13. Two Weeks

Rema worries about Frey's mental state and obvious change in the last two weeks, and wonders if he'll ever go back to being who he was before.

This chapter contains aftermaths of torture, bloody imagery and mild gore, mentions of torture, physical abuse, emotional/mental abuse, and sexual abuse, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of murder, course language, heavy and depressing subjects.

-Rema-

Frey passes out half way back to my home, and I seriously consider taking him to the ER.  He's a mess of injuries, cuts, and probably broken bones from two weeks of hellish torture.  He needs help, he could die from this.

What would I tell them? I can't tell them the truth, I can't afford for them to find out what he's done... But I don't know if I can handle his injuries on my own... This is worse than anything I've ever seen.

"Don't take me to a hospital..." I hear his voice break through the half hour silence that's hung in the car, as if he heard what I was thinking.

"Frey, you're really badly hurt..."

"Please don't take me to a hospital..." He begs, his voice sounds weak and cracked. "I can't risk it... I can't..."

I sigh.  He's right.  If they did happen to link him to any murders, as soon as he was healed enough, they'd lock him away... And after what he just went through, he couldn't handle something like that. "Okay, I won't..."

I stopped at a store and picked up bandages and medical supplies then drove straight home as quick as possible.

Once inside, I got Frey into the bath and started looking him over after I wrap my bruised, most likely sprained or even broken wrist in a splint.  There's so many injuries on him it's overwhelming... I don't know where to start.  I notice nails drilled into his right leg, in a perfect line up the top of his thigh.  They're red with early signs of infection. He winces when I look at them, closing his eyes as more tears threaten to spill.

"When did he do this?" I ask.

"A couple days ago..."

That man was sick... Completely sick to inflict this kind of torture.  Drilling nails into his skin, burning his heels, removing his fingernails... He was disturbed...  It's a surprise Frey is even alive after all this.

"I have to get these out after I clean you off..." I say more to myself than him.  I start applying the soap and he hisses in pain, tensing every muscle in his body. "I'm sorry..."  The more blood I was off, the more disgusted and heartbroken I feel.  His whole body is bruised and cut and beaten, not an inch left untouched... I can't imagine the kind of pain he's in.

"Just get this over with... It f****n' hurts..."

I wash him and get him out, drying him off gently.  He still winces and makes small noises of pain no matter how gentle I am, and it hurts me to see him like this.  I sit him down on the closed toilet, grabbing the bag of supplies.  I look at the nails in his leg first, taking out a pair of tweezers out of the bag. My hands shake as I hold the close to the objects in the flesh.

I look up at him. My heart is heavy in my chest when I see his eyes are closed tight, preparing for the pain. "I'm sorry, Frey."

Tears run down my cheek as I pull the first one out and he screams in pain.  I pull out the second, then the third, his screams getting louder with each one until they break into sobs at the end of each scream.  He tries so hard to hold them back, but they rip from his lungs anyway. I still have five more, there was twelve in total.  I can't take it anymore and put the tweezers down, sobs of my own escaping from my mouth.

"Stop crying and get the f*****g things out already!" He screams at me.

"I can't... I can't do this... I'm hurting you... You're screaming in pain... I c-can't... You need a doctor, and numbing medicine." I tell him.

"I won't go to a f*****g hospital!" He hisses, his eyes narrowed in rage and pain,  "and I'll kill myself if you try to take me there! Now get the f*****g things out of me and stop dragging it on! You're not the one with f*****g nails in your leg!" His voice cracks, head dropping. "Please, just get it over with."

I bite my lip and pull out the last five, his screaming hurting my ears.  I stop the bleeding and clean them out with rubbing alcohol, then bandage them.   I clean and bandage both his hands, splinting his two broken fingers.  I then apply burn cream to the burns on his heels and bandage them as well.  By the time I'm finished, his whole body's pretty much wrapped up.

"Can you please get me some clothes?" He whispers in a blank tone, keeping his head down.

"Of course, stay here." I open the door, turning back to grab my razor from beside the sink before I leave and search for any clothes that might fit him. I come back in and set the clothes down, looking at him.

He has his arms wrapped around himself, rocking back and forth with the most haunting look in his eyes.  He doesn't even seem like the same Frey he was two weeks ago.  He looks like a shell of that person, and that person was pretty much a shell as it was.

"Do you need help?" I ask him and he nods. I help him cloth himself, then lead him into my bedroom and lie him down, pulling the blankets over him.

I sit next to him, brushing his hair out of his face. "I'm so sorry this happened to you..." I tell him in a soft voice.

"It was my own fault." He answers, those eyes more hollow than they ever were before. "I went back on my own... Thought I could finish him and I didn't... I let him get into my head and twist my mind..." He closes his eyes, "He did horrible things to me... I wanted to die..."

I stayed quiet, just petting his hair lovingly and letting him talk.

"He kept toying with me... Taunting me... Breaking me bit by bit... He was trying to make me that person again... Make me obedient again..." Tears welled up in his eyes, "He... To even get my clothes... my phone... he made me do such degrading stuff... He... I..." He broke down again, covering his face with his bandaged hands.

"I'm so sorry, Frey." What else can I say?

"I let him do it! I let him use me! I f*****g gave in!" He curses in anger and shame, "I had him! He was right there, I had the knife at his throat when I walked in! He didn't even fight me! I should have killed him then! I should have! I'm so f*****g stupid!"

"You're not, Frey... You're not..."

"You don't want me... I'm disgusting..."

My heart shatters into a million pieces, "That isn't true, Frey. I care about you so much... It doesn't make me think any less of you because of what he did... I'd never think of you as disgusting... My ex husband raped me too, he made me do things too... I let him do things to me as well... It wasn't your fault anymore than it was mine, you can't hate yourself for it."

He seems to ignore my attempt at comfort, wallowing in self-loathing. "He raped you because of me..." He sobbed, "He hurt you because of me... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have dragged you into it. I shouldn't have made me you come and get me. I shouldn't have-"

"No! Don't say that, don't ever say that!" I tell him in a strict, yet soft voice. "If you didn't call me, you would have been down there until the day he killed you. He had you chained to a wall, he wasn't going to ever let you go... Don't blame yourself for me getting hurt... I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry in the end you ended up protecting me..." I tell him, "It's over now.  He can't hurt you or anyone else again. You did it, you finished him off and freed yourself for good. You don't have to be afraid anymore or be looking over your shoulder anymore. You're your own person now. He can't ever get you again."

He just cries and cries until he falls asleep.  I stay with him for a while, then take a hot shower. 

I stand in the steaming water, looking at the bloodstains on the wall and crimson cloths on the floor. They just remind me of the horror.  I could have never in a million years been ready for something like that... It was worse than any horror movie I ever saw... I can't get the images out of my head... I can't shake the feeling.  And Frey... He's so broken.  He doesn't even seem like the person he was.  He was always lost and hurt, and a rather messed up as it was; but he had such inner strength and power.  Now he's completely shattered... He's so far gone.  

I feel a numbness cover me like a thick, black cloth.  I almost can't process it. My mind has trouble remembering everything, just bits and pieces make it through.  That horrible house. The bloody basement that smelled of rotten flesh.  That man's horrible face. His horrible words.  His hands touching me. So many horrible images. All of them bring me to tears... I feel frightened, violated, worried, and useless.  So damn useless...

I came there to save him and in the end, I was useless against that monster.  He overpowered me so quickly, no matter how hard I tried I couldn't protect Frey or even myself.  He protected me when I should have been the one protecting him, despite the fact he was so hurt...

My body aches from the attack.  My bones hurt, my pelvis throbs, my muscles ache... How... How did Frey endure that man for so many years?  I couldn't have... There is no way I could have... No wonder he's such a mess of hatred and murder.  No wonder he hates the world and wants to kill everything in sight... I don't blame him.

I snap out of my thoughts when I hear screaming, quickly getting out of the shower and throwing on clothing after I rewrap my wrist in a sloppy manner.

I find Frey twitching and writhing in the bed, still fast asleep.  He appears to be having a nightmare, struggling against his memories.  Tears run down his cheeks, and I quickly run to his side and shake him awake.

"Frey, wake up!"

He snaps awake, looking around.  The fear still potent in his eyes and the tears don't stop falling.

"It's okay." I tell him.

He closes his eyes tightly.  His lip's quivering, but he refuses to cry.  He rolls over, facing me as he pulls the covers up to his chin.  He moves into my hand as I brush his hair out of his face, his face relaxing.

"You were having a nightmare." I tell him, "You're safe now... It's over..."

"I know." He simply says.

I stroke his hair until he appears to fall back to sleep, breathing softly and deeply.  I'm getting tired, so I stand up to go to sleep on the sofa in the living room, but his bandaged hand grabs my wrist as I move away.

"Please, don't... Don't leave me alone..." he won't look at me, his eyes lowered almost in shame.

I sit back down, "I thought you were asleep... I was going to go lay down in the living room. I'm tired, that's all."

"Stay... Please, you can sleep in the bed with me. I don't mind, it is your bed after all."  He sounds almost like a innocent child, afraid of going to sleep in the dark.  It's so out of character for him.  I'm used to that empty void demeanor of blank expressions and zero emotions.  Strong and silent. I wonder if that person will ever come back...

I get into the bed, under the covers.  It surprises me even more when he curls into me, burying his face in my chest. 


-Frey-

I know I should feel different now that he's dead. I should feel better, accomplished even. But for some reason I don't feel anything.  I almost feel worse.  Yes, I killed him and ended that nightmare I called a life, but not after he kidnapped me for two weeks and tortured me enough to make me break down completely all over again and cry like a b***h.

Crying.  Oh my f**k, do I hate myself for crying.  Especially in front of Rema. I hate being seen as weak. I've always worked so hard to kill any emotions I have, show myself as strong and expressionless.  Yet, I allowed myself to cry.  Even if I had cried in private, without anyone to see, I would have been angry with myself but not as bad as when someone sees me.  That look of pity made me feel sick to my stomach.  Now she treats me like a damn child, so fragile like I'd break if she touched me... And the way she talks to me and looks at me... I can just hear the pity in her voice.  It disgusts me.

For the first two days all I did was sleep.  I was in too much pain to even try to be awake, much less get up and walk around.  Rema has me wrapped up like a goddamn mummy in bandages, she believes I have several broken ribs, and that a few of my fingers and maybe even my arm are broken.  I don't personally give a s**t.

She walks around sporting a splint wrapped in an ace bandage on her wrist, bandaid on her forehead, and a pretty nasty looking shiner on her left eye.  I know he roughed her up really good too, and that he took advantage of her, but she completely ignores her own needs and is constantly worried about me. 

She asks me if I'm all right every five minutes, constantly trying to feed me and wait on me hand and foot, changing my bandages every morning and checking every single f*****g wound I have.  Sometimes I just wish she'd leave me alone for a while and go take care of herself, but every time she leaves for more than five minutes, I end up having a panic attack or some kind of night terror.  I feel pathetic and needy.  I hate that... It isn't me at all.


"Frey, it's been four days.  I know you're not feeling well, but you should try to eat something..." Rema tells me.

I pull the blankets over my head, trying to pretend to be asleep.

"I know you're awake, Frey.  You've gotta be starving, I doubt he fed you, now please eat something." I hear her set a plate down and move around to the other side of the bed, pulling the blanket off my head.  I glare at her.

"Frey, you need to eat."

"Just leave me alone for once." I mumble, wincing as I roll over with my back towards her again.

"You haven't eaten in who knows how long! You have to eat!" She nearly demands.

"He did feed me." I tell her. "I just had to play his fucked up, sadistic games to win it."

It did take me about three times to actually win, but I did.

"What?" She asks, more in shock than a question but I answer her anyway.

"He'd torture me and if I didn't make a noise, he'd give me food."

It was always a sick pleasure of his, some sort of twisted pass time. It seemed to amuse him how far he could push me until I was at my limit and biting my lip until I bled.  Sometimes I'd win, and he'd give me food.  Other times I'd lose and he'd refuse to feed me.  And worse times, I'd win but he'd just laugh and still not feed me.

She just looks at me with those sad puppy dog eyes, "Frey..."

"It's all right, I didn't make a sound when he tortured me for hours on end, so I won. Although, it was hard to enjoy food when everything tasted like blood."

She winces noticeably. "Frey, I told you to stop telling me things like that in such a casual, blunt way." She whispered, "I really don't like thinking about that happening to you..."

"Fine, I'll just keep everything to myself then and leave as soon as I can walk." I say bitterly, mostly just to upset her as cruel as it sounds.

She lets out a frustrated breath. "That isn't what I meant! I know you have to get that stuff out, and it's fine... It's just the way you do it that upsets me... You sound so casual and say stuff so bluntly... It's... hard to hear..."

"What? Would you rather have me being a weak, shaking mess again?"

"Frey, it's fine if you cry or get angry.  In fact, it's normal after all you went through.  But you're shutting down your emotions and acting like what he did to you is nothing.  You talk about it in such a blunt way, and it hurts... It's like you're suppressing it all over again and it's only going to make you worse." She tells me, that look of pity on her face again.

"I don't want to be a b***h."

"You aren't a b***h, Frey.  It's not weak to express what you're feeling. It'd help you recover and process it.

She's getting on my nerves, making my blood boil. I wish she'd just leave me alone.

"Look, I'll get out of your hair, only if you agree to eat your food."

"Ugh... Fine..."

Author's Note

A/N: This was a rather hard chapter to write. Frey's dealing with the aftermath of what happened to him, and the guy's traumatized, so of course he's going to be very upset and broken, but I didn't want him to suddenly turn into a sobbing damsel in distress. So I tried to express his emotional hardship and trauma while trying to keep him in character. He'll be in pain, anxious, and rather clingy towards Rema, but he's still his emotionless and bitter self - just a bit more emotionally unstable now... and extremely angsty.
Leave it to sweet and kindhearted Rema to heal him. She's a such a loving and (overly) selfless person.

Read back if this is the first chapter you've stumbled upon, or you won't understand any of this.

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