Alone

Disclaimer: - I don’t own any of the characters of The Mummy, I’m just borrowing them to play with.

Author’s Notes: - This fic is still dedicated to Sheri, although I’m sure she didn’t realize she was going to have to be quite as patient as she has been waiting for each new chapter. Tardiness on my part for which I can only apologize.

Alone Chapter 7.

The water had gone cold long ago, but Jonathan didn’t notice. He sat in the bath tub, his knees drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them, staring, unblinking into the distance, not really seeing anything around him. The only sound was the drip, drip of water from the leaky hot water tap. The only movement, the slight shivering of Jonathan’s body, a combination of the cold water, and the shock his mind and body had suffered.

It was the sound of the muezzin’s calling the faithful to prayer from their lofty minarets, as it echoed over the Cairo rooftops, which finally dragged Jonathan reluctantly back to reality. Realizing he was cold Jonathan glanced down at himself, seeing the goose flesh that covered his body. He also saw the bruises and scratches marking his skin, flashbacks of how he’d received them forcing their way into his mind. He bit down on his lower lip to keep the sobs that threatened to overwhelm him inside.

Looking down at the pink hued water Jonathan felt his stomach roll in disgust, and he desperately needed to move, to get out of the blood tainted water. He gripped the sides of the bath, and slowly heaved himself up and out, wincing and hissing at the pain the movement caused throughout his abused body. He stood a little unsteadily as he pulled the plug, and let the bloody water drain away. For a moment Jonathan wished he could become one with the water and let himself be carried away into oblivion, just disappear and cease to exist. Small pools of water collected around his feet as he stood on the cool tiled floor of his bathroom watching the rapidly disappearing water. Tearing away his gaze Jonathan reached for a towel to wrap himself in.

Jonathan shuffled slowly into his bedroom, glad that the shutters were closed over the windows, and the room was muted by shadow. He was exhausted, more tired than he could ever remember being before. He felt on the verge of collapse, and then quickly acknowledged the fact that that was exactly what was about to happen. His mind and body were about to shut down, unable to take anything more. So reaching out a shaking hand Jonathan pulled back his blankets, and climbed in between the cool, clean, crisp sheets of his bed. The throbbing waves of pain that came from his tortured back meant he had to lie on his side, and as he did so he slowly brought his knees up to his chest, and tried to make himself as small as possible. He pulled the blankets up around his ears, and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying, and failing, to stop the tears that welled up in them from falling. Barely suppressed sobs racked his body, and Jonathan wished he could forget, but even as he prayed for amnesia unwanted memories crowded into his mind.

*

As soon as he’d finally managed to stop the dry heaves that had followed his nausea Jonathan had heard Holden’s mocking voice laughing at his suffering,

"It’s a good thing I’m such a reasonable chap Jonny, or that ungrateful display might have annoyed me, and then where would you be, hmm…I’d have to punish you again."

Jonathan hadn’t been able to stop the whimper from escaping from his throat, as terror coursed through his body, at the thought of Holden inflicting any more pain or humiliation on him. For a second he’d hated himself for showing his weakness to Holden, knowing only too well how much the other man would enjoy seeing his fear, but he couldn’t help himself.

Holden had just laughed at him again, and then turn to Hanif and barked out some orders in Arabic, which Jonathan’s confused, pain-filled mind couldn’t focus enough to understand. However, he saw Holden’s servant approaching him, and the raw memory of the big Egyptian’s hands on his body, of his grunting moans as he’d raped him, were enough to make Jonathan flinch, and try to drag himself backwards away from him. In a couple of strides though Hanif was upon him, and his large hands reached down and grabbed him by the shoulders, hauling him up to his feet, and he was grinning in Jonathan’s face. Jonathan closed his eyes and turned his face away, the man’s fetid breath warm against his skin threatening to start another round of sickness in him. Not sure what to expect next Jonathan had been surprised, but also flooded with relief, to feel his underwear and trousers being pulled back up. Then Hanif spun him around, and held him in place with a strong, bruising grip on his shoulders. Jonathan’s eyes were still squeezed shut, but a hard slap to his face, that made his ears ring with it’s force, snapped his eyes open again, and he found himself face to face with James Holden. He tried to pull away from his tormentor, but the solid presence of Hanif’s large body behind him prevented any escape, and besides the thought of being pressed up against the Egyptian’s body revolted him. So despite his body’s need to distance himself from Holden he was forced to stand his ground. However, he found himself unable to meet Holden’s eye and he was staring down at the dirt floor of the tiny room. Of course that hadn’t been good enough for Holden, and he’d reached out and grasped Jonathan’s chin, pulling his head up so that he’d had no choice but to look into Holden’s face.

"Ah that’s better, no need to sulk Jonny…you got what you deserved. Maybe next time you’ll think before you cheat someone hmmm?" Holden said to him. Then he leaned in even closer, and Jonathan felt his warm breath caress his cheek as he continued, "It was as good as I knew it would be…you don’t know how often I’d dreamed of sharing all that with you Jonny. You belong to me now, and I’ll see you again soon so we can share some more good times together."

Jonathan’s eyes had widened in horror at Holden’s words, the implication of what he’d just been told causing a surge of pure terror to go through him. Shaking his head he gasped,

"No…God no…"

Interrupting him, pulling his head back so that he could smirk into Jonathan’s face, Holden told him,

"Oh yes Jonny…now I’ve had a taste of your delicious body I can see I’m going to become addicted. Of course I could always see what your little sister tastes like…I wonder if she’d be so sweet."

Knowing he had to keep Evy as far away from Holden as he could, knowing he couldn’t bear to think of that animal touching her, Jonathan begged Holden,

"Please no don’t…don’t hurt her."

"Oh I won’t Jonny, I won’t touch one hair on her head as long as you’re a good boy. Oh, and don’t think about telling anybody about our little party. If you do I’ll have a dozen witnesses who’ll swear that I was with them all night long, and then you’ll find out just how annoyed I can be…understand?"

Reluctantly, feeling trapped, Jonathan nodded.

"Good boy." Holden said with a smile as he reached out and tapped Jonathan’s cheek in a strangely affectionate gesture. "Now I think it’s time for you to go home…and don’t worry I’ll be seeing you soon Jonny."

Then Jonathan had found himself out in the dark night once more, and after a moments hesitation he’d stumbled away as fast as he could. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to get back to his room. His mind had been in a whirl of confusion, and he’d been surprised to find himself at his own door. However, it had been a relief to be able to lock the door behind himself, and he’d quickly stripped off his torn, blood-stained clothes, and had ran himself a bath, needing to be clean.

*

Now as he lay curled up in his bed, shivering, Jonathan realised that he’d been fooling himself, because he’d never be clean again. He was tainted, every fiber of his being soiled, and Jonathan knew he couldn’t tell anyone what had happened to him, he was completely alone. Then the realisation that Holden would come for him again, and there was nothing he could do to stop him, meant that Jonathan could no longer suppress his sobs, and burying his face in his pillow he cried out his misery until, exhausted, he fell into an uneasy sleep.