Day One (Danny and Gregor) Warning: talk of rape but none yet
Jul. 17th, 2014 03:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
daniel_marlow posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
darker_londonWhen Danny wakes up there's a feeling in the pit of his stomach, boiling away, that he mistakes for hunger. It's only after he tries to sit and the entire room feels like it's tilting, that Danny realises it's nausea he's feeling. His belly feels like it might turn itself inside out and he curls up on his side with a groan.
It takes several seconds more, before he realises he's not at home. The mattress underneath him is lumpy and unfamiliar and when he looks down at his knees, he doesn't recognise the pattern of the pyjama bottoms he's wearing.
That's when it all comes crashing back to him, and Danny's scrambling to the edge of the mattress to vomit all over the drab carpet because he doesn't have to be smart anymore. He's well and truly screwed. Greg. His Uncle Greg found him and drugged him twice and now he's locked away somewhere, clearly being kept so his uncle can do terrible things to him at his own leisure.
He had been wearing jeans that afternoon, which means his uncle has changed him while he was unconscious, and that fact alone is enough to nearly make Danny lose control over his stomach again. He slaps a hand over his mouth and backs up on the mattress until his back hits the wall and his head swims again.
A glance around the room, dim as it is with no windows and only a piddly lamp in the corner for light, reveals the direness of Danny's siutation. There's a trunk at the foot of the bed, which is itself pushed into the opposite corner as the lamp. The room has no closet and only one door, and was probably intended to be an office instead of a bedroom. It's small and dreary and it smells damp.
As sick as he feels, Danny doesn't want to just sit there and wait for Greg to come to him if he can help it. There's a terror rising slowly in his chest, but in an amazing feat of self-preservation Danny hasn't let it claim him, not yet.
He jumps off the bed, his feet hitting the wooden floor harder than he means to. It sets his entire body swaying, and he puts a hand to his head, as if that has even the tiniest hope of clearing the cobwebs. The door isn't far away at all, but as Danny pads over to see if it's locked, it swings open, the shock tearing a yelp from Danny's throat. Fear twists his heart as Greg looks at him, and Danny wastes no time in clambering back onto the bed and into the corner, curling himself up into a ball in the hope it'll keep him safe.
Ten years of nightmares have transformed the memories of his uncle into the kind of villain who tents his fingers and whispers an ominous 'soooooonnn' as the camera fades to black. When Greg steps forward with genuine concern written all over his features, Danny can't even comprehend it. "Dan," he says, his voice softer and kinder than the uncle of his nightmares, "how's your head?"
And isn't that just a fucking loaded question? He's too out of it to even wonder why Greg cares, he simply ignores it completely. It seems easier that way. Danny's hands pull his knees up tighter, closer to his chin, protecting his body. He swallows roughly, his throat uncooperative, and then he shakes his head. "You- You took my jeans."
Greg doesn't miss the accusation in Danny's voice. "You uhm...soiled them," Greg explained. "While you were asleep. I- god, I didn't touch you. I just changed your trousers."
Danny stares at Greg, feeling like his entire body is going numb. God, I didn't touch you, as if Danny's assumptions that Greg had are somehow baseless instead of obvious. "Let me go." It's a quiet plea, almost too quiet to be heard, but Greg doesn't miss it.
"I can't do that, Dan. I- You don't understand." Greg rakes a hand through his dark hair and then he sits down on the end of the bed like all he plans on doing is having a companionable little chat. "I never meant to hurt you. After Val found out about us I left the city just to get away from you. I only came back because I had a job and I was trying so hard not to look for you at all, but you found me anyway. That day about a month ago? I know you saw me. And again in the park. I- I've been following you. You look good."
Hearing that from Greg's lips sickens Danny, and it's the first time he honestly wishes he were somehow deformed on the outside like he is inside his head. "There is no us," he hisses, because the moment that word had been uttered, Danny had felt wrathful. He is just him, dammit. And if there is any 'us', it's him and Rachel. God, Rachel...
Greg's lips twist in what just might be an expression of hurt, but Danny isn't paying attention. He's watching for any sign that his uncle is coming closer. "I wish I could explain to you how- Fuck. Dan, I- It's not- I can't understand it, but I needed you. That first time I slipped and I hated myself afterwards. I tried to stay away from you, but I got so sick-"
"You are sick," Danny growls, and Greg frowns. "And I'm too old for you. Let me go home, please."
"You know I'm here now. I can't. God, I can't and even if I could-" He looks back up at Danny, and the hungry expression in his eyes causes bile to rise up in Danny's throat. "-I've needed you since I saw you again. It's burning me up. God, I can't- I can't even concentrate-" And clearly Danny's age is not a problem for him.
If his uncle had kidnapped him months ago, Danny would have started bawling and pleading right then, but he doesn't. Now Danny knows Zoe and she's so strong. He thinks that maybe if he borrows just a bit of her strength, he can get through this. With a deep breath, he gathers his courage and speaks his mind. "I don't give a shit." There's nothing around him he can really use for a weapon, but he's not giving in to Greg without a fight. "I don't give a shit about how you feel. You think I've had it easy? You fucked me up. Fucked me up good and proper. I fucking hate you."
To Danny's surprise, Greg stands quietly and leaves the the room. The lock turns in the door with an audible click and for several minutes, Danny is left alone, his heart pounding away in his ears. Oh god, is Greg just going to kill him instead? Is he just too much trouble to keep around? Maybe that's better. If the option is being kept as his uncle's sex slave, or dying, just maybe he would rather die.
When the door opens again, Danny jumps but he doesn't leave his little corner. His muscles have started to burn and protest the uncomfortable pose, but Danny isn't willing to risk being more vulnerable. Greg enters the room again and this time, Danny's eyes fall on a bottle of water between the man's hands. "I brought you some water," Greg says, his tone almost guilty and for what, Danny isn't exactly sure. He's thirsty, probably mostly from cottonmouth due to the drugs, but he's not yet desperate enough to be stupid.
"Is it sealed?" Danny asks, arching one eyebrow at his uncle.
"Nah, it's tap water."
Fuck. "You take a drink first," Danny says warily. "I don't trust you not to drug me again." Just because Greg hadn't done anything inappropriate while Danny was unconscious, and Danny didn't know if he truly believed that Greg hadn't, that didn't mean he wouldn't try it again. "If you don't pass out, then you can roll the bottle to me."
He watched as Greg complied with every instruction, down to the letter. Once Greg had recapped the water and rolled it to him, Danny picked it up and held it in his hands, rolling it back and forth until a sufficient amount of time had passed, and Greg hadn't fallen to the ground. Only then does he unscrew the lid and tip the water into his mouth. It tastes amazing, and he drinks deeply, sighing with relief when he finishes.
"Dan," Greg breaks the silence, his voice soft, "I saw what you did to your legs."
Danny really doesn't know what to say to that. He is both vindictively pleased Greg had seen the consequences of the things that he had done, and upset Greg had seen something so intimate. "Fuck you," is what he finally settles on.
"What happened, kid? Why would you do that to yourself?" he asks, and Danny's jaw actually drops.
"Are- Are you kidding me?" Danny's eyes flash as he stares at his uncle in disbelief. "Y- You did it to me! You think my thighs are bad, I wish you could see what you did to me inside! I can't- I don't even know how to live. I have nightmares! I'm on more meds than a pensioner! I tried to kill myself, and I couldn't even do that right. So fuck you and your fucking pity!" he screams. He wants to rush Greg and slam his fists into the man's stupid, terrifying face, but he's still too scared to move.
"Dan-" Greg says, his voice sad, "I never meant-"
"I don't give a shit what you meant! It happened. Now let me the fuck go and you can run. And you can keep running your entire fucking life for all I care! That's the least you deserve for what you did to me."
His uncle is stunned to silence, and now that he's not yelling, Danny has a chance to think about his situation. If Greg doesn't let him go, just what exactly is going to happen to him? Is anyone going to be looking for him? Did the texts he tried to send actually get to anyone before his phone was smashed into tiny pieces? Is he going to survive this?
If his uncle touches him again, is he going to want to survive this?
He flinches when Greg takes a deep breath, and a moment later, leaves the room. The lock clicks and Danny is alone again. It would be a relief, if he wasn't still a captive, and entirely at the mercy of the man who had ruined his life.
When Greg doesn't return, Danny decides he had better get used to the room. There's not really anywhere to hide, but he still slides off the bed and onto the floor. Once there, he crawls under the bed, dragging the pillows and bed clothes with him. Smashed up into the corner, he surrounds himself with the pillows, making them into a makeshift fort. At least then Greg can't sneak up on him if Danny happens to fall asleep. That idea scares him the most. If he knows Greg is coming, he can prepare for a fight, at the very least.
Once in the corner, surrounded by the fake walls, he curls up into a ball and that is when he lets himself cry.
It takes several seconds more, before he realises he's not at home. The mattress underneath him is lumpy and unfamiliar and when he looks down at his knees, he doesn't recognise the pattern of the pyjama bottoms he's wearing.
That's when it all comes crashing back to him, and Danny's scrambling to the edge of the mattress to vomit all over the drab carpet because he doesn't have to be smart anymore. He's well and truly screwed. Greg. His Uncle Greg found him and drugged him twice and now he's locked away somewhere, clearly being kept so his uncle can do terrible things to him at his own leisure.
He had been wearing jeans that afternoon, which means his uncle has changed him while he was unconscious, and that fact alone is enough to nearly make Danny lose control over his stomach again. He slaps a hand over his mouth and backs up on the mattress until his back hits the wall and his head swims again.
A glance around the room, dim as it is with no windows and only a piddly lamp in the corner for light, reveals the direness of Danny's siutation. There's a trunk at the foot of the bed, which is itself pushed into the opposite corner as the lamp. The room has no closet and only one door, and was probably intended to be an office instead of a bedroom. It's small and dreary and it smells damp.
As sick as he feels, Danny doesn't want to just sit there and wait for Greg to come to him if he can help it. There's a terror rising slowly in his chest, but in an amazing feat of self-preservation Danny hasn't let it claim him, not yet.
He jumps off the bed, his feet hitting the wooden floor harder than he means to. It sets his entire body swaying, and he puts a hand to his head, as if that has even the tiniest hope of clearing the cobwebs. The door isn't far away at all, but as Danny pads over to see if it's locked, it swings open, the shock tearing a yelp from Danny's throat. Fear twists his heart as Greg looks at him, and Danny wastes no time in clambering back onto the bed and into the corner, curling himself up into a ball in the hope it'll keep him safe.
Ten years of nightmares have transformed the memories of his uncle into the kind of villain who tents his fingers and whispers an ominous 'soooooonnn' as the camera fades to black. When Greg steps forward with genuine concern written all over his features, Danny can't even comprehend it. "Dan," he says, his voice softer and kinder than the uncle of his nightmares, "how's your head?"
And isn't that just a fucking loaded question? He's too out of it to even wonder why Greg cares, he simply ignores it completely. It seems easier that way. Danny's hands pull his knees up tighter, closer to his chin, protecting his body. He swallows roughly, his throat uncooperative, and then he shakes his head. "You- You took my jeans."
Greg doesn't miss the accusation in Danny's voice. "You uhm...soiled them," Greg explained. "While you were asleep. I- god, I didn't touch you. I just changed your trousers."
Danny stares at Greg, feeling like his entire body is going numb. God, I didn't touch you, as if Danny's assumptions that Greg had are somehow baseless instead of obvious. "Let me go." It's a quiet plea, almost too quiet to be heard, but Greg doesn't miss it.
"I can't do that, Dan. I- You don't understand." Greg rakes a hand through his dark hair and then he sits down on the end of the bed like all he plans on doing is having a companionable little chat. "I never meant to hurt you. After Val found out about us I left the city just to get away from you. I only came back because I had a job and I was trying so hard not to look for you at all, but you found me anyway. That day about a month ago? I know you saw me. And again in the park. I- I've been following you. You look good."
Hearing that from Greg's lips sickens Danny, and it's the first time he honestly wishes he were somehow deformed on the outside like he is inside his head. "There is no us," he hisses, because the moment that word had been uttered, Danny had felt wrathful. He is just him, dammit. And if there is any 'us', it's him and Rachel. God, Rachel...
Greg's lips twist in what just might be an expression of hurt, but Danny isn't paying attention. He's watching for any sign that his uncle is coming closer. "I wish I could explain to you how- Fuck. Dan, I- It's not- I can't understand it, but I needed you. That first time I slipped and I hated myself afterwards. I tried to stay away from you, but I got so sick-"
"You are sick," Danny growls, and Greg frowns. "And I'm too old for you. Let me go home, please."
"You know I'm here now. I can't. God, I can't and even if I could-" He looks back up at Danny, and the hungry expression in his eyes causes bile to rise up in Danny's throat. "-I've needed you since I saw you again. It's burning me up. God, I can't- I can't even concentrate-" And clearly Danny's age is not a problem for him.
If his uncle had kidnapped him months ago, Danny would have started bawling and pleading right then, but he doesn't. Now Danny knows Zoe and she's so strong. He thinks that maybe if he borrows just a bit of her strength, he can get through this. With a deep breath, he gathers his courage and speaks his mind. "I don't give a shit." There's nothing around him he can really use for a weapon, but he's not giving in to Greg without a fight. "I don't give a shit about how you feel. You think I've had it easy? You fucked me up. Fucked me up good and proper. I fucking hate you."
To Danny's surprise, Greg stands quietly and leaves the the room. The lock turns in the door with an audible click and for several minutes, Danny is left alone, his heart pounding away in his ears. Oh god, is Greg just going to kill him instead? Is he just too much trouble to keep around? Maybe that's better. If the option is being kept as his uncle's sex slave, or dying, just maybe he would rather die.
When the door opens again, Danny jumps but he doesn't leave his little corner. His muscles have started to burn and protest the uncomfortable pose, but Danny isn't willing to risk being more vulnerable. Greg enters the room again and this time, Danny's eyes fall on a bottle of water between the man's hands. "I brought you some water," Greg says, his tone almost guilty and for what, Danny isn't exactly sure. He's thirsty, probably mostly from cottonmouth due to the drugs, but he's not yet desperate enough to be stupid.
"Is it sealed?" Danny asks, arching one eyebrow at his uncle.
"Nah, it's tap water."
Fuck. "You take a drink first," Danny says warily. "I don't trust you not to drug me again." Just because Greg hadn't done anything inappropriate while Danny was unconscious, and Danny didn't know if he truly believed that Greg hadn't, that didn't mean he wouldn't try it again. "If you don't pass out, then you can roll the bottle to me."
He watched as Greg complied with every instruction, down to the letter. Once Greg had recapped the water and rolled it to him, Danny picked it up and held it in his hands, rolling it back and forth until a sufficient amount of time had passed, and Greg hadn't fallen to the ground. Only then does he unscrew the lid and tip the water into his mouth. It tastes amazing, and he drinks deeply, sighing with relief when he finishes.
"Dan," Greg breaks the silence, his voice soft, "I saw what you did to your legs."
Danny really doesn't know what to say to that. He is both vindictively pleased Greg had seen the consequences of the things that he had done, and upset Greg had seen something so intimate. "Fuck you," is what he finally settles on.
"What happened, kid? Why would you do that to yourself?" he asks, and Danny's jaw actually drops.
"Are- Are you kidding me?" Danny's eyes flash as he stares at his uncle in disbelief. "Y- You did it to me! You think my thighs are bad, I wish you could see what you did to me inside! I can't- I don't even know how to live. I have nightmares! I'm on more meds than a pensioner! I tried to kill myself, and I couldn't even do that right. So fuck you and your fucking pity!" he screams. He wants to rush Greg and slam his fists into the man's stupid, terrifying face, but he's still too scared to move.
"Dan-" Greg says, his voice sad, "I never meant-"
"I don't give a shit what you meant! It happened. Now let me the fuck go and you can run. And you can keep running your entire fucking life for all I care! That's the least you deserve for what you did to me."
His uncle is stunned to silence, and now that he's not yelling, Danny has a chance to think about his situation. If Greg doesn't let him go, just what exactly is going to happen to him? Is anyone going to be looking for him? Did the texts he tried to send actually get to anyone before his phone was smashed into tiny pieces? Is he going to survive this?
If his uncle touches him again, is he going to want to survive this?
He flinches when Greg takes a deep breath, and a moment later, leaves the room. The lock clicks and Danny is alone again. It would be a relief, if he wasn't still a captive, and entirely at the mercy of the man who had ruined his life.
When Greg doesn't return, Danny decides he had better get used to the room. There's not really anywhere to hide, but he still slides off the bed and onto the floor. Once there, he crawls under the bed, dragging the pillows and bed clothes with him. Smashed up into the corner, he surrounds himself with the pillows, making them into a makeshift fort. At least then Greg can't sneak up on him if Danny happens to fall asleep. That idea scares him the most. If he knows Greg is coming, he can prepare for a fight, at the very least.
Once in the corner, surrounded by the fake walls, he curls up into a ball and that is when he lets himself cry.
