Can You Hear Me Scream (4)
Title: Can You Hear Me Scream
Author: knoxvilleblue.
Pairing: Vam
Rating: R
Summary: No one believes you when you're crazy.
Disclaimer: Cussing, Sex, Violence
Warnings: Might offend some
Authors Notes: Not meant to offend anyone with these real life issues. Not real, and creative_exile is the worlds best beta. The end.
Ville's Point Of View
The walk back to the room seemed to take forever; I couldn't stand it. I had so many questions for Bam-obviously he knew Clark was the way he was, and yet. . . . .he didn't warn me?
By the time we did finally reach the room I was shaking with anger and confusion but most of all, with fear. What kind of place was this, where even the people who were supposed to help you were evil and unworthy of trust?
I walked into the room and went straight to bed, pulling the covers up to my neck. I had changed my mind; I didn't want to talk to Bam-I was far too upset. But now it seemed it was Bam's turn to be the determined psychoanalyst.
"How'd it go?" he asked as he jumped on my bed, sitting cross legged at the foot of it. I groaned and pulled the covers over my head. I didn't even want to look at him. “Ville? Hey, I asked you a question."
He yanked the covers off me and jumped off the bed with them. "He's great, isn't he? Bet he helped you out a lot. He does with me."
Bam then threw the blankets back on the bed and went on to his own. I sat up, annoyed now, and stared at him in disbelief.
"Helped? Bam, how can you say that man helps anyone-especially you?" I asked, not caring that he had just messed up my perfectly well-made bed.
"Hey! Watch it, he's a good guy. It may take him a while but he can help anyone. Even you."
Bam seemed to hold this man in high regard, but how could he? If what I saw and heard was true, Bam should be terrified-not adoring-of him.
"Bam, the man is probably the single reason you are still locked in this hell! Are you blind? Forgetful? Stupid? How the hell can you not hate this man for what he's done? Better yet, how the hell could you not warn me?! I thought we were friends! I thought, like, you could trust me and I could trust you! But instead you sat there quietly while I walked into the den of a sick, perverted psycho!"
I was yelling louder than I usually did but I couldn't help it. This whole situation was crazy.
Bam's eyes were cold, like I'd just insulted his own mother. He stood from his bed and stepped towards me.
"Don't you ever-and I do mean EVER-call him that! He is the one and only person who has ever cared about me!"
I laughed a little as I stood as well; I didn't want to be outdone. "Oh right, so making you fear duct tape and fucking you is caring? I've been doing it all wrong, then!"
Bam stepped back; his face showing confusion. "You think Clark did that to me? But he didn't. . .I mean, he couldn't have. . .you're insane, Ville!"
Bam turned from me. I could tell he was confused.
"What are your sessions like with him? I want to know everything!" I said, lowering my voice a bit. It seemed that Bam knew nothing of who was harming him.
Bam hesitated a lot before turning to face me again. "Well, once every other week I go to his office, we talk, and then I leave," he said, wrapping his arms around himself.
"What happens after that?" I had to figure this whole messed up situation out.
Bam went quiet. His eyes stayed fixed to the floor. "Doesn't matter."
"Bam, yes it does! Tell me!" Once again my tone was rising.
"The guard takes me out the door, gives me a blindfold, and we go to another room."
Now we were getting somewhere.
"So you have never seen this person who's done all these things to you?" I asked, expecting an obvious answer.
"No."
"But you said he speaks to you. Haven't you recognized the voice?"
Bam looked up at me, his eyes no longer confused but scared and sad. He started crying, a sight I couldn't stand.
"I didn't want to think it was him, Ville. I told you, he's the only one who ever cared about me."
"Not anymore."
I really couldn't tell what came over me, or made me do what I did at that moment. But I was glad for it as I once again broke the rule of space between us and pulled him in. Only it wasn’t for a hug like the last time-this time it was better, more satisfying. This time it was a kiss.
Bam hesitated, not sure if he should push me away and run, or give in and enjoy. Thankfully he made the safer choice for the both of us and put more effort into the kiss.
Once we both finally decided to let up I sighed. "Sorry, I probably shouldn't have done that."
That was a lie. I wasn't sorry-I was proud of myself for taking charge.
Bam smiled. “No, I'm happy you did."
This was going to make living in this hell a lot better.
We waited a while, me for my heart rate to return to normal, and Bam for the courage to continue the conversation. Then finally he did.
"Ville, Clark didn't. . .like. . .well, he didn't hurt you, did he? I mean. . .how'd you find out?"
I'd expected that question. "He kinda came on to me a bit, at least I think that's what it was." A small shiver came over me.
Bam looked over at my now unmade bed. "Sorry about that," he said, smiling. I had to smile too; it was cute.
"No worries-not like I can't remake it," I said, turning to do so. Bam helped a bit, and it helped take our minds of the situation at hand.
Once we had the blankets back on my bed, I decided to be the one to ruin it this time. I crawled into it and relaxed, sighing a little. I was a bit shocked, though, when I was joined by Bam. I guess the whole 'no touching' rule was dead and buried now. He laid his head on my chest and sighed contently.
I chuckled a little. It was funny how feelings could change so fast. I played with his greasy curls as he spoke again on the grim subject.
"Ville, if Clark really is doing this. . .what do we do? I. . .I don't want to go back there with him."
He was opening up much more now, but in a way I wished that he wouldn't. It made me feel helpless, because as a patient myself I really didn't have much control over what they did with Bam. Not to mention we couldn't tell-who’d believe us? Plus, I didn't want to take the chance of losing Bam, as Clark had threatened.
"We'll think of something Bam, I promise."
I didn't feel comfortable promising him something like protection when I knew good and well I probably couldn't come through, though I'd fight to the death to try. So I gave him the next best promise-the promise to think, to dwell on the horrid subject until the time came when I truly could save him.
After that Bam and I fell asleep quickly, though I'm not sure how. When I woke up the next morning he wasn't there; it was just me. I jumped up, looking quickly around the small room. Where could he have gone?
"Bam?" I yelled, running to the door, looking out the small window and seeing nothing but the wall on the other side. I sighed, walked back to my bed, and pondered where he might have been taken. Then the door opened, and in walked an old friend.
I turned quickly to see him, my heart pounding loudly in my chest. "What. . .what are you doing here?" I asked, backing away from him and landing on the bed. I stood back up quickly, though-he didn’t need the advantage.
"Ville, you don't look happy to see me.” His voice was cold, dark. As usual.
"I'm not! Get the hell out of here!" I yelled, trying to sum up courage.
"What? Now that you have Bam I'm second rate?" He was coming closer.
"How do you know about Bam?" I asked through a now shaky voice. "Where is he?"
"Bam's fine, Ville; forget him. It's just you and me now," he said as he caressed my cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry I had to leave you, Vil, but don't worry. It won't happen again."
His voice, his face, his entire being was getting closer to me. My body began to shake as my cries for help stayed trapped in my head. Then I heard footsteps down the hall, and he stopped coming closer. He smirked.
"Gotta go. But fear not, my dearest. I'll return."
And with that he left the room.
I fell to my bed, a shaking mess, and in walked Bam. He noticed me quickly and ran over to my side.
"Ville, what's wrong? I didn't scare you by leaving, did I? Ville, I'm sorry, I just had to take a shower before the rest of the guys woke up."
He was smiling, trying to make a joke of his disappearance, even though it was a sad truth he told.
"He was here, Bam-didn’t you see him leave when you came in? He was here!"
I was getting hysterical, and Bam's confused expression wasn't helping.
"Ville, no one was in the hall but me. Ville, no one was in here.” Bam's voice sounded sad, sympathetic.
"No! Bam, he was here! I heard him, felt him-I wasn't dreaming!"
"Ville, I never said you were. You. . .well, you don't have to be asleep to see things."
My eyes widened. Was he calling me crazy?
Author: knoxvilleblue.
Pairing: Vam
Rating: R
Summary: No one believes you when you're crazy.
Disclaimer: Cussing, Sex, Violence
Warnings: Might offend some
Authors Notes: Not meant to offend anyone with these real life issues. Not real, and creative_exile is the worlds best beta. The end.
Ville's Point Of View
The walk back to the room seemed to take forever; I couldn't stand it. I had so many questions for Bam-obviously he knew Clark was the way he was, and yet. . . . .he didn't warn me?
By the time we did finally reach the room I was shaking with anger and confusion but most of all, with fear. What kind of place was this, where even the people who were supposed to help you were evil and unworthy of trust?
I walked into the room and went straight to bed, pulling the covers up to my neck. I had changed my mind; I didn't want to talk to Bam-I was far too upset. But now it seemed it was Bam's turn to be the determined psychoanalyst.
"How'd it go?" he asked as he jumped on my bed, sitting cross legged at the foot of it. I groaned and pulled the covers over my head. I didn't even want to look at him. “Ville? Hey, I asked you a question."
He yanked the covers off me and jumped off the bed with them. "He's great, isn't he? Bet he helped you out a lot. He does with me."
Bam then threw the blankets back on the bed and went on to his own. I sat up, annoyed now, and stared at him in disbelief.
"Helped? Bam, how can you say that man helps anyone-especially you?" I asked, not caring that he had just messed up my perfectly well-made bed.
"Hey! Watch it, he's a good guy. It may take him a while but he can help anyone. Even you."
Bam seemed to hold this man in high regard, but how could he? If what I saw and heard was true, Bam should be terrified-not adoring-of him.
"Bam, the man is probably the single reason you are still locked in this hell! Are you blind? Forgetful? Stupid? How the hell can you not hate this man for what he's done? Better yet, how the hell could you not warn me?! I thought we were friends! I thought, like, you could trust me and I could trust you! But instead you sat there quietly while I walked into the den of a sick, perverted psycho!"
I was yelling louder than I usually did but I couldn't help it. This whole situation was crazy.
Bam's eyes were cold, like I'd just insulted his own mother. He stood from his bed and stepped towards me.
"Don't you ever-and I do mean EVER-call him that! He is the one and only person who has ever cared about me!"
I laughed a little as I stood as well; I didn't want to be outdone. "Oh right, so making you fear duct tape and fucking you is caring? I've been doing it all wrong, then!"
Bam stepped back; his face showing confusion. "You think Clark did that to me? But he didn't. . .I mean, he couldn't have. . .you're insane, Ville!"
Bam turned from me. I could tell he was confused.
"What are your sessions like with him? I want to know everything!" I said, lowering my voice a bit. It seemed that Bam knew nothing of who was harming him.
Bam hesitated a lot before turning to face me again. "Well, once every other week I go to his office, we talk, and then I leave," he said, wrapping his arms around himself.
"What happens after that?" I had to figure this whole messed up situation out.
Bam went quiet. His eyes stayed fixed to the floor. "Doesn't matter."
"Bam, yes it does! Tell me!" Once again my tone was rising.
"The guard takes me out the door, gives me a blindfold, and we go to another room."
Now we were getting somewhere.
"So you have never seen this person who's done all these things to you?" I asked, expecting an obvious answer.
"No."
"But you said he speaks to you. Haven't you recognized the voice?"
Bam looked up at me, his eyes no longer confused but scared and sad. He started crying, a sight I couldn't stand.
"I didn't want to think it was him, Ville. I told you, he's the only one who ever cared about me."
"Not anymore."
I really couldn't tell what came over me, or made me do what I did at that moment. But I was glad for it as I once again broke the rule of space between us and pulled him in. Only it wasn’t for a hug like the last time-this time it was better, more satisfying. This time it was a kiss.
Bam hesitated, not sure if he should push me away and run, or give in and enjoy. Thankfully he made the safer choice for the both of us and put more effort into the kiss.
Once we both finally decided to let up I sighed. "Sorry, I probably shouldn't have done that."
That was a lie. I wasn't sorry-I was proud of myself for taking charge.
Bam smiled. “No, I'm happy you did."
This was going to make living in this hell a lot better.
We waited a while, me for my heart rate to return to normal, and Bam for the courage to continue the conversation. Then finally he did.
"Ville, Clark didn't. . .like. . .well, he didn't hurt you, did he? I mean. . .how'd you find out?"
I'd expected that question. "He kinda came on to me a bit, at least I think that's what it was." A small shiver came over me.
Bam looked over at my now unmade bed. "Sorry about that," he said, smiling. I had to smile too; it was cute.
"No worries-not like I can't remake it," I said, turning to do so. Bam helped a bit, and it helped take our minds of the situation at hand.
Once we had the blankets back on my bed, I decided to be the one to ruin it this time. I crawled into it and relaxed, sighing a little. I was a bit shocked, though, when I was joined by Bam. I guess the whole 'no touching' rule was dead and buried now. He laid his head on my chest and sighed contently.
I chuckled a little. It was funny how feelings could change so fast. I played with his greasy curls as he spoke again on the grim subject.
"Ville, if Clark really is doing this. . .what do we do? I. . .I don't want to go back there with him."
He was opening up much more now, but in a way I wished that he wouldn't. It made me feel helpless, because as a patient myself I really didn't have much control over what they did with Bam. Not to mention we couldn't tell-who’d believe us? Plus, I didn't want to take the chance of losing Bam, as Clark had threatened.
"We'll think of something Bam, I promise."
I didn't feel comfortable promising him something like protection when I knew good and well I probably couldn't come through, though I'd fight to the death to try. So I gave him the next best promise-the promise to think, to dwell on the horrid subject until the time came when I truly could save him.
After that Bam and I fell asleep quickly, though I'm not sure how. When I woke up the next morning he wasn't there; it was just me. I jumped up, looking quickly around the small room. Where could he have gone?
"Bam?" I yelled, running to the door, looking out the small window and seeing nothing but the wall on the other side. I sighed, walked back to my bed, and pondered where he might have been taken. Then the door opened, and in walked an old friend.
I turned quickly to see him, my heart pounding loudly in my chest. "What. . .what are you doing here?" I asked, backing away from him and landing on the bed. I stood back up quickly, though-he didn’t need the advantage.
"Ville, you don't look happy to see me.” His voice was cold, dark. As usual.
"I'm not! Get the hell out of here!" I yelled, trying to sum up courage.
"What? Now that you have Bam I'm second rate?" He was coming closer.
"How do you know about Bam?" I asked through a now shaky voice. "Where is he?"
"Bam's fine, Ville; forget him. It's just you and me now," he said as he caressed my cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry I had to leave you, Vil, but don't worry. It won't happen again."
His voice, his face, his entire being was getting closer to me. My body began to shake as my cries for help stayed trapped in my head. Then I heard footsteps down the hall, and he stopped coming closer. He smirked.
"Gotta go. But fear not, my dearest. I'll return."
And with that he left the room.
I fell to my bed, a shaking mess, and in walked Bam. He noticed me quickly and ran over to my side.
"Ville, what's wrong? I didn't scare you by leaving, did I? Ville, I'm sorry, I just had to take a shower before the rest of the guys woke up."
He was smiling, trying to make a joke of his disappearance, even though it was a sad truth he told.
"He was here, Bam-didn’t you see him leave when you came in? He was here!"
I was getting hysterical, and Bam's confused expression wasn't helping.
"Ville, no one was in the hall but me. Ville, no one was in here.” Bam's voice sounded sad, sympathetic.
"No! Bam, he was here! I heard him, felt him-I wasn't dreaming!"
"Ville, I never said you were. You. . .well, you don't have to be asleep to see things."
My eyes widened. Was he calling me crazy?