Hello.. First fic ever posted on FF hope you like and if not please don't flame.
Disclaimer: I own nothing escept the story concept.
Ch. 1 Bruised & Broken
Grif's hand shook ever so slightly as he took a drag on his cigarette, he desperately wanted to calm his nerves after his latest run in with Sarge. Things had steadily become worse with the two, their fights were no longer petty they were heated and violent; Sarge's sadistic nature uncapped when Simmons and Donut were out of the base. Grif let the cigarette hang from the edge his mouth as he gently traced his fingers around the darkening bruises on his side. Dull pain resurfaced as he did so, and a flash of Sarge's steel toed boot crashing into his ribs came with it. He hadn't been able to breath for what seemed like an eternity after the relentless assault. He had simply writhed on the ground while his commanding officer laughed jabbing him with his shotgun. Grif closed his eyes against the vision. He was glad no one was around to see him like this, bruised all over with a bloody lip and still swollen face, he was a mess. Grif had yet to clean himself up from almost a half hour ago, mainly because it was painful to move in the slightest.
A sharp knock at his door made Grif jump and sit upright on his bed, his adrenaline instantly pumping, the only other person at the base was Sarge. He quickly put the cigarette out and pulled the disheveled sheets up around him and over his head. The pain in his side was searing from the sudden movement, he gritted his teeth together trying not to make any noise as he heard the door unlock and open. Grif although frantic, tried to slow his breathing and appear to be asleep hoping the other man would just leave. Instead heavy footsteps made their way over to him stopping beside his bed. The thin sheet was moved away from his face and a callused hand made it's way across his forehead; brushing the matted hair away from his now sweaty brow. His bed gave way as the other sat next to him, and the hand trailed from his face down to his side. "Having a bad dream dirtbag?" Sarge asked, his voice sounded like he was smiling. A throaty groan escaped Grif's lips as Sarge suddenly pressed down harshly across the man's bruised ribs. Grif's eyes shot open to meet Sarge's icy blue ones, "You didn't expect me to fall for that did you, ya piece of shit? I'm not even close to done with you yet." Grif's heartbeat was pounding in his head and he felt like he was going to be sick.
"Y-Yea? Well I'm done with you, so get the h- hell away from me old man.." Grif pushed Sarge's hand away from him somewhat forcibly, but the smart-ass remark came out with no conviction. The older man snarled and stood, grabbing a fistful of Grif's hair to pull him out of the bed by. Grif hit the ground hard crying out as he did so. Without time to recover Grif found himself being dragged across the slick floor, still by his hair, he clawed at Sarge's arm and hand that held him. Letting go Sarge slammed the orange soldier into the wall head first, the room seemed to spin, black spots blurred his vision. Trying to regain his grasp on consciousness Grif felt Sarge press in-between his legs, pushing Grif into the wall with his neck at an awkward angle. "Get off!" Grif yelled in a panicked voice, struggling with everything he had to get free of Sarge. Yet with one hand Sarge grabbed Grif's wrists and slammed them against the wall pinning them there effortlessly. Grif let out a pained whimper as his breath caught in his throat, his arms and neck were flat against the wall and he strained to readjust himself feeling like his neck was going to break from all the pressure on it. His breathing was coming raggedly because of his pinched windpipe, and the stabbing pain from his undoubtedly cracked ribs was coursing through his body in agonizing waves. He felt completely helpless, dominated, and defeated, tears began to roll down his cheeks. He wondered what he had done to make Sarge want to kill him..
Sarge's free hand had made its way down to the waistband of Grif's pants, a single finger slide its way under the cloth rubbing against his lower stomach lightly. Grif's clouded eyes shot up to Sarge's face and the twisted smile scrawled across it, a whole new wave of fear came crashing over him.
I'll spare the details for the moment.
tell me if you want the squicky details =P