Note: Thanks for all the reviews. No, he didn't rape her, but do not expect him to be soft, guys. You'll be just disapointed. And Yes, he might redeem himself by the end of the torment. But who knows, really? I don't. lol.

Christian's P.O.V.

"Red" I heard out of a distance, and it took me almost a whole minute to be dragged down to earth, down to the shivering woman in my arms as she repeated, her tight voice below a whisper "Red... red... red" the sound turning down note by note, crossing my body directly through my itching cock, desperate for her, and into my terrified mind. Her body had stopped moving and I didn't notice, only now I see how floppy her arms feel beneath mine, and I let her go with a cry of despair.

What have I done? Fuck it, Grey. You screwed up again. Did I hurt her? I try and find bruises, something to explain her sudden safe-wording, but I find nothing besides her closing eyes, the blue pearls I once admired disappearing beneath her heavy lashes. She's sobbing, and I desperately want to reach out for her, hold her once again and shake her out of her misery. But I'm frozen. I cannot move, the reality surrounding me just sinking in: she safe worded. She never did that, even in the worst of my moments, even in the worst of my punishments. I'm scared. I can almost feel her slipping through my shaky fingers, abandoning me for good this time. But instead... She slips literally against the sink, falling - or better, dismantling - to her knees before her whole body collapses in the cold floor.

"ANASTASIA!" I cry out, way louder than I'd hoped, reaching out for her the better I can in the tight bathroom. I have to get her out of here. I grab a hold of her shoulders and wrap her arms around my neck, pulling her against my body, dragging both of us outside the lavatory. I hear the steps of the approaching flight attendant, but I do not bother spending a moment at her cost. I urgently carry Ana's fainted, weak body to a first class' seat, laying her down so she has room to breath and stretch. Fuck. Fuck. What's going on? The floor beneath my feet could just as well part and let me fall across the sky and perhaps I wouldn't feel as lost as I do. As angry as I do. She was almost mine. She took it always from me once again. Or did I do? I don't know what to make out of it, I need to hear her voice, to feel her breath, I'm freaking scared!

"Sir, what's going on? Oh my God!" the flight attendant has reached us and screams in shock when she realizes Anastasia's unconscious beside me. I can read her, even through my clouded mind. She thinks I did it. She considers taking me away from what's mine, but she knows better than to try such silly move, and just to make sure, I growl at her.

"Ahn..." the sound between us startle us both, and I look down to see Anastasia moving her face in what I could only describe as deep anguish. She parts her lips and screams, wrapping herself in her arms. The ocean blue eyes of hers slightly open, but they do not reach for my gaze. They focus on the seat in front of her, opened in utterly terrifying shock. "Don't... don't..." she whispers to herself, closing the grasp around her chest as tears leap down her sweet pale face, no trace of her usual lovely blush remaining.

Ana's P.O.V.

My senses have been obscured, and all I feel is his touch around my body, hurting my flesh as he deepens his fingers in it. I cry out, asking him to stop, but he doesn't, he never does.

Something's different, though. There's no lavatory around us. I can hear a distant female voice. We're outside, again. I'm safe. I'm safe. He's not touching me. Not anymore. Not for a while now.

Will I ever be safe? I fish my mind from the sea of thoughs it's drowning in, and bring myself to the present I'm facing. My whole body feels like jelly, and thank God there's a seat beneath me, or I could fall endlessly into the air. Falling forever. No sense of solid ground at all. That would be good. Peaceful, at least.

But instead, "Ana... baby... Are you alright? You passed out, have you eaten anything today?" I hear him, and I unconsciously cringe. So I passed out? Has he... What has he... I don't know. I don't feel sore, I don't feel used at all, and the frustrated look in his eyes and the residue of what was his powerful erection tell me he didn't get his way. I feel relieved. I wanted him, so bad, when we were back in our seats. But what he's showed be in the confinement of the lavatory was something I could never erase from my memory. The monster in him, the devil willing to destroy me in his way.

"Ana, answer me!" he demands, and I snap.

"Do not Ana me, Christian! And please, please stay away from me." my voice cripples him, and he just stares down at me.

"What...? Ana... You need to eat. That's why you passed out." he tries to move toward me, but I force my hand against his hips, pulling him away from my seat.

"DO not dare! I passed out because you were about to..." my voice vanishes, for I can't even dare to say it out loud. Would he have raped me had I not fainted? How far he'd go without actually realizing how much he was hurting me?

"I wasn't... No... Ana... Baby... You safe-worded. I wasn't going to..."

"Yes, you were, Christian! For once, if you're not being honest with me, be with yourself. It even surprises me you didn't get your wicked way even then." I cry out loud, and the tears I tried to supress slide down my cheeks. Damn it. I love this man. And it breaks my heart into a millions pieces to know he'd have hurt me if he could. He will, if he can ever again.

He lets go. Eventually. I see his figure moving in the other side of the aisle, but I do not make any attempt to follow it. I want him gone. For now. We'll still have to talk through all that's happened, but one day. Not now. Not right after he almost...

I try to smooth into a fast nap, but find it rather difficult to cut off the memories of his breath, so close, so dangerous, so scary. Chills run down my spine, and I climb my seat as if the floor could suddenly swallow me. I want out. Now. But the hours pass by way too slowly, mocking me as they go by.

Christian's P.O.V.

The sight of Anastasia's eyes wide opened with pure, sheer fear struck me to my bones as she drifts back to reality after her brief meltdown - apparently thinking I'd hurt her, somehow - and I know, right there, that I must let her rest it out if I want to mend what's been torn, so I take a new seat across the plane, after I give specific instructions to the flight attendant about actually attending something and providing immediate food to miss Steele. I make it pretty clear she is to eat, no matter what, and I can sense the fear emanating from her skin. Yes. You are damn right to be scared of me, woman.

I check up on her a couple of times, finding her absorbed in thoughts I wished I could share. But I do not dare asking, knowing she could only push me further away. And right now, there's already a whole ocean of coldness between us. And fuck, I don't know why. I still don't know why.

What a creep you are, Grey.

The pilot announces we're half an hour away from landing, and I gather up my forces to stand up and join Anastasia once again. She does not move - for better or for worse, is like I'm not even here. I contemplate what to say, what to do. She's eaten, so perhaps she's already feeling better. Perhaps we can resume what we left behind.

I trace her forearm with my thumb, and she shrinks in her seat almost instantly.

"What is it, Ana...? What is going on?" I try to sound gentle, but her smell intoxicates me, the proximity between us building up the tension I feel around her, ever so slowly. She does not answer at first, and I growl, taking hold of her left shoulder.

"For Christ sake, Anastasia, talk to me or I'll make you." I command, and my action return in an angry, smouldering look from her slighly afire eyes. There's something there I didn't notice before. Something I'm simply not used to. Deception, I suppose.

"What is there to talk, Christian? We are not together, and still you treat me like I'm some kind of property. What you did... I could never forget that. And I don't want to. I want to remember how you could hurt me, so than maybe this crazy unearthly love I feel for you might just go away. I want it to go away!" her words hit me where it hurts most. Love. Again she speaks of love, as if someone like me could ever be loved. I could be adored, and I want her to adore me, but I can't deal with this foolish feelings. And yet, the mere remind of her words warms my heart - or what I suppose it should be one - in a giddily way. Oh, my Anastasia. I don't care if you love me. You can feel whatever fits you, just... Don't leave me.

"Anastasia, you can't deny what we have. Even you can't do that. Oh, you came and found me. You're mine. You know that. That's why your heart is racing and your eyes are shining.."

"I was never yours to do whatever you please, Christian. You had my heart, and you made of it exactly what you wanted. Now it's time to move one. Give up."

"Don't give up on me." I murmur, and her eyes finally meet mine. We stay like this, hooked in each other's sight, until the pilot calls us for landing procedures.