Fic: "Crash Against The Floor" Chapter 9/10

[apostrophee]

Wow, how long has it been since I've updated? My apologies, but I started having really bad pains in my hands and couldn't write for the last ten days, but, that's all gone and I can write again without pain (just slowly) so here you guys go and one more chapter left until the end ::sad face:: I'm a feedback whore and it's greatly appreciated :)

Title: "Crash Against The Floor" Chapter 9/10
Word Count: 2,042
Author:  caramel_maddy
Characters: Ville and Bam mainly along with almost anyone associated with them.
Story Summary: He knew something was wrong---off about the three men in the bar. He knew it, but instead of following his gut and leaving, he stayed to have just one more beer and with that final sip, Ville's life was changed forever.
Warning: Very, very, very dark themes. Non-consensual, angst and drama.

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

(Chapter One)     (Chapter Two)   (Chapter Three)      
        (Chapter Four)   (Chapter Five)




Chapter Nine

He stood out in the darkness, pulling his black sweatshirt close to his thin frame, inhaling the nicotine as he tried to allow it to relax his body. It was so cold the tips of his toes were aching and he’d only been outside for a few minutes. He stared out into the woods, watching the way the moon reflected against the almost ash gray color of the tree limbs out in the distance--a frosty cloud of smoke dancing above them as if it was trying to touch the stars that shined against the clear, deep purple of the sky. He exhaled, trying to breath out the last remnants of tension. His head was so twisted, his emotions in knots and his spirit…..his spirit felt exhausted and he just wanted to sleep….all he wanted was a peaceful night of sleep because it had been so long since he‘d had one.

He walked back into the house, the smell of booze and puke much more stronger after inhaling the strong, crisp scent of Pennsylvania farm country on a November night. He resisted the urge to vomit as his long, lean legs took the stairs two at a time to get away from the stench.

He stood outside of Bam’s door too afraid to turn the knob and enter. He didn’t want to deal with Bam at the moment. He didn’t want to hear how confused he made him feel and he didn’t want to have to pretend anymore that five years of friendship, five years of careless touches and drunken hugs had just been that--carelessness. He didn’t have the strength for pretending at the moment. But he was tired…..so tired…..so very, awfully tired and he didn’t want to put anymore discomfort on his body and anymore distress to his senses by trying to sleep on one of the scratchy couches that smelt of beer and old sex, in the pirate bar.

The lights were off in the bedroom and Ville could hear three sets of soft purrs as he walked in, the coolness chilling across his skin. Mischief slept peacefully at the foot of bed while Trouble perked her cat ears up and stared at Ville before turning on her back and going back to sleep. Bam was tucked under the covers, his bare back glistening from the light of the moon shining into the dimness of the room from the open window. Ville was tempted to close it, but he knew that Bam wouldn’t be able to sleep if he got too hot. Ville kicked off his sneakers, leaving them by the door as he peeled off his shirt exposing his thin chest. He crawled into the bed, careful to keep his distance away from Bam. He pulled the blanket up to his neck, turning his back to him and curling up into the fetal position as he allowed Bam’s soft breathing lull him into what he’d hoped for as a peaceful sleep.

He dreamed he was a child, back home in Finland, no more than ten years old. He was walking down a dark road, holding his little brother’s hand and he could smell fish, but he knew he was miles away from the fish markets. It was late…not the kind of late that’s just dark, but the kind of late where no one should have been out of their houses. He knew he was supposed to be home hours earlier and he feared his father was going to be angry with him if he didn’t get there soon. His brother began to cry and Ville tried to silence him by promising him candies if he stopped, but he wouldn’t…..he just kept crying and Ville grew frustrated and threatened to leave him in the streets if he didn‘t.

They kept walking down the dirt road and through the desolate farmland, twigs snapping underneath their feet when suddenly Ville heard a man call out his name. The voice was deep with a dry rasp. He ignored it, gripping his younger brother’s tiny hand tighter and speeding up his pace. He listened as his soft footsteps scraped against the road, crushing pebbles underneath his leather bound shoes. He heard the voice call out his name again and Ville began to walk faster, urging his brother to stop complaining and to keep up. The voice continued to hiss out his name so harshly that the hairs on the back of his neck stood. Suddenly everything went black and the smell of cheap booze and stale cologne began to flood around him, causing the confusion that he was feeling to increase ten-fold.

He was in a bar now……one that he knew all too well. He wished to himself that he was having a dream……just another dream, but everything felt real…. so real……too real and it was like he was reliving the worse day of his life as he sat on the stool---the hardness of the wood underneath his bum making it uncomfortable for him to sit. He looked around the room, surprised at finding it empty with the exception of a man sitting three stools over. The man looked strangely familiar with his dark hair thrown under a gray beanie and a black leather coat pulled closely to his body. Ville stared at him, watching the way that his strawberry lips pursed around a cigarette and when the man turned his head--fumbling in his pocket for a lighter, Ville jumped back, startled at seeing himself. He was seeing himself from a distance, a mere observer. He tried to get up and walk over--warn himself of what was about to happen, but a rough hand pressed down on his shoulder and whispered in his ear---the same voice from moments before, for him not to turn around and to watch what was about to happen.

“Ville? That’s an interesting name. You talk kind of funny, where are you from?” He watched Brian say to him.

“I’m from Finland and you talk funny too.” He saw himself reply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*“Stop! I don’t want to watch this!” He yelled as he tried to turn around, but the hands squeezed his shoulders roughly causing him to wince before ordering him to keep quiet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait, we bought you a drink……..” Brian smiled and Ville closed his eyes, feeling his stomach tighten as the pungent stench of old fish wafted around him again and once more, everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He felt fingers….cold probing fingers, but he couldn’t push them away and he screamed….he screamed…..he screamed because he knew what was about to happen. He knew how this nightmare ended and he screamed……he screamed…..he screamed and it was like no one could hear him…..he couldn‘t even hear himself, but he continued to scream as he felt the touches intensity and he could feel the sleep trying to take over his body…..he continued to scream, still he screamed even if it was silently, he screamed… and he screamed……..and he screamed, praying that someone could hear him……praying for someone to help him….praying for someone…….anyone, anything to stop the madness……..

“Ville! Ville! Wake up!” He heard a voice thick with sleep yell as his shoulders were being shaken. Ville groaned as he turned over on his side, sweat pooling at the base of his neck, right were his chin ended and he could taste something dry and bitter in his mouth.

“Bam?” He responded groggily as he looked around the room, noticing the low light of the lamp illuminating everything in faint shades of golden shadows.

“What’s wrong?” Bam asked, peering down at him. Ville shifted off the bed, standing up and stretching and not responded as he went into the bathroom and relived himself. He said nothing as he crawled back into the bed, hopping under the covers and ignoring the way the hairs on the back of his neck were standing under Bam’s scrutiny.

“Go back to sleep.” Ville whispered, knowing good and well that Bam’s ever curious nature wouldn’t comply.

“What were you dreaming about?” He asked uncharacteristically softly, settling back under the covers too. Ville could feel the heat radiate off of Bam’s body and the soft puffs the warm air from his breaths brushing in his shaggy tangle of dark curls. He could feel Bam moving over to him closer…..so close that Bam’s breath began to blow on Ville’s shoulder and his knee was pressing into the small of his back.

“Something awful…….something dreadful…..” Ville whispered as he closed his eyes, squeezing them shut and hoping he could internalize his pain once again.

“What….what happened?” Bam repeated, moving even closer, pressing his bare chest into Ville’s bare back, sticking their warm flesh together and making Ville feel safe….for the first time in a long while secure and at ease.

“God…….I-I-I can’t talk about it right now…..I just can’t.” He whispered through clenched teeth and his body shuttered as he felt a tear shamefully slip off of his beautiful, pale , alabaster face.

“You--you said that someone was hurting you……you--you--you asked them to stop…..to stop--”

“---Don’t say it, please, just don’t say it, not right now.” Ville sobbed, feeling one thousand different emotions of shame, disgust, fear and anger course through out his body as he curled up into the fetal position, hugging himself and allowing a few stray tears to escape.

“But….you said……you said that they were……” Bam continued, his voice as soft as a silver kiss and as delicate as a tender smile. He placed his hand gingerly on Ville’s side, allowing the warmth of his body to soak into his palm as he closed his eyes and fought that last stray line of fear and moved that final inch closer to Ville. He pulled him close, wrapping his arms around his nimble frame and for the first time in his life, Bam felt comfort…..utter and complete comfort and a sense that things were supposed to be the way they were, just him and just Ville with no outside distractions.

“……Bam….” Ville whispered with a caught breath.

“…Ville…..you said that they were fucking you…and you didn‘t want them to…did someone hurt you?” Bam asked, the innocence and naivety in his voice breaking Ville’s damn of hurt as he felt the tears began to stream down his face as he turned around, not sure what he was going to say. He looked into Bam’s eyes, watching the concern in them turn into anger and then into sorrow as Bam took in a deep breath and pulled him even closer if that were possible. Ville let almost a month of hurt, four weeks of the pain of solitude and self hatred he had consumed in out, as he let his tears drop softly on Bam’s shoulder and down his neck.

“I didn’t know what they were doing and I--I--I tried to push them away, but I was so tired Bam, I was so tired and I couldn’t remember and I still can’t remember and I just want to remember! I want to remember what they did, but I can‘t! I just fucking can‘t!” He sobbed, feeling his tears burn and choke his throat making it hard for him to talk. Bam’s heart was breaking, split and torn with hatred at the knowledge that someone had hurt Ville….sweet, caring and compassionate Ville…his Ville.

“It’s okay man……it’s okay……” He replied softly wishing that he could find something else to say, something articulate to sooth Ville. He wanted to make him feel better, but he’d never been good with that sort of thing and he didn’t know what he could do--he never had to console anyone before but, for Ville, just having his arms around him was enough and his emotions continued to explode.

Bam could feel Ville shaking harder in his arms like a frightened kitten and with each tremble of his body, Bam’s heart broke even more and he wanted nothing more than to find who had caused such defeat in Ville. He wanted to find them and make them pay, but the time for vengeance would have to wait. No…now…..now he had to figure out how to make Ville’s tears stop flowing, now he had to kiss the pain away………..

To Be Continued…

FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED

(c)Madison A. Dante 2005