ could never take from him. He needed to feel pain inflicted by his own hand. He needed to bleed.

Eventually, the plastic broke apart in his hands. Almost wanting to sob with relief at the feel of the cold, heavy metal in his grasp, he carefully placed the plastic and the rest of the blades down on the floor of the shower, desperately praying that he'd kept quiet enough not to gain Chris' attention. At the thought of Chris, Alex briefly paused, the tears coming harder and faster as he devoted a few moments to the surge of emotion that rolled over him at the mere vision of Chris waiting for him on the other side of the door. Why would Chris ever love him now? How could Chris possibly care for a worthless, pathetic whore like him? He wasn't worth it. He didn't deserve Chris.

Through teary eyes, Alex gazed down at the single blade that was held between his violently shaking fingers, before slowly lowering it to rest against the flesh on his forearm. At the feel of the cold metal touching his boiling hot and overly sensitive skin, Alex winced, and he almost lost all of his nerve. Closing his eyes, Alex took some deep breaths to try and calm himself; he couldn't back out now. He needed to do this. He needed to be able to feel something more than the excruciating pain and shame that he felt crawling across every inch of his being. He pushed all thoughts of Chris to the back of his mind; if he thought about Chris now, there was no way he'd be able to do this. He couldn't afford to think for more than a few seconds, otherwise he'd end up chickening out.

Biting his bottom lip hard to stop himself from screaming out in pain, Alex pressed the blade hard into his arm before slowly drawing his hand across the skin. He could feel the flesh buckle under the metal, the blood beginning to bead and run down his arm, and he took a deep breath to compose himself before he opened his eyes and stared down at the wound. It was deep, the blood mixing with the water and rolling almost profusely down his skin before dripping off the tip of his fingers. It stung like fuck, and as the red hot pain began to engulf the cut, he could feel the tears come harder and fast as he let out a strangled sob.

Pushing aside the pain, he repeated the action again. And again. Almost every inch of his skin was stained a disturbing shade of red as the blood poured out of his arm and dripped onto the floor below, but Alex could no longer feel it. His entire arm had gone numb; it reflected just how numb he felt on the inside. There was no relief. There was no rush of calmness. There was nothing. It was almost like he was dead. He felt dead.

The blade came down again, more frantic and fast than beforehand as Alex sliced into his skin. He didn't care for just how close to his wrist he was getting; as far as he was concerned, this was a possible means to an end, and if that was the case, then that was that. The cuts became more frenzied, as the desire to feel something, anything, became stronger and stronger, but it felt as if Alex's body was refusing to co-operate with him. Eventually, Alex had to pause. The loss of blood was making him feel dizzy, and his hand was shaking so damn violently now that he was surprised he could even keep hold of the blade, let alone do anything with it.

Through choked, hiccuped sobs, Alex attempted to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down, but it wasn't working. He felt like he was going to start hyperventilating again when he realised that his desperate attempts to end it all weren't working. He was resigned to living a life full of pain and misery. Figuring he had nothing to lose, Alex pressed the blade down onto his wrist. He could just about make out a shadow out of the corner of his eye, watching him, but he couldn't give a shit as he drew the harsh metal across the soft flesh. He hadn't even finished making the cut before the blood spilled out, faster than before, and as the white hot agony shot through his hand, Alex couldn't stop himself from cradling his arm into his chest as he gave a deep hiss of pain.

The shadow slowly moved closer towards him, and as Alex focused through the tears and the water that was half blinding him, he could recognise exactly who was standing there watching him. The boiling hot water that had been pouring down over his beaten and battered body suddenly stopped, and the rush of cold air that followed the loss of heat made Alex shiver as he gave out a half-choked sob. Lifting his head up just slightly, he stared distantly at Chris, watching as Chris slowly dropped to his knees in front of him. His eyes were soft and sympathetic, and as they locked with Alex's, Alex couldn't help the wave of self-loathing and despair that he felt wash over him.

Would Chris get angry with him? Would Chris abandon him? Would Chris hate him? Alex could barely deal with what his life had become; he didn't think he'd be able to survive if Chris turned his back on him now when he needed him the most. He wouldn't be able to survive if Chris left him alone to suffer by himself. It would utterly destroy him, and Alex didn't think he'd be able to carry on if Chris wasn't there by his side to support and care for him. Chris was the only worthwhile thing that he had left. He couldn't lose him. Not now.

Alex watched as Chris paused for a few moments, almost as if he wasn't entirely sure as to what to do, before he slowly reached his hand out towards Alex, and Alex immediately knew exactly what it was that Chris was asking of him. Chris wasn't demanding him. Chris wasn't even telling him what to do, and Alex couldn't help but be thankful that Chris was obviously taking this a hell of a lot better than Alex had envisioned. The metal blade suddenly felt extremely heavy and cold in his hand, but Alex couldn't bring himself to let go of it. If he let go of it, then that meant he was surrendering to his only chance of ending his life the way he wanted to.

Tilting his head back against the rapidly cooling tiles behind him, Alex screwed his eyes shut, tears streaming down his face as he desperately tried to fight the voice in his mind, the one that told him to push away the figure in front of him, to carry out what he intended to do, to stop being such a coward. After a few minutes of silence, Alex shakily stretched out his hand towards Chris, the blade almost slipping from his grip before he dropped it into Chris' open hand. Never once taking his eyes off of Alex, Chris moved the blade out of Alex's reach, his heart thudding in his chest as he looked back into Alex's haunted stare.

Suddenly, the need for some kind of physical touch, the comfort that only being skin to skin with somebody could provide, completely overwhelmed Alex, and he collapsed forward, his head resting on Chris' shoulder. He grabbed desperately at Chris' t-shirt, burying his face into the soft flesh of Chris' neck as he sobbed hysterically, his entire body shaking as he gave up fighting the tension and the fear that he felt. He was so scared. For a terrifying second, Alex was convinced that Chris wasn't going to do anything, but his fears were laid to rest when Chris wrapped his arms tight around Alex's back, embracing him with every ounce of love and protection that he possessed as he rested his head softly against Alex's.

"Shhh," Chris whispered into Alex's ear, not caring if Alex could hear him over the sound of his continuous sobs. "Shhh, it's okay. Come on now, it's going to be okay..."

No it won't be, Alex replied silently. No it won't be.

Alex rested his back flat against the wall, staring distantly across the room. He didn't want to make eye contact with Chris. He was terrified of what he'd see staring back at him. He was terrified of the anger, of the disgust that he was completely positive would be seeping out of every pore on Chris' skin. He felt utterly sickened with himself, so why would Chris feel any differently? Alex could feel Chris' eyes on him as he sat slumped back against the wall by the bathroom door, and he couldn't help but tense up slightly. How could Chris even stand to look at him after what AJ had done to him, after what he had done to himself?

It had confused Alex immensely when Chris had extended his hand towards him, offering to help him off of the floor of the shower. The look of sincerity and adoration in Chris' eyes as he had stared down at Alex, softly whispering to him that it would all be okay, that he still loved him, was something that had made Alex's heart clench up in his chest and the feeling of nausea rise up in his gut. Chris loved him. How could Chris love him? How could he love a disgusting, dirty whore like him? He wasn't worthy of any kind of love. AJ had taken whatever fragile images of love he had and reduced them to utter tatters at his feet. Chris couldn't love him. He just couldn't. He didn't deserve Chris' love.

Eventually, Alex had gathered together the strength to reach out towards Chris, his arm now sticky and thick with drying blood as Chris had helped him to his feet. For a few seconds, their eyes had met, and the tension that had filled the room had almost become suffocating. As the moments stretched by, Alex could feel the tears beginning to well up once more, and it almost physically hurt him when he dropped his gaze to the floor, desperately trying not to break down again. Chris had squeezed Alex's hand gently in response, before he had grabbed a towel and softly started to dry Alex off.

With every soft stroke of Chris' hands, Alex had been waiting for the shiver that always followed Chris' touch, the one that sent a warm feeling of contentment through him. It hadn't come. All he felt was empty. Chris' head had ducked down to place the gentlest of kisses on the back of Alex's neck, before he had nuzzled his cheek softly into the bruised, tense flesh. Alex couldn't respond to him. Alex couldn't feel Chris. He couldn't feel his warmth. He couldn't feel his affection. He couldn't feel anything. Alex heard Chris give out a sad sigh before he continued to dry his back, and it did nothing to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. He was hurting Chris, and that was something that killed him more than anything.

Even after about 20 minutes of the softest, most luxurious care that Chris could provide him with, Alex hadn't felt any better than he did when he had initially stepped into the shower, and as Chris' hand gently clasped his left wrist, careful of the deep cut in it, Alex had tensed up quite considerably. This was the lecture he had been fearing, the abuse that he knew was going to come. But it hadn't. After tenderly wiping his thumb over the still bleeding cut, Chris had turned towards the sink and grabbed a cloth before damping it down.

Turning back towards Alex, Chris had carefully and tentatively pressed the cloth against Alex's forearm, and Alex could see the guilt crossing Chris' face when Alex had flinched slightly, giving a quiet whimper of pain. Letting out a deep breath that Alex had presumed was to help calm himself down, Chris had started to wipe away the dried blood that had stained Alex's arm a sickening shade of red. As the blood had been cleaned away, the near shocking extent of what Alex had done to himself had become visible, the deep, frenzied cuts covering almost every inch of his flesh, and Chris' breath had hitched in his throat.

Looking back up at Alex sadly, Chris had leaned forward, pressing soft, tender kisses to each and every individual cut, and the agonising vulnerability that had painted itself across Alex's features had made Chris shut his eyes against threatening tears of his own. Alex had found himself shying away from the attention quite considerably; he didn't deserve that level of care and attention off of Chris. He didn't deserve anything that Chris was offering to him. He didn't deserve Chris. He didn't even deserve to live after what AJ had done to him. He didn't deserve anything.

That had led to now. Chris had given Alex a pair of boxers for him to wear, and after fumbling about with the clothing, his hands shaking so badly that he was surprised he could hold anything, Alex had eventually dressed himself. He had taken a deep breath to compose himself before he stepped out of his sanctuary, but not even the moment after he had left the room, Alex could feel all of that strength flee as he collapsed against the wall. He hadn't moved since. He couldn't bring himself to move.

In his own little bubble, he felt safe - well, as safe as he possibly could feel, which wasn't very much at all. He could still feel the ghost of AJ's fingers roaming greedily over his skin, and the goosebumps that had appeared in the shower came back tenfold as Alex began to scratch at his skin, desperate to get rid of the memories that were still attacking him. He gave out hisses of pain as his nails dug into the fresh cuts on his arm, but he didn't care for the blinding agony that was beginning to pulse through his arm. The adrenaline was beginning to build up inside of him as the flashbacks became more and more violent, and Alex's could feel his ties to reality being severed as he was absorbed further and further into the nightmarish world that his life had become.

Alex screamed out in pure unadulterated fear when he felt a hand clasp down softly over his own, flinching so damn violently that he ended up hitting his head hard on the door frame behind him. His entire body was viciously shaking with terror, and Alex started to hyperventilate once more as the replays in his mind hit a fever pitch, becoming so darkly intense that Alex almost felt as if he was there in that dirty little lockerroom again, being raped and beaten once more by AJ. He could barely hear anything over the maniacal laughter and taunts rushing through his ears; he definitely couldn't hear Chris calling out his name, desperately trying to pull Alex out of his flashback.

Chris could feel the tears welling up further in his eyes as he watched Alex beg and plead for AJ to stop, watched him frantically fight back against his attacker, and the knowledge that he didn't have anyway of soothing Alex like he had done beforehand was enough to make him feel horribly sick. Instead, he just sat there in front of Alex's fear frozen body, his hand clasped tightly over Alex's as a way for Alex to anchor himself to the present, and just waited for the flashback to run its course. It utterly killed Chris that he had no way of stopping the pain and torture that Alex was obviously suffering through, but he knew that even just being there for Alex when he came back around would be more than nothing.

Eventually, the cries and calls began to quieten as Alex slowly came back to himself, his breathing fast and shallow as the shaking that was ripping through his body increased its intensity. His eyes were glazed over, and it almost seemed to Chris as if he was staring straight through him, not actually seeing him, and that was something that concerned Chris more than anything. Feeling that Alex was coming to the end of his nightmare, Chris started to softly call Alex's name again, and he gave a faint smile when Alex turned to look at him, the sweat pouring off of him as he clutched convulsively at Chris' hand covering his own.

"I'm here Alex, I'm right here, I promise," Chris whispered, dropping a kiss into Alex's hair as he pulled Alex into him.

Alex was barely recognising the fact that Chris was touching him; he could barely feel Chris there at all. He felt like he was alone. Completely and utterly alone, like there was no-one there in the darkness that had surrounded him. He was completely and utterly traumatised, and he knew that there was absolutely nothing that Chris could do to help him feel any better. As the tremors that were wracking his body slowly came to an end, Alex became more aware of the fact that Chris was holding him, and that was something that helped to soothe him even just a little bit as he gradually began to relax into Chris' body, the tension leaving his body as he gave up fighting against the fear that he could feel.

His head slumped against Chris' chest, Alex could just about hear the quiet, steady rhythm of Chris' heartbeat vibrating through his ear; Alex desperately tried to draw some kind of comfort from it as he buried his face further into the warm, soft flesh of Chris' body, but he coudn't. It only made him feel horribly sick. Everything about Chris, his mind, body and soul, was so full of life and energy that it was unreal. As Alex focused in on the soft murmer of his own heartbeat thudding almost silently inside him, he didn't feel that same kind of spirit and exuberance. He felt dead. He deserved to be dead. He didn't deserve to live.

They stayed like that on the floor for what seemed like hours, Chris' arms wrapped firmly around Alex's still violently trembling body as he whispered words of love and adoration into his ear. Chris' fingertips were teasing through Alex's damp hair, occasionally straying to massage small, delicate circles into the slowly bruising flesh that ran down the length of Alex's neck and into the curve of his shoulder. He was careful not to touch the deep cut embedded into the side of Alex's throat; anytime Chris' fingers brushed anywhere close to it, Alex panicked, freaking out and tensing up uncontrollably, and that only served to increase Chris' concern and anger.

Chris could barely imagine what AJ had threatened to do to Alex for him to have such a vicious wound like that inflicted right on top of his pulse point, but he was pretty damn sure that he was going to find out when he eventually went to hunt down AJ and kick his face in. However, everytime he looked down at Alex, everytime he heard the softest of sobs and felt the shallowest of breaths brush against the crook of his neck, it became harder for Chris to reconcile himself to the idea of leaving Alex by himself just so that he could get some petty revenge.

Letting out a deep sigh, Chris gazed down at Alex guiltily, noticing with interest and a small amount of relief at the way Alex's eyes had closed and how his lips were slightly parted. Alex was asleep. It didn't really surprise Chris; he knew that Alex had to be physically and emotionally drained after AJ's attack, and it made his heart clench up in his chest that Alex apparently still trusted him enough, even after AJ had raped and beaten him, to fall asleep in his company and not feel the slightest bit worried.

Biting his lip softly, Chris' eyes kept flitting from Alex to the door and back again. Maybe this was the opportunity he needed? Alex was way too vulnerable to be left by himself when he was awake, but if he was asleep, then Chris could sneak off and potentially be back before Alex even had the chance to wake up and notice that he wasn't there. It wasn't something that Chris really wanted to do; what if Alex woke up and he needed him? What if Alex had yet another nightmare or flashback? However, the more he thought about it, the more he realised that this was probably going to be the only chance he would get.

Tucking Alex into him further, Chris very carefully hooked his arm underneath Alex's legs before picking the sleeping man up. It surprised Chris as to just how light and quite scarily thin Alex actually was; it almost felt like he hadn't been eating properly. If Chris moved his fingers just slightly along Alex's side, he was pretty damn sure that he could make out the indents where his ribs were; hell, the closer towards Alex's abdomen he traced his fingertips, he was almost fucking positive that he could make out where the breaks in Alex's ribs were failing to heal up. It made Chris' heart ball up tight in his chest and tears well up in his eyes when he realised that Alex was obviously suffering much, much worse than Chris had originally thought.

Guarding Alex as though he was some kind of precious cargo - well, in Chris' mind, he was - Chris carried Alex over to the bed, before very gently laying him down on the covers. Cradling the side of Alex's head as he carefully propped the pillows underneath it, Chris could feel the way that Alex almost seemed to instinctively nuzzle his head against the palm of Chris' hand; it made Chris smile slightly in spite of his discomfort and growing concern. It sent a warm glow of contentment through him that, even in his sleep, Alex still seemed to reach out towards him for some kind of comfort. The fact that Alex trusted him was what made everything he was doing worthwhile.

Positioning Alex on his back, his legs curled up slightly and his hand draped across his stomach in an almost protective manner, Chris moved to sit next to him on the edge of the bed. It was impossible for Chris to keep his eyes off of him; despite the tension and the tightness that still wracked Alex's body, Alex looked so relaxed and innocent; he was beautiful, and it killed Chris to know that AJ had tried, and possibly succeeded, in utterly destroying him for no reason.

Gently teasing his fingers through Alex's hair, he gave a smile at the way that Alex's lips twitched just slightly at the softness of his touch; after the incident in the bathroom where Alex hadn't been able to respond in any way to the care that Chris was trying to give him, it calmed Chris down to see that he could still have that effect on Alex, even after everything he had been through. Unable to resist, Chris leaned down, brushing feather-light kisses along the length of the vicious purple and black bruises that marred most of Alex's face, almost as if that overwhelming love alone could potentially get rid of them, before pressing his lips softly against Alex's own.

It almost felt as if time had stopped for Chris as his lips gently molded to Alex's, but after what had actually been a couple of minutes, Chris pulled away with a deep sigh, gazing down sadly at Alex's sleeping form. Stroking the backs of his fingers down the curve of Alex's neck, Chris softly traced the deep wound on the side of his throat that Alex hadn't allowed him access to; even in his sleep, he could feel Alex's muscles tense and tighten in fear. It was when Alex let out almost the faintest whimper as he curled up into himself slightly, Chris' fingers been dragged away from the mark in the process, that Chris' resolve and determination strengthened. AJ needed to pay. AJ needed to suffer just as much as he'd made Alex suffer.

Sending one last guilty look at the door to their room, Chris leaned down towards Alex again, pressing a gentle kiss into his hairline just next to the cut that lay above his right temple before pulling away reluctantly. Chris grabbed the hand that was laying on the bed next to Alex's stomach and, intertwining their fingers carefully to make sure he didn't disturb Alex from his sleep, he gave a gentle squeeze.

"I love you," Chris whispered, his words thick with the emotion that he was feeling. Wiping away the tears that were threatening to run down his face with his free hand, he softly squeezed Alex's hand again before he let go and stood up. "I'll be back soon."

Taking a deep breath, Chris finally drew his eyes away from Alex and stared intently at the door; he knew if he looked back down at Alex at that precise second in time, his resolve would crumble into dust, and he'd lay back down in the bed with him instead of carrying out what he felt needed to be done. His own thoughts and fears began to plague him once again; did he really need to do this? Was it worth leaving Alex? How would he be able to live with himself if Alex got hurt whilst he was gone? Could he put Alex through all of that?

Closing his eyes tightly, Chris rolled his neck, pushing all of his thoughts to the back of his mind as much as he could before he started to walk across the room towards the door. There was no turning back now. He was doing this for Alex. He was doing this for them. Opening the door quietly, Chris slipped out into the corridor and closed the door silently behind him, never looking back for one second.

It was gone midnight when Alex quietly entered his room, his nerves and fear running rampant through his entire body as he tried to slip in without drawing attention to himself. He was desperately hoping and praying to find AJ asleep on their double bed. One quick drink with his friends - one that, he knew, he wasn't supposed to have whatsoever considering the fact that AJ demanded he go straight back to their room after Impact had finished - after the tapings had grown into an impromptu party, the alcohol flowing freely as people tried to use the amber liquid to chase away the exhaustion. Alex had already spent too long in the bar; he was surprised that AJ hadn't come down and forcibly dragged him back upstairs.

He knew that he had broken the rules; he had disobeyed AJ in one of the worst ways possible. He had blatantly ignored his demands and, to make things so much more worse, hung out with other men willingly, something that AJ had drilled into Alex's head time and time again was a bad thing to do. That would be more than enough grounds for AJ to inflict a severe beating on him, no matter what Alex said and did to try and protect or defend himself. Lost in his thoughts and fears, he hadn't noticed that AJ was standing in the door of the kitchen, watching Alex with pure venom and disgust in his eyes, and Alex jumped out of his skin in terror when he heard the door slam shut.

"Where the fuck have you been?" AJ whispered icily at Alex. Alex had come to know that tone of voice; it was the tone that he feared most of all, the one that made him cower in fear whenever he heard it. Grabbing the younger mans shoulder and spinning him around, AJ glared menacingly as Alex's panic-frozen body as he took a slow step forwards towards him. Alex instinctively stepped back. The dread was written all over his face as AJ stalked him methodically across the room, and when Alex felt something solid behind his back, that was when his heart beat tripled in speed as he tried not to hyperventilate. His back flush against the wall, he came nose to nose with AJ, fearful tremors making themselves known.

Alex couldn't answer AJ; his words were stuck in the back of his throat, choking him as his breaths started to become shallow. AJ leaned in towards Alex's body, planting his hands on the wall either side of Alex's head. The way that AJ's fingers were drumming a faint rhythm right into his ear was something that scared him more than anything; that meant that AJ wanted an answer, and he wanted it now. Panicking when AJ's eyes narrowed malevolently as the silence continued, his body gradually boxing Alex into the wall, Alex immediately groped for an excuse.

"I g-got ask-k-ked by Dixie t-to stay behind a-a-and..." He hadn't even finished his sentence when AJ lunged forward, his forehead pressed hard against Alex's own so that Alex couldn't do anything to avoid the piercing rage that AJ locked onto him. Alex flinched violently, and he recoiled into the hard wall behind him as AJ glared at him viciously.

"Bullshit Alex, stop lying to me! So who were you whoring yourself out to this time, huh?" AJ's tone was sinister, cold and dangerous, his eyes darkened with anger as he fixed his gaze with the visibly scared Alex.

Alex didn't answer. He knew that it was completely worthless trying to defend himself now, and he resigned himself to his fate. The same fate that had happened everyday for over 8 months now. He hissed when he felt AJ's hands suddenly move off of the wall, gripping on his shoulders as AJ shoved him further back against the wall with unreserved strength. With every second of silence that passed, with every tear that began to fall down Alex's face as he realised what was going to happen, AJ's hold on him tightened to the point of bruising.

AJ almost gave a disturbed grin at the way Alex looked to be resisting him; it was pathetic, he thought evilly. After a few more minutes of feeling Alex shake violently in his grasp, of watching the tears race down his cheeks, AJ just shook his head in disbelief, a dark laugh echoing around the room. Just as quickly as the laugh started, it stopped, and the whole atmosphere changed in the blink of an eye as he physically pulled Alex up straight, seething with rage. He roughly cupped his cheek, eliciting a whimper from the younger man.

"Don't you dare fucking lie to me again, you worthless piece of shit! You belong to me, I own you!" He growled threateningly, drawing his hand back sharply before connecting with a stiff punch to the face, watching with a sick smirk as Alex crumpled to the floor, shaking with fear as tears rolled down his cheek. He bent down, wrapping a hand around his throat fiercely, delighting in the staggered breath that Alex fought to take. The grip around Alex's neck tightening dangerously, AJ roughly dragged him over to the bed in the middle of the room, ignoring Alex's begs and sobs for forgiveness as he threw him viciously on the top of the covers before pinning him down with his body.

"And I'll make sure that you never fucking forget it," he whispered maliciously as he clawed at Alex's jeans, not caring for Alex's struggling and pleading as he got them undone before popping the button on his own...

With a strangled cry of terror, Alex's eyes flew open, the sweat pouring down his face. He was practically hyperventilating as he tried to shake off the remnants of the nightmare that was assaulting his mind, every muscle in his body tensed and violently shaking as the tears began to well up in his eyes. He tried to relax himself as much as he could, but sharp stabs of agonising hurt began to ripple through him and he couldn't stop himself from letting out a pained whimper.

That dream had been way too much for him to handle. It was too much for him to suffer through after what AJ had done to him earlier that day. Every moment he was awake, he was subjected to the pain and humiliation, to the overwhelming fear and shame that flooded every inch of his mind; he couldn't deal with it happening when he was asleep as well. There seemed to be no respite from the torture that his life had ultimately become, and that was what scared Alex more than anything. At that moment in time, he was desperate to make it all stop; he was willing to do whatever it took to make all of the haunting nightmares and memories disappear, no matter how permanent it was. He just needed it to stop. He needed his life to stop.

It wasn't until Alex gradually came back to himself that he realised something was wrong. There was no whispers of comfort or reassurance. There were no warm arms enveloping his body to soothe away his pain and fear. There were no soft lips pressed to his skin to prove his worthiness, or to prove that he was loved. As those thoughts started to hit him, Alex suddenly began to feel cold, the tears he'd been desperately to try and hold back escaping down his bruised face as his stomach knotted up tight and his heart literally stopped beating within his chest.

Chris was gone.

Chris had abandoned him.

Chris had left.

Alex could no longer restrain the sobs that had already begun to rip through him, destroying every inch of his soul as he buried his face into the pillow, desperately praying that this was nothing more than a sick dream. However, as the minutes passed, and the suffocating silence continued, Alex realised that his worst fears had come true. Chris, the one man he thought would help him survive this, truly had been disgusted by him; so disgusted that he'd slipped out without a word. He couldn't even bear to be in the same room as him. He'd abandoned him. Chris hated him. Chris wanted him to suffer. Chris didn't care about him. Chris didn't care if Alex died. Chris didn't love him.

Alex let out another heart-breaking sob as he tried to fight through his fears, but try as he might, he couldn't. He felt completely sick to his stomach, struggling even to take in a breath as he gave up believing anymore. He just couldn't do this anymore. Chris was all that Alex had left, and he had thrown him to the roadside without a single care. It didn't surprise him, Alex thought darkly as the black, hollow depression and bleakness overwhelmed him further; if Alex didn't care whether he wanted to live, then why would Chris? Maybe Chris just wanted Alex to die, so that he wouldn't have to try and deal with him? After all, he was nothing more than a filthy, abused whore. Why would Chris care what happened to him?

He felt numb. He felt more than numb; he felt dead. Completely dead. He couldn't feel the hysterical tears that were streaming down his face. He couldn't feel the dull, heavy murmer of his own heartbeat inside his chest. He couldn't feel anything. He didn't deserve to feel anything. He deserved to suffer, to be tortured by his pain, agony and fear for the rest of his life. In the sudden moment, Alex realised exactly what he had to do. He had to disappear. He had to make things stop. He had to make life stop. His life. It just wasn't worth it anymore.

It was almost as if Alex had lost complete control of himself, his body on autopilot as he slowly sat up and swung his legs around so that he was perched on the edge of the bed. Their bed. Alex took a deep breath in, and as he did, the soft scent that embodied Chris - the only trace of Chris he had left, that he could take with him - began to hit him, and he couldn't stop the loathing and despair he felt wash over him. He had driven Chris away; he didn't deserve Chris. He had never deserved Chris.

Alex had barely even noticed himself stand up, his entire body flooded with tension and pain as he closed his eyes, desperately trying to will down the tears that were refusing to go away. His head hung low, unable to even look at himself out of sheer pain and shame, Alex slowly walked across the bedroom towards the door of the bathroom, feeling as if every part of his body was weighed down with lead as he dragged his feet lazily against the thick carpet. With every step he took, he could hear AJ's vicious and vile taunts reverberating through his mind, telling him that this was what he needed to do, telling him that he didn't deserve to live, that he was worthless and that no-one would care after he was gone.

As much as it physically killed him, Alex couldn't help but believe it. No-one would even notice. Not even Chris.

Pushing at the door to the bathroom, Alex stepped inside, flicking the light switch on and watching morosely as the room flooded with brightness. The air was still thick and cloyed with heat and damp from his shower earlier, and he couldn't help but instinctively look down towards the floor of the shower. There, smeared across the cold white tiles, were streaks and small pools of blood. His blood. He could feel the deep cuts on his arm and wrist beginning to throb as he thought back on what he had tried to do, on what Chris had stopped him doing. He angrily pushed that thought away; if Chris didn't care about him, he certainly wasn't going to care for Chris.

Turning his head, Alex caught sight of himself in the mirror of the medicine cabinet, and he couldn't help but feel sick. Just looking at all of the thick black and purple bruises that covered his face, the knife wound on his neck, the bite marks that started at his shoulder and made their way down his chest and abdomen, he felt beyond sick. He stared himself out in the mirror for a few more seconds, unable to tear himself away from the sheer pain and emptiness that was staring back at him, before reaching his hand up to slide open the cabinet. He saw what he was looking for almost immediately; his eyes were drawn, almost hypnotically, to the new, full bottle of pills that had been prescribed for him by the doctor. Wrapping his fingers around the plastic container, he slowly pulled it out before closing up the cupboard again.

Putting the toilet seat down, Alex sat down on it, gazing distantly at the tablets in his hand as his fingers began to shake just slightly from the fear. Could he really do this? Could he really take that last step? After all, it wasn't like there was anything to lose; the one person that had been worth living for had walked out and abandoned him in disgust. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Alex twisted the bottle top off, before setting it down carefully on the edge of the sink. All those small little white pills; there had to be a good hundred or so in there. That was going to be more than enough. After all, the whole reason he had been given those pills was to kill the pain.

Tipping a handful out into his left hand, Alex closed his eyes tight, the tears beginning to dribble down his cheek as he opened his mouth and swallowed them instantly; if he thought about it, he'd chicken out. The faster he did it, the better it would be for everybody. The texture and chalkiness of them made him gag and the bile roil in his stomach, but that didn't stop him as he swallowed another handful. And another. And another. He was beginning to pick up speed now; he gotten past his fears and just wanted to get it over and done with. It would be better for everybody that way.

Dropping the empty bottle onto the floor, Alex had to take a deep breath to prevent himself from being violently sick as his head thumped and pounded viciously inside his skull. Opening his eyes, his vision had started to blur around the edges and the room was starting to spin rather rapidly, but Alex wasn't content. It wasn't happening fast enough. He needed something to speed up the process, something that would ensure that he wouldn't have to live another second of the hell that his life had become. Blindly swatting his hand around behind his shoulder on the toilet system, he felt his fingers drag against something sharp, and he couldn't help the bitter smile that crossed his face.

It was the razor blade. The one that he'd destroyed earlier. The one that Chris had taken away. But Chris wasn't here to stop him this time. He could finally do what he'd started mere hours before.

Almost losing his balance as the drugs began to effect him body, Alex pulled the blade around from behind him and just stared at it. His hands were getting sweaty now, his skin clammy and cold, and he realised that he had to do it now before he was in no fit state to do so. He went to lean forward slightly over to block out the unbearable brightness of the light that was hitting his eyes, but he went with a rough lurch, falling off of the seat and landing on his knees. His senses were definitely starting to dull now; everything sounded distant and far away, although it was muffled. Everything was starting to look dark and faded. He couldn't even feel the floor beneath him with his fingertips.

It was time.

Leaning backwards slightly to regain his balance, Alex held the blade between his trembling fingertips before exposing his right wrist. This had to be done properly. There had to be no way back. Taking a deep, staggered breath in, he bit down hard on his bottom lip to stop himself screaming out before he drew the blade hard, fast and deep against his wrist; it was deeper than he'd ever dared go before. The blood immediately poured out of the vicious wound and streamed profusely onto the white tiles, almost as if someone had turned on a tap. However, Alex could barely feel the excruciating pain; to him, it felt like such a release that it was almost as if it was euphoric for him.

He could feel all of the pain, the terror, fear and shame leaving his body in a rush, and he almost sobbed as AJ's voice quietened down to nothing inside his mind. He needed it to stay that way. The blade almost slipping from his grip as he held it with his other hand, the fingers drenched in blood as the deep cut continued to weep severely, he repeated the devastating action across his left wrist as well. His vision going completely black as the pounding in his head reached fever pitch, Alex let the bloodied blade drop onto the tiles with an ominous rattle before he collapsed face down onto the floor, his entire body thick with sweat and blood as he shook uncontrollably.

The seconds ticked by, and the darkness that was enveloping Alex drew him in further and further, he let out a deep sigh as his eyes finally fluttered shut.

He never heard Chris scream his name 10 minutes later. He never felt the hands of paramedics on him as they desperately tried to treat him. He never heard AJ's laugh in his ears as he was taken to the hospital.

Finally, no more pain.