Author's Notes: So here I am, making a second one! I didn't think that it would come out (and so quickly) but Roxas refused to let me rest until he had his say on the matter, so - here ya go!
Warning: Yaoi (obviously), non-con.
Disclaimers: Characters? Not mine. Idea? Mine, so far as I know.
A Note to Readers: If you haven't read the first, "Don't Push Me," turn back now. This is meant to be read afterward reading from Axel's POV and will lead you to think that things end that way rather than leaving it hanging as it should -smile!- Enjoy!
I think that most people who have stalkers don't believe it until it's too late.
Being a part of a band has always been a dream of mine (hell, what teenage kid hasn't thought of ripping cords on a guitar in a rock band?) that we were trying to make a reality. It was hard getting gigs and even harder holding the attention of the audience, mostly old men too drunk to see straight, let alone appreciate how hard we worked.
He was the only constant factor.
I first noticed him during our third or forth gig. Riku had gotten his older brother to pull a few strings to get us into 'XIII,' a newly established bar and even though it was a slow night, we were pumped. Not even the bland looks from the disinterested patrons threw me off; this was our night.
I was standing under a red spotlight, hair gelled up and a dark swipe of eyeliner around my eyes to bring them out (Sora's suggestion, though Riku was the one to execute). Black jeans with rips in the thighs, chained platform boots and a black and red long-sleeved zip-up top served as my clothing and, after a healthy batch of gloss to keep my lips from drying out, all was ready.
"And if you ask for tomorrow, don't you insist to have today…"
Most of the bar paid no attention to us - one guy off to the side was slumped over in a drunken stupor while others chatted with their company and other guys attempted to get numbers from the waitresses in skimpy skirts. After a while I caught eye contact with someone; a tall, lanky figure with eyes that burned even through the dim lighting and distance.
So I sang to him.
The song took over as I locked eyes with the stranger, my body moving on its own violation. He didn't seem put off by the lyrics that I was directing to him - why should he? We had never met before and the angry words weren't for him, yet they were. It felt more like I was performing for Sora or Hayner rather than using him as an outlet for my frustration.
"I - don't need your help!
Don't push me!"
I didn't realize then how one song and one seductive-eyed stranger would change my life forever.
It was a month after the club incident and we - being the band - had started gaining popularity. It seemed that our different looks along with awesome music had started to catch on. More club goers recognized us and a few even came up to ask for autographs every so often. We had come out from out latest gig and I ended up having to double back after leaving my Discman behind.
In the alley leading to the backdoor of the club, I hadn't expected anyone to be there - it was late and most people went out the front unless they were staff. One could imagine that I was more than a little surprised to see not only the shadow of a figure by the closed door, but said figure holding my Discman. "Um?…"
Looking up from the CD player (the black sticker with sketchy-written 'Nobody' printed in white visible from where I stood) I found myself looking into familiar green orbs, coming to a stop a half dozen feet from the other. The hood of his coat was back and his mass of red spikes seemed to burn a path down his back, gloved hands holding the Discman out to me. "You left this."
I hesitated. For one, it was late - the sky had gone dark hours ago and the alley was rarely used. For another, even though I'd seen this guy at nearly every show we've had, I didn't know him. After a moment I shook my head - Hayner, Riku, Wakka and Sora were waiting just around the corner and there was a club full of people just through the door. Sighing I continued forward, reaching out for my CD player. "Thanks. I've seen you at most of the shows - if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalking me."
Taking a hold of the Discman as he grinned I frowned when he didn't let go.
The hand that wasn't visible to me came up and around too quickly for me to see - first he was standing in front of me, then he was pressed flat against my back, holding a damp cloth over my mouth and nose as the hand that had been holding my CD player gripped my wrist. I gasped in reflex and realized too late the mistake in that when my vision swam, the world growing fuzzy.
Struggling in his grip I tried to get away, to kick, punch, elbow - anything. I heard the Discman fall and break faintly as my vision started to go blurry, fading…
Right before I passed out I felt my attack lean close to my ear, whispering, "Sweet dream, my Roxas."
And then it went black.
That was how the nightmare started.
Night after night - day after day? - he would come in with burning eyes and grinning lips and it's all I can do to keep from screaming and crying at once. I do, sometimes. It always ends the same way; with him comforting me.
"You'll realize it soon, Roxas," he says often, either petting me hair or pounding into me from above. "We belong together."
I hate how he tries to make this seem normal.
I hate how he rapes me tenderly, as if we're an actual couple with actual feelings for each other.
What I hate the most, though, is how he makes me like it.
I want to die.
I know that if I want to get out of this, I have to gain his trust.
Hands tied in their usual (hah, like there's anything normal about being tied and bound) place, crossed over one-another above my head on the bedpost, I can't do much but wait. This is the hardest part of it; everything's eerily quiet when he isn't around and my body seems attuned to everything, outside sounds blocked from my hearing (I must be in a basement of some kind - there's no windows that I've seen and I haven't heard as much as a car go by and screaming when he's not here doesn't bring any help). Fingers balled into fists, I lay, listening.
It's maybe an hour before I hear a door slamming close.
My breath hitches at the sound and I can feel my pulse jump several paces. After countless hours (days? Weeks? I don't even know anymore) of being held here and having him touch me day after day, fingers finding spots that make me jerk and shudder, my body knows what to expect and grows taunt, skin aching for contact. Why the hell am I so weak? I'm nearly half-hard and he hasn't even come into the room yet.
"Roxas, I'm home!"
That voice - it makes me shudder with disgust and hopeless need at once and I bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep the anticipation of what was to come at bay as well as control my rising anxiousness. I have to gain his trust.
The door swings open and he stands there for a moment, eyes like emerald fire and hair like a burning inferno behind him, stripped only of his jacket from what I can tell. He has that look in his eyes and I know there will be little, if any, of his usual talk of his day before he's touching me.
Stalking forward with a willowy swagger Axel (Axel, remember the name and try to get his last name from him-) moves over to my left side, sinking down slowly onto the mattress. "I missed you today."
I can't look at him - just thinking of what I'm about to say is making my stomach churn and if he looks at me he'll know it for a lie. "I missed you, too," I manage to get out in just above a whisper; it's been at least several hours since my last drink of water and my throat's constricted even more since his arrival. I can feel him go still beside me, though, and will myself to fight away the resentment that must be in my eyes before turning to him. "You took so long."
Axel's staring at me and shit he must now that I'm lying and I'm so scre-"You missed me?" ..Oh. He looks - he looks like he's about to break and had he not kidnapped and held me against my will, I might have thought about feeling sorry for him. As it is he's touching my face lightly with calloused fingers, brushing along my cheek and lips. "I'm sorry, I - I got held up at work."
Alright, I just have to - no! He's moving lower and the ticklish sensation of his ghosting touch against my neck and chest makes me shudder, lips opening to speak but gasping instead as they glide over a nipple. "W-where do you work?" I manage to get out and I have to look away again, feeling that mix of nausea and need curling in the pit of my stomach.
He's leaning in and I can feel his breath against my neck, my own breath hitching in turn as he lightly bites the skin. "You're talkative today," he says and shit, he suspects something - but he chuckles, a low sound that makes me dig my nails into my palms. "I like it. Usually I get more words out of a brick wall."
Swallowing hard as he gives the nipple he's been toying with a squeeze I take a breath, managing an awkward shrug. "Maybe I'm coming around," I mumble and I can feel the shit-eating grin he's got, lips having moved on to my shoulder.
"Wait a bit - I'll have you cumming around real soon," he purrs and I groan, partly an act for his sake as well as for the fingers that moved on to the sensitive skin at the dip of my hip. Fuck, I don't even have to pretend to want him - my body's doing that on its own.
I hate him for it.
It takes longer than I would have liked but eventually - finally - I get him to relax his guard. He leaves my legs unbound when he leaves, along with leaving one of those suction bottles of water within reach of my lips. "I was afraid you would try and drown yourself," he had said sheepishly when I asked why he didn't do it before and kept the 'I would have tried' to myself.
He started telling me more about himself, as well; age (24) education (studying pyrotechnics at Twilight U) family (an older brother in the mob as well as a little sister in high-school). Each piece of information he gives brings me closer to freedom. There's just one problem.
It's after a particularly messy session (he had this obsession, I came to find, with spilling himself on me rather than in) and we're catching our breath, one of Axel's arms draped over my torso. Groaning he pulls away to start to rise. "Should get you cleaned up."
Brain kicking in at the words I lick my lips, thinking quickly. "Axel? Can I - have a bath? Like with actual running water?" The only time I'm allowed out of the bed was for bathroom breaks and even then I was bound and kept under his watchful eye. "I have to go to the bathroom, as well."
Pausing from where he's sitting at the edge of the bed he looks back at me and I know he's sizing me up. I continue quickly, "It's been at least weeks since I've had something more than a damp cloth run over my skin. And actual soak would be amazing."
Holding my breath as he considers this I cross my fingers, waiting anxiously. "I guess - a bath would be alright," he says and I nearly whoop aloud. "I'll go with you."
Biting back my initial 'NO!' I shift, swallowing hard. "Could I at least have the bathroom to myself for a few minutes? To, you know.." Even though he was there to watch me do everything I could still blush about it. "There's just some things you don't want to do with an audience."
He's not buying it, I think desperately as he gives me another one of those studying looks, lips pressing together in thought. After a while he shrugs a shoulder. "Why not? You've been good, Roxy. I may even let you go around on your own."
The relief is so great I nearly pass out but I don't, laying still as he goes to get the key to the handcuffs holding me down and unlocks them. Bringing my arms down with a wince I rub my wrists with stiff fingers, letting him sit me up. "Thanks," I say before slowly getting up, legs shaky - being on your back for 23 of 24 hours does that to a person.
"Just keep it short," he says as he wraps an arm around my waist, guiding me out. Helping me into the bathroom and sitting me down he then turns to the tub, pulling the curtain back enough to turn on the water to a good temperature then plug it in. "I'll be right outside this door, so just call when you're done."
I nod and with a final look around Axel leaves, closing the door behind him.
I need to find a way to get the hell out of here!
Getting up as I really don't need to go I brace a hand against the tiled wall, looking around. The lighting is coming from a long light bulb propped above the sink, no medicine cabinet in sight. A mop sit in a red bucket beside the sink and I pick it up, putting it long ways across the bathroom in front of the door. It would give about three inches before stopping at hitting the tub- hopefully enough to buy me some time.
Time for what, though? There's nothing here! Just the stupid sink and stupid mop and damn tub! In frustration I pull the shower curtain the rest of the way back. Just more tiled wall- wait. Looking up, about three feet above my head, there's a window. A real window! It's closed and only about two feet high but that's enough!
Now getting up there-
Jumping nearly a foot in the air I hiss a curse, calling out a stuttered "Yeah?"
"Just making sure you didn't fall in."
"I'm fine," I call back quickly, moving to get the discarded mop bucket. I have a plan and damn if he's going to distract me.
Placing the bucket upside down in the tub (I have to pull the plug but let the water keep running - it will cover some of the noise I'll probably make) I step carefully on top of it, looking up at my escape. It's still nearly a foot out of my reach but I won't let that stop me so I brace myself to jump.
I didn't put enough power into it - my fingers brush the edge of the window ledge before I come back down, upsetting the bucket and hitting the hard tub with a wet thud. Pain shooting up my hip and side I ignore the second knock on the door followed by the "Roxas? What happened?" If I don't get out now he'll never give me this kind of chance again - I'll be stuck here for good.
Teeth clenched in pain I grab the bucket again, flipping it back over and rising to stand on it.
I can hear the door open and bang against the mop, the wood holding against the door. Unable to help glancing back my heart nearly stops at seeing a thin arm snake through the crack in the door, feeling for what's holding it in place. "Roxas! Open the door!"
Forcing myself to turn away I set my jaw, tensing for another jump. I know that if I don't make this one then he's going to be here and that will be the end of that. I take a breath, bend my knees and-
Grasping the edge of the sill I pull myself up enough to brace my weight onto my forearm, using it to hold me up while reaching out with the other to push open the window. It's unlocked and opens to about a foot high before stopping and I waste no time scrambling up - or trying to. My feet are wet from stepping into the tub and the tiled sides of the bathroom give me no traction whatsoever.
The sound of wood breaking pulls another curse from me and I reach with my free arm, grabbing the edge of the window. Pulling with all I have I squeeze my shoulders, chest, waist-
-And shit he's got my ankle! Kicking out madly I cling on for dear life, free leg kicking what I think is his nose hard enough to make him loosen his grip and then I'm outside, rolling through a low bush. It must be mid-afternoon because I'm on my back and the sun is burning my eyes but it's so good that I could cry.
"God damnit Roxas! Get back here!"
Jerking from where I landed I roll just out of reach of grabbing fingers, Axel's emerald-green gaze burning into my own. He had no problem reaching the window as he has more than a foot of height over me and is working on pulling himself through. "Please, Roxas! Don't make this any harder than-"
I'm already on my feet and running blindly through the brush, ignoring the sting of rocks and twigs under my feet. I can hear him yelling and cursing behind me but all I can think is Run, run, run! and my body is doing it so I ignore everything but the mad drive to get away.
It isn't long before I hear him running after me - he's freakishly thin so getting through the small window, even with his height, wouldn't have been too much of a problem - and I just keep running, legs pumping for all they're worth and knowing that if I don't find someone or reach a town or something soon he's going to be here and the nightmare will start again, Axel (loving) raping me night after night, day after day. He's two dozen feet behind me when I hear a sound that I haven't heard in what's probably been months.
A burst of speed shoots through me and I run towards the sound, heart beating franticly in my chest. I can see the road, a double-wide highway, maybe twenty feet before me and the cars driving by every five to ten seconds in either direction. My feet pound the ground one after the other, arms pumping, breath wheezing-
Tackled from behind! We go rolling, maybe ten feet from the line of trees that do a good job of blocking us from the road, me kicking and punching and cursing when I can find my breath. He's stronger than me but I use my smaller size to squirm under and around, landing a hard punch to his jaw as my knee comes up to catch him right in the groin.
"Shit!" When he pulls away to grasp himself in reflex I scramble to my feet once again, less than five feet from the line of trees. I can imagine that I make quite a sight running from the forest and onto the highway covered in mud and twigs and cum and a bit of blood but frankly I don't care as long as someone stops to help.
In the middle of the road a dark blue Volkswagen beetle with an elderly couple comes to a stop a short ways away from me and I run to them, out of breath and weak. I can faintly hear the sound of other cars stopping along with a few doors opening and closing and someone on their cell phone calling for help. "Please," is all I can manage before my vision goes blurry, grey concrete of the highway drawing suddenly close.
When I wake up the first thing that runs through my head is, No, I didn't get away - it was a dream.
Soon enough the steady sound of beeping sinks in along with the smell of disinfectant and medicine and I slowly open my eyes, afraid of what I might see. Have I died? Everything is white, too white to be normal and I just lay there for a minute, stunned. Then…
Turning my head towards a familiar voice I thought I'd never hear again I see Sora sitting beside me, normally bright blue eyes dull and red from crying. Our mom is here, too, along with Riku, Hayner and Wakka. They're all around me and I can't believe it, a hand reaching out for my brother. "Is it - is it really you, Sora?"
Both Sora and our mom burst into tears, my brother holding me tight enough to squeeze the air from my lungs and the gang whooping in a cheer. "Good to have ya back man, ya?" Wakka says as Hayner slaps a hand on my shoulders.
Despite being nearly smothered and everyone being way too loud, I grin. "Yeah," I hear myself say, arms coming out to wrap around Sora's shaking shoulders. "It's good to be back."
It's been nearly three months and they still haven't found him.
When police went to investigate the area I was picked up near they found the house I had been kept in - apparently the whole upstairs had pictures of me on nearly every surface, from it being the band to me leaving school to shopping for groceries. A professional-style camera and darkroom were present, along with much rope, soaps and bags of take-out. It's amazing he's as thin as he is with how he eats.
I gave the detectives on my case all the information I had but still with no luck. He had withdrawn from school and quit his job the same day I escaped and without his last name (or even knowing if Axel is his real first name) it's nearly impossible to track his goings about. The best thing I was able to give them was a description of what he looked like when I last saw him.
"A guy like this stands out," the sketch-artist said once I confirmed the picture, down to his smirk and the dark tattoos under his eyes. "He'll be found."
I often wake up in the middle of the night, panting and in a cold sweat. If I'm still partly asleep I sometimes see green eyes watching me from the shadows, a trail of burning red fire trailing behind them. Sometimes I wake up screaming, throat raw and Sora holding me down to keep me from hurting him or myself saying, "It's okay, it's just a dream - he can't hurt you now."
Worse than those, sometimes I wake up hard.
My dreams are haunted by laughing green eyes and flame-red hair and every waking hour I sit, waiting, thinking, He's watching me now, I can feel it. I hate how it feels not knowing, never knowing if he'll be around the corner when I reach the end of the street or if he's lurking just out of my line of sight, biding his time.
And so I sit in bed, back ridged against the headboard and hands folded tightly in my lap, waiting. I have probably been sitting for hours but it feels like days - sleeping brings him to me and staying awake brings the fear that he'll come. I sit, lids feeling heavy enough to droop but snapping awake the moment I start to doze.
Just sleep, Roxas. He's not here - he's probably skipped the country and is living in Mexico or somewhere, I tell myself as I feel myself start to doze for the hundredth time. My lids slip closed and shoulders slump, the makings of dreamland creeping into my mind when I swear I hear, "Alright, Roxas. Time to come back home."
And I don't even have the strength to scream.
Ooooo~ eerie! Now this wouldn't let me alone until I finished it and now I'm running late to work ;;;; I'll be checking back tonight (or whenever) for spelling/grammar errors but if you guys (that's right, you!) find any mistakes, point them out? I risk the wrath of my boss for you *loves?* R&R! *runs off*