Bliss

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WARNING! Non-con/results of non-con, intrusive exams, heavy angst. Yer warned!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything you're reading. All just my imagination.
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“take it with the love its given
take it with a pinch of salt
take it to the taxman
let me back let me back
i promise to be good
don't look in the mirror
at the face you don't recognize
help me call the doctor
put me inside
put me inside
put me inside
put me inside
put me inside”

-Radiohead, “Wolf at the Door”


~*~


“What’s going on?? Is he all right??”

“It’s okay, Mrs. Connor. It’s just he’s…”

Casey put his hands to his ears, wincing and breathing hard. He wanted the world to just stop; he wanted to just… breathe. This trip to the bathroom HAD to have to occur just as his mother came to visit. He didn’t want to see her face right now in hearing him yelping and crying out in pain; he didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

The muffling of voices outside dissipated. Casey let his hands drop slowly, his skin gone moist from the grip he had on his head. He straightened his back and closed his eyes. Feeling confident that this first trial was over he stood up carefully, gripping the handicap bar tight. It took a lot to stand up straight, but the doctors and nurses told him to try and move around, comfortably enough. All he felt like doing was curling up in his bed at home, both parents at work and his door locked, keeping him from the world.

Casey scowled at the small peri-bottle that sat on the sink. How utterly degrading. Still, he had no choice in the matter. It was either clean properly or risk infection; seeing as he didn’t need any more difficulties, Casey began filling the bottle with warm water, sighing shakily. This is what it came to, for now; a stupid little boy filling a stupid bottle to have to clean his fucked up body.

After he was sure he’d cleaned up sufficiently, Casey stared at the door a moment. He could hear his mother milling about, probably arranging things about the room in a needless fashion. That was her specialty; she couldn’t just sit calmly and wait, there had to be SOMETHING for her to mess around with. Casey tied his robe close to himself and opened to door, venturing back out to his room. Mrs. Connor looked from the curtains to him, trying to smile. “Hi, honey,”

He nodded to her, shuffling to his bed uneasily. His backside felt so tight, making his back rigid and tense. Mrs. Connor walked over briskly, taking his elbow. “I’m fine. Just… let me get to bed myself,” he quietly stated, not wanting to look at her.

“All right,” she murmured, letting him go. He moved one leg up carefully to the bed, sliding onto it in slow motion. He winced at the tension of his muscles as they fought with the aching pains, until he let his body relax onto the mattress. Now his mother came in handy, as she lifted the covers from the end to place over him. “There we are,” she said, patting his feet gently. “Better?”

Casey nodded, curling onto his side with heavy breaths. Mrs. Connor sat in the chair facing him, putting her hands in her lap. “Casey…” she started.

‘No… shut UP,’ Casey thought, desperate.

“Your father is in town, talking with a lawyer friend of his for advice. He called me not long ago and said that… that Zeke and Stokely had done a good thing bringing you here, and that you were very smart to get the testing done… to have the hospital… we’re very proud of you, sweetheart,”

Casey sighed. Proud? Of what? “I didn’t do a damned thing,” he said in a cold, quiet voice. “I wanted a bath. Zeke didn’t let me.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

Mrs. Connor pursed her lips together. Deciding to switch the subject, they parted to speak again. “Casey, you need to tell us who did this to you,” she said, forcing the words out fast. “We can’t take this matter to court-“

“I don’t want it to go to court.”

“Casey-“

“NO.” he now yelled, turning his head to face her completely. “No. I want to forget this ever happened. I want to go home tonight and go to bed and just… be left alone. I came here, got it taken care of- that’s enough for me. I’ll be fine,” he said; he turned his head back, crushing the side of his face into the pillow. To disappear, how lovely it’d be…

“You’re wrong,” she replied. “What was done to you- Casey, don’t you want some sort of justice?? It was WRONG that this happened! Dead wrong!”

“Y’now why it was wrong, Mom??” Casey started, a sarcastic lilt to his voice. “Because I asked for it,”

“Casey-“

“Know what I did?? Do you? No, you don’t. It’s all my fault, BELIEVE me-“

“Casey!! You… STOP- that talk, now.” Mrs. Connor stated firmly.

“I told him…” Casey said, eyes squeezing shut. Fuck. All his fault, every last moment, everything, his fault.

“You told him no, Case.”

His head shot up and looked behind him, finding Zeke in the doorway. He stayed quiet a moment, assessing the situation. “Hi Zeke,” he said in a bland voice, sinking back down into the bed.

“Fuck this ‘all my fault’ business, Case. Really,” Zeke said, walking inside. “Hello, Mrs. Connor,”

“Hello Zeke,” she returned, looking down at the floor. Casey stared at a spot on the wall as Zeke sat in the chair at the foot of the bed, putting a leg up onto his knee.

“How are ya, Case?” he casually asked.

“Fucking fan-fucking-tastic, Zeke,” Casey snarled out.

“Casey,” Mrs. Connor started, getting Zeke to hold up his hand.

“It’s all right.”

“It is, huh?” Casey said, his voice still distant and distracted. “Why aren’t you at school, huh? Won’t ‘Coach’ look down on your playing hooky like this to visit the ‘Herrington boy-slut’?”

“I really could care less what ‘Coach’ thinks, Case,”

“Hmm, sure,” Casey replied. He wasn’t paying much attention now, except to the scuff mark on the wall and his callous voice. He didn’t notice his mother taking a tissue from her purse and dabbing at her eyes. If he had, he might not have gone on. “Betcha anything the whole team knows. Bet they’re just dying to see me again. Have me at the end of a line in the locker room-“

Not able to stand any more, Mrs. Connor got up and left the room, looking flustered and shaky. Zeke barely moved, simply watching with shifty eyes at her departure. Casey smiled. “See? I fuck everything up. That’s the way it is.”

“Shut up, Case,” Zeke returned softly. Casey saw a pattern of a kite in the darkened mark as he sighed deeply, entranced.

“What the fuck was up with Stokes coming into the room and yelling ‘Gabe?’ the way she did, hmm?” Casey asked. The pause that followed his question made him finally look up, seeing Zeke blank and empty of answers. “So I take it… you knew everything. I guess I just totally spilled the fucking beans to Stokes and Stan that night, huh? Funny, I knew I had…”

“Case-“

“And then, what the FUCK do you do??” Casey said, his voice going higher than he’d expected. “Join the fucking team. That’s something, Zeke. Really, really something. Did he tell you? Hmm?”

“Who… tell me what?”

“Gabe- about the fun we had in the locker room. Did I get into heavy description with Stokes and Stan? Did I give ‘em a total recap of everything that happened?” Casey asked, his lips starting to tremble. “I don’t even fucking remember.”

“No, Casey. Gabe didn’t tell me anything,” Zeke said.

“I guess he didn’t trust you enough yet. He should know better,” Casey said. “All the… ‘brotherhood’ crap, y’now? Hanging out with your tried and true ‘buds’. He should know better.”

“I quit the team, Case,”

Casey stilled slightly, moving his eyes to look down the bed at Zeke. “Now why’d you go and do a stupid thing like that?”

“I wasn’t on the team to play football.”

“Huh?” Casey screwed up his face in confusion. “Wait, what? Did you think they were a science club? You’re a fucking genius, Zeke, but I’ll explain it to you; a football team plays football-“

“Cut the sarcasm. You’re hurting, so hurt. Tell me anything you want, I don’t fucking care,” Zeke said, sitting back. Casey shook his head.

“Yea, nothing gets by you, does it?” Casey retorted. “I don’t need to tell you ANYTHING. Like you’d fucking understand anyways.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t.” Zeke said, his foot bobbing from side to side on his knee. “But tell me anyways. Tell me anything you want.”

“What, so you can have a good laugh with your football buds over it all?”

“I told you I quit, Case,”

“Doesn’t matter!! I’m sure they’ll still invite you to their parties, especially that you’re ‘in league’ with the Connor faggot!!” Casey growled out. “But no one is EVER going to find out, unless you tell- because I’m done. After I go home this is ALL just going to GO AWAY.”

“Is that what you did with Gabe, too? Just went home and didn’t talk about it?”

“You bet your ass that’s what I did.”

“And how’d it work for ya, Case?” Zeke asked. “You wanna know what you told Stan and Stokes?”

“No. I’d much rather see it as ridiculous drunken blathering,” Casey quickly retorted. Zeke didn’t look like he was going to relent however, as he leaned with his elbows to his knees.

“You were fine for awhile. You just spent some time taking the piss out of Delilah, getting drunk off of cheap wine. And then you started crying.”

“Shut up.”

“They can tell you better, but they told me enough. It took ‘em awhile to distinguish words out of mumbles, but when they did they were pretty fucked up,” Zeke went on, ignoring Casey’s protests. “They couldn’t believe what they were hearing.”

“Yea? Oh yea? How is it so fucking surprising??” Casey spat out. “Gabe wanted to just get his jollies, and why NOT me? Maybe his girlfriend at the time was a prude and he needed to get off-“

“That’s not what it was about and you fucking know it.” Zeke interjected. “He was power tripping, probably just getting tired of beating your face in. Tired of you not giving in, or just not caring. What’s a punch to the face if you’re not crying afterwards? He wanted you to cry, Casey. He didn’t want you. He wanted the image of himself as a ‘big man’. That was all.”

“Juuust like Will!!” Casey drawled out. “He didn’t want me either!! Isn’t it funny, all these people, these GUYS, wanting to fuck me through lockers and mattresses and not ANY of them want me??”

“Why should that matter to you?? What would it have been worth, them wanting you in any way?”

“BECAUSE!!” Casey said, jerking upwards. His lower half screamed with pain over it, but for now he didn’t care- he almost wanted it. “At fucking LEAST if they liked me, wanted me, ANYTHING, I wouldn’t have been just some random hole!!”

“So you wanted GABE to want you?? How fucked up is that?”

Casey was beyond rational thought. He shook his head, smiling wickedly. “Oh Zeke, you’ll just never fucking get it. I may as well just get better, quit school and become some rent boy because NOBODY wants some stupid little boy as a ‘lover’. They want a quick fuck and that’s it, that’s it, from me. I’d make a good one too. You should’ve seen Will’s face when I went to take off my robe… right in the fucking open front doorway, too. Yea. That’s what I did, Zeke,” Casey said, his voice gone low and menacing. He could see Zeke’s jaw tense, his eyes staring holes into Casey. Casey nodded slowly. “I begged him to fuck me. Told him to. So there we go; I deserved what I got. Every last bit of it.”

“Then why were you screaming for him to stop, Case?” Zeke asked. Casey blinked and shrugged.

“Took on more than I could chew. Stupid little boy- that’s me.”

“So, Will had the right to rape you bloody? Stick you in this place?” Zeke said in a tense voice. “Don’t you fucking tell me it WASN’T rape, Casey. Don’t you goddamned dare, because that’s EXACTLY what it was.”

“Believe whatever you want, Zeke. The fact of the matter is… well, what the fuck are you doing here? Go back to school, get yourself back on the team and live your fucking life. God, at least Stan had the dignity to jump THAT ship, even before Marybeth came around. You’re supposed to be the smart guy; dunno why you’d stoop to such a level like fucking football.”

“You don’t know shit about me, Casey,” Zeke said, an amused smile now on his lips. “Look, I’m going to get something to eat. Do you want anything?”

“Don’t do me any fucking favors. Don’t make me owe you more than what I do for yesterday. One blow-job will suffice; I don’t feel like giving you two,”

“Yea, Casey Connor. That’s exactly what I want from you. Best be on your fucking knees when I get back.” Zeke said gruffly, now leaving the room. Casey listened to his boots clomp all the way down the hall as he lay back down, wishing that everyone would go the fuck home and leave him alone.


~*~


The small knock on the open door made Casey look up from his untouched lunch. He found Miranda in the doorway, still holding her manila folder and wearing the same small smile. “Hi, Casey. Can I come in?” she asked. Giving her a shrug as an answer she walked inside, going over to the chair his mother had just left a few moments ago. As she put her purse down on the window sill, she sighed at the sight of his tray. “You really should eat something, hon,” she said, nodding to it. Casey narrowed his eyes as he pushed the rolling tray away, folding his arms.

“I’m not hungry.” He told her in a soft voice. She nodded.

“Well, you’ll eat soon I hope. You’ve got to get some nutrition in you to help your body heal,”

“Whatever."

“Anyways… I was hoping we could talk some more,” she said, rifling through her folder. She pulled out a few pamphlets and tapped them on her hand. “I work mainly with patients who have been through traumatic experiences. Sometimes things get really complicated, and in your case I feel you’re going to need help. Believe it or not, I’ve dealt with a lot of cases that are a lot like yours.”

Casey didn’t answer; he looked over at the papers she was extending to him. Groaning, he sat up slightly to take them. There were two pamphlets: they were titled “Rape: It’s Not About Sex” and “Finding Help”. He stared at them, taking a long breath. “I don’t need all of this,” he said, putting them on his tray table.

“You don’t have to read them now. I’m just giving them to you to take home,” she told him. She flipped through her folder and sighed. “You’ll be glad to know that your friend, Ezekiel, is under no suspicion. We had him tested, and the results were pretty clear that he wasn’t involved-“

“Just as I told you,” Casey interrupted, moving with grunts as he tried repositioning himself on his air pillow.

“Well Casey… it was something we had to do. Most people brought in here- whether it’s domestic abuse or rape- are brought in by the attackers themselves. Seeing as Ezekiel had marks on him like he’d been in a struggle, we had to give him a test. Plus, you’ve given us no names to work with.” She softly said. She leaned forward, putting her pen down and getting her chair closer to the bed. “I’m here to help you, Casey. What happened to you was wrong. In most cases, a young man who’s been through this sort of thing is less likely to find treatment. Women have many support groups nowadays, and more victims are willing to speak out against their attackers. Young men are very, very different. I can’t tell you I know how you feel, because that’s impossible. What I CAN tell you is that I’ve worked with a good many young men, just like you. I won’t lie to you, Casey. This is an ugly, rotten deal you got, and it isn’t just going to ‘go away’ when you leave here. It isn’t ever going to go away.”

Casey shifted again, getting angry at the uncomfortable aches and pains he felt. “I can make it go away. I’ve done it bef-“ he stopped dead. Every muscle and nerve inside of him stilled; he refused to look towards Miranda, as she was probably getting ready to jot more information down in his chart.

“Has this happened before, Casey?” she asked.

“It doesn’t matter. I forgot it then, I’ll forget it now,” he rushed out with, trying to simply focus on a loose thread in his blanket.

“Casey, I must tell you… since you’re in your parents care, and by our laws you’re still a minor… they’re taking charge on many levels. I’ve talked with both of them today. Your father is working on getting a case together, once you provide them with the information they need to further it,”

“Which is a waste of time, seeing as I’m not saying one fucking word,” Casey said through gritted teeth.

“Well, I’m not one to tell you what to do. But I can ADVISE you. And what I’m suggesting to you is that you work through this in the best way possible. Even if you manage to keep this out of the courts and convince your parents not to further this, you need to get something done.”

“What do you care?” Casey spat out, now looking to her with a murderous glare. “You ever been to my school?? Ever seen the shit that goes on there? If you have, I’m surprised you don’t know me. Casey Connor, school punching bag supreme. Now I’m more than that. If I ever walk into the halls again, people will be expecting me to hang out in the bathroom stalls, giving blow jobs for a buck a pop. That’s how it is there.”

“I’ve already talked to your student counselor there, Casey. He told me everything that’s been going on.”

“Good for you.”

“And you won’t be going back to that school.”

Casey’s face softened into a mixed expression; shock, awe, and confusion filled him as he shook his head. “What?” he barely whispered.

“You have a few options,” she said, dragging out more papers. “You can either take private classes at home with a home-school teacher. Or we can switch your schools, if you like. Either way, your parents have made it clear that they don’t want you there anymore.”

Casey lay back, frustrated and confused still. On one hand he was relieved; he’d been counting the days to the end of high school since day one. But then again, it was so close to the end of senior year; he’d been starting to see himself as a veteran, and surviving all the bad things that had happened during his school life. Giving that up… it felt like defeat. Miranda looked up from her folder, closing it. She put it on the sill next to her purse and crossed her arms. “Why don’t you just talk to me, Casey? Just talk. No pressure.”

“About what.” He blankly replied.

“Well, let’s start with how you feel. How do you feel, right now?”

He had to scoff a laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t fucking know how I feel. You tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Well then, this is a huge waste of time, isn’t it?”

“Are you angry?”

“What do you care if I am?” he asked, trembling fingers being shoved under his arms. She went to speak, but was suddenly halted by a crash coming from outside in the halls. Both she and Casey peered towards the doorway as voices began yelling.

“What the FUCK are you doing here?!”

“Sir, calm down, or we’ll have to call security-“

“NO, you get this fucking piece of shit OUT of here!!”

It was Zeke. Casey didn’t even realize he was still here; what was going on?? “Wait here, Casey; I’ll be right back,” Miranda said, getting up and going over to the door.

“SIR, let GO of him…”

The sounds of a struggle sounded off; many scuffing shoes on the tiled floor, shouts and random cursing- Casey edged towards the side of the bed, wincing at the sharp pangs going up his spine. He didn’t care right now, wanting to know first hand on why Zeke had suddenly burst in the hospital.

“It’s FINE, lemmee GO,” Zeke was saying now.

“What’s going on here??” Miranda was saying, just as Casey got to the opened doorway. He looked out and gasped.
Zeke was being restrained by two large men who looked to be hospital staff; as Miranda made her way to one of the nurses standing nearby, Casey’s jaw dropped; just by the elevator doors stood Will, also being held by one man. He could see that Will’s face looked battered; oh God, he’d never asked Zeke what happened with him…

“Get him OUT of here!!” Zeke yelled, pulling away from the two men. They went to grab him again, until they saw him make a slight retreat. They kept their eyes on him however, standing between Zeke and Will, making sure no distance was closed further.

“Excuse me, who are you?” Miranda asked of Will now, crossing her arms. Casey watched, his lips shaking and hands grabbing the doorjamb as Will struggled to speak.

“Never… never mind,” he stammered, going to the elevator doors. He went to press the down button furiously. Miranda looked from Will to Zeke… then back at Casey’s room. She stared back at him a moment before turning to Zeke and taking him by the arm.

Casey felt like he was melting right then and there; he would have preferred to at this point, feeling nauseous and weak. His knees were in danger of giving way as he stumbled back, seeing Miranda coming towards the room with Zeke in tow. Backing up into the bathroom, Casey slammed its door shut. He closed he eyes and tried to swallow back the pit in his stomach, but nothing helped. He sank to his knees and crawled to the toilet. The combination of seeing Will, the pain he felt, and hearing Miranda knocking on the door was enough to make him vomit.

It was quiet for a few moments afterwards; the knocking and retching stopped, leaving him only with the fan humming and whirring above him. He put his arms over the toilet seat and attempted to stand. He bit back a cry, coming out only as a high pitched whimper at the sudden, back breaking pain that followed. Even breathing through it was difficult, as he slumped back down. This humiliation was going too far. He couldn’t even get his head up from a toilet now?

He didn’t care suddenly. It didn’t matter who was around; they all knew anyways. Zeke most of all; the young man Casey hated most, who just happened to grab him up and save him from that bloody torture. Who carried him into the car, into the hospital; let Casey rest on his lap. He wondered if he’d left bloodstains on Zeke during all this…

That’s when he couldn’t hold back a choke, forming from a tight ball in his throat. It escaped in a loud sob, which turned into a series of keening wails. Footsteps came to the door now, and another knock sounded. “Case?” Zeke called softly. “Need help?”

More than anyone knew… “Yes,” Casey managed to choke out. He closed his eyes as the door opened. Without pause, Zeke’s hands went underneath Casey’s arms and moved slowly to lift him. Casey let his muscles relax, allowing Zeke to take his weight without any further tension in his own body.

Zeke got him to his feet; he turned Casey by the shoulders and looked in his eyes. Sighing, he managed a weak smile. “Christ, Casey. Eat something.”

Casey couldn’t control the giggles, wrapped in his tears as he looked back at Zeke. Wiping his eyes with his wrist, he let the chuckling slide off of him and began to just… cry. Nothing heart wrenching or skin tightening, dramatic or depressive. He just cried quietly and let Zeke wrap his arms around him; let him be held close to Zeke’s warm chest. “Wish… you had some fucking scat right now,” Casey mumbled out, making Zeke bellow a laugh.

“I do, actually. Ain’t giving you any, though,”

Casey nodded.


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TBC!