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By the time Greg finally let Danny out of the locked trunk, he had been awake for hours. The curled position he had been forced to lie in had cramped his muscles tightly and every minute movement caused pain to needle throughout his body. The only reason he hadn't continued his screaming litany to be released was the arid state of his throat. His hands and feet had sustained severe cuts, some still containing the offending glass, and they throbbed painfully. Despite that, Daniel had wrapped his arms around himself, hands curled tightly around his sides. The only thing keeping him from completely losing it was thinking about Rachel.
One night, months ago now, a beautiful girl had crawled in through his skylight. She'd given him his first kiss, and it had been so simple and wonderful and he had wanted to kiss her again and again. She'd spent the night sleeping beside him. He wanted that back. God, he wanted it back so badly it hurt him more than his aching hands.
"Why do we hurt so much, Danny?" she'd asked him.
"People hurt us. I think that's why we should stick together."
Danny whimpered at the light suddenly assaulting his eyes when the lid clicked open. Greg's face thrust into view, twisting immediately at the smell. "Dammit, Dan," he hissed at the boy, as if being locked up, forced to soil yourself, and then lie in your own filth wasn't horrible enough already without a guilt complex about it. Danny said nothing, he just blinked at Greg, willing his eyes to adjust to the light. He didn't want his vision to be impaired. He needed to be ready for whatever was coming.
"Okay, get up. I'm going to see what you've done to your hands and feet, and then we'll get you cleaned up. Come on."
Instead of obeying, a low moan escaped Danny's lips and he shook his head, causing it to swim dangerously. "I can't. I can't move."
"Daniel. Do not make me carry you," Greg said, the warning in his voice evident." When Danny still made no attempt to move, Greg hissed several choice curse words under his breath before leaning down to scoop Danny into his arms. "You're disgusting."
The argument that it was Greg's fault died in Danny's dry throat and instead he just leaned his head against Greg's shoulder. It was more a sign of physical state than anything else. He had fallen on his back hard during his attempt to escape, and then been made to remain curled up in a cramped space for nearly a day. His body was in anguish.
Greg deposited Danny on the floor of the bathroom, Danny's cheek flush against the fading, peach rug. Danny didn't even struggle when Greg started examining his feet, pulling out bits of glass with tweezers. He grunted and hissed when disinfectant was used, but soon his hands and feet had been treated. "I'll wrap them up after you shower," Greg said, sounding more than a little annoyed. "Which means you have to stand up. Right now."
Danny huffed out a breath, but the pins and needles and left him and honestly, standing sounded better than continuing to lie down. He had been doing that for far too long. He knew, logically, it was going to be agony on his feet, but how was that different than anything else he had experienced in the last few days? Anyway, a shower seemed a little like bliss right now.
Standing took a lot of effort and it was slow going. His injured hands gripped at the edge of the tub, supporting shaking muscles. He was surprised that his legs held him, but they did their job. He expected Greg to leave him so he could shower, but that wasn't what happened.
And suddenly it didn't seem like bliss any more.
"Take your clothes off, Dan," Greg said, reaching for the shower nozzle. He gave it a twist and the pipes clanked to life as Danny shook his head hard.
"N- not until you go," he said, but his protest sounded weak even to him. He had been in his uncle's house for days and honestly he was surprised the man had waited this long to touch him. He knew it was coming; that it was inevitable, yet there was part of him that hoped he could keep putting it off until someone arrived to save him. The hopeful part of himself was shrinking every hour of his captivity, but it wasn't gone yet. Maybe his friends would find him today? Maybe if he could manage to dissuade his uncle for a few more hours-
A fist cracked across his cheek and pain flared beneath his eye. Danny squeezed his eyes shut as he let out a small noise of shock. "I said take your goddamn clothes off, Daniel," Greg demanded, his voice icy cold.
"Please-" Danny whimpered, and he felt a rush of air against his arm as Greg moved past him. From behind him, Greg started to pull the shirt over Danny's head. "No!" His struggles came to nothing, however, when Greg grabbed one of his injured hands and squeezed down hard. Danny screamed and shook and then his shirt was pulled from him and tossed aside.
"Get into the bathtub," Greg instructed, and this time Danny did as he was told. Once inside, Greg grabbed Danny's wrists and before he really realised what was happening, Greg had ziptied his wrists to the washcloth holder. Fear tugged at his heart as he realised he was trapped. Danny was unable to do a thing when Greg pulled his pajama pants down, beyond letting out a tiny cry of horror. He stepped over the pants so they could be discarded as well, and then he was naked in front of Greg and shaking in fear.
His Uncle rose and aimed the shower head towards Danny, now that it was warming up. Instinctively, Danny turned his head towards the water, mouth open, trying to get any moisture possible inside it. "Dan, don't drink the shower water, it's not good for you."
Danny wanted to scream that being held captive by his childhood rapist wasn't good for him, and being shoved in a chest and forced to stay there for hours and hours wasn't good for him and he hadn't had anything to drink in over a day so surely a little water from the shower wasn't going to make a fat fuck of difference but instead he said, "I'm thirsty."
"You can have a drink when you're clean," Greg said, and then to Danny's horror, Greg started removing his own shirt.
"Greg," he whispered, his dry throat trying to close up around the words. He had to force himself to speak because he refused to be silenced by the numbing fear threatening to overtake him. "Greg, please. Please, you- You have to stop now. You can't- Oh god-" he stammered when Greg stripped down to his boxers.
"I just don't want to get my clothes wet, Dan," Greg explained. He stepped into the shower as well, and Danny heard the familiar click of a shampoo bottle opening. Greg's fingers worked themselves into Danny's hair as he built up a lather, and Danny chewed the inside of his cheek to try to distract himself from the feeling of his uncle touching him. He knew he wasn't going to stay confined to washing his hair, and he was right.
"Lean your head back," he said, and he helped Danny rinse his hair free of the shampoo. It was the next part Danny was dreading, when Greg picked up a bar of soap and rubbed it against his back. "Your skin is so soft," Greg informed him, and Danny squeezed his eyes shut again as if somehow that would protect him from this. Those dreaded hands wandered over his body and Danny wanted to die.
Think of Rachel, he told himself frantically. Think of being with Rachel.
Danny concentrated on his breathing, in and out and in and out slowly. He tried to picture sunlight on blonde hair and Rachel's smiling face when she beat Zoe in a race. The warm water cascading over his skin was incredibly pleasant if he could just ignore his uncle's fingers spidering up his back, experiencing Danny's body all grown up for the first time.
The first time Danny had taken his shirt off in front of Rachel, she had touched his arm and told him he shouldn't have to be afraid all the time. She had kissed him and cared for him in the wake of personal tragedy and he tried so hard to hold on to that memory now; the memory of safety and complete trust and fuzzy feelings for beautiful girls.
When Greg washed between Danny's legs, all distractions and memories of his girlfriend shattered and fell away. Danny jerked forward out of Greg's reach, the shower strangely giving him some of his strength back. "Don't-" he hissed at Greg, who tried to grab him.
"Daniel, for fuck's sake, I am cleaning you up!"
"You're copping a fucking feel and I don't want you to touch me, goddammit" He twisted in his bindings as much as his arms would allow, and he kicked out at Greg, sending the other man backwards into the shower wall. "I'm not a kid anymore, Greg! I'm not going to just lie there quietly because you threaten my sister. And I'm not going to believe you'll kill my mum if I don't cooperate like a good little boy. That shit worked on a seven-year-old, but I'm not seven any more! I am going to fight you."
Greg pulled himself up and immediately he stepped out of the bath, throwing the soap hard at Danny, catching him in the shoulder. "Alright, Dan. I'll leave you alone," he said, and then he twisted the nozzle of the shower until it rested firmly on the C, no warmth in the steady stream of water. "Fucking enjoy it," Greg hissed, and he left Danny alone, slamming the door.
At first, it wasn't so bad. The water cooled slowly, and without Greg there to stop him, Danny leaned into the stream, his mouth open. He drank in mouthfuls of water, sating his thirst and filling his belly so much he actually felt like he might explode when he was done.
The water ran colder and colder until it numbed his skin and Danny had to turn to try to save himself from it. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, his skin purpled with bruises and his eyes dark and hollow, but he looked away. He couldn't stand to see himself like this.
Then the cold hurt. Danny burst into tears as he shook and tried to get himself as far away from the water as possible, but he was stuck. He pulled viciously at his restraints in a vain attempt to free himself, screaming in defeat when it was all for nothing.
His lungs ached and his breathing shallowed. His entire body felt like it might shudder apart and he knew he would fall eventually. His jaw hurt from his chattering teeth and it was like he could feel his blood slowly turning to ice, shutting down from the cold.
"Greg," he called out, his voice pitiful and yet full of need. "Greg!" He receieved no response and his sobbing grew louder, more insistent. "GREG, PLEASE!" he screamed, willing to die rather than let his uncle touch him, sure, but this was the worst agony he had ever felt. "GREG. PLEASE HELP ME-"
He had barely gotten the sentence out before he started losing balance. He had been under the freezing water for an hour, but it felt like forever. And then, blessedly, Greg burst through the door, knife in his hand. Danny didn't even think to flinch away from the blade, and Greg simply used it to cut Danny free.
The water was turned off and a huge blanket was wrapped around Danny before he was lifted off his feet and carried bodily back into Greg's bedroom. He was placed on the bed and he lay there, curled up in a shuddering ball, his Uncle petting his hair. "I'm so sorry, Dan. My sweet boy." Danny couldn't even pull away. He was still cold, so cold.
Finally his body couldn't take it any more and blackness encroached on his vision before claiming him completely.
One night, months ago now, a beautiful girl had crawled in through his skylight. She'd given him his first kiss, and it had been so simple and wonderful and he had wanted to kiss her again and again. She'd spent the night sleeping beside him. He wanted that back. God, he wanted it back so badly it hurt him more than his aching hands.
"Why do we hurt so much, Danny?" she'd asked him.
"People hurt us. I think that's why we should stick together."
Danny whimpered at the light suddenly assaulting his eyes when the lid clicked open. Greg's face thrust into view, twisting immediately at the smell. "Dammit, Dan," he hissed at the boy, as if being locked up, forced to soil yourself, and then lie in your own filth wasn't horrible enough already without a guilt complex about it. Danny said nothing, he just blinked at Greg, willing his eyes to adjust to the light. He didn't want his vision to be impaired. He needed to be ready for whatever was coming.
"Okay, get up. I'm going to see what you've done to your hands and feet, and then we'll get you cleaned up. Come on."
Instead of obeying, a low moan escaped Danny's lips and he shook his head, causing it to swim dangerously. "I can't. I can't move."
"Daniel. Do not make me carry you," Greg said, the warning in his voice evident." When Danny still made no attempt to move, Greg hissed several choice curse words under his breath before leaning down to scoop Danny into his arms. "You're disgusting."
The argument that it was Greg's fault died in Danny's dry throat and instead he just leaned his head against Greg's shoulder. It was more a sign of physical state than anything else. He had fallen on his back hard during his attempt to escape, and then been made to remain curled up in a cramped space for nearly a day. His body was in anguish.
Greg deposited Danny on the floor of the bathroom, Danny's cheek flush against the fading, peach rug. Danny didn't even struggle when Greg started examining his feet, pulling out bits of glass with tweezers. He grunted and hissed when disinfectant was used, but soon his hands and feet had been treated. "I'll wrap them up after you shower," Greg said, sounding more than a little annoyed. "Which means you have to stand up. Right now."
Danny huffed out a breath, but the pins and needles and left him and honestly, standing sounded better than continuing to lie down. He had been doing that for far too long. He knew, logically, it was going to be agony on his feet, but how was that different than anything else he had experienced in the last few days? Anyway, a shower seemed a little like bliss right now.
Standing took a lot of effort and it was slow going. His injured hands gripped at the edge of the tub, supporting shaking muscles. He was surprised that his legs held him, but they did their job. He expected Greg to leave him so he could shower, but that wasn't what happened.
And suddenly it didn't seem like bliss any more.
"Take your clothes off, Dan," Greg said, reaching for the shower nozzle. He gave it a twist and the pipes clanked to life as Danny shook his head hard.
"N- not until you go," he said, but his protest sounded weak even to him. He had been in his uncle's house for days and honestly he was surprised the man had waited this long to touch him. He knew it was coming; that it was inevitable, yet there was part of him that hoped he could keep putting it off until someone arrived to save him. The hopeful part of himself was shrinking every hour of his captivity, but it wasn't gone yet. Maybe his friends would find him today? Maybe if he could manage to dissuade his uncle for a few more hours-
A fist cracked across his cheek and pain flared beneath his eye. Danny squeezed his eyes shut as he let out a small noise of shock. "I said take your goddamn clothes off, Daniel," Greg demanded, his voice icy cold.
"Please-" Danny whimpered, and he felt a rush of air against his arm as Greg moved past him. From behind him, Greg started to pull the shirt over Danny's head. "No!" His struggles came to nothing, however, when Greg grabbed one of his injured hands and squeezed down hard. Danny screamed and shook and then his shirt was pulled from him and tossed aside.
"Get into the bathtub," Greg instructed, and this time Danny did as he was told. Once inside, Greg grabbed Danny's wrists and before he really realised what was happening, Greg had ziptied his wrists to the washcloth holder. Fear tugged at his heart as he realised he was trapped. Danny was unable to do a thing when Greg pulled his pajama pants down, beyond letting out a tiny cry of horror. He stepped over the pants so they could be discarded as well, and then he was naked in front of Greg and shaking in fear.
His Uncle rose and aimed the shower head towards Danny, now that it was warming up. Instinctively, Danny turned his head towards the water, mouth open, trying to get any moisture possible inside it. "Dan, don't drink the shower water, it's not good for you."
Danny wanted to scream that being held captive by his childhood rapist wasn't good for him, and being shoved in a chest and forced to stay there for hours and hours wasn't good for him and he hadn't had anything to drink in over a day so surely a little water from the shower wasn't going to make a fat fuck of difference but instead he said, "I'm thirsty."
"You can have a drink when you're clean," Greg said, and then to Danny's horror, Greg started removing his own shirt.
"Greg," he whispered, his dry throat trying to close up around the words. He had to force himself to speak because he refused to be silenced by the numbing fear threatening to overtake him. "Greg, please. Please, you- You have to stop now. You can't- Oh god-" he stammered when Greg stripped down to his boxers.
"I just don't want to get my clothes wet, Dan," Greg explained. He stepped into the shower as well, and Danny heard the familiar click of a shampoo bottle opening. Greg's fingers worked themselves into Danny's hair as he built up a lather, and Danny chewed the inside of his cheek to try to distract himself from the feeling of his uncle touching him. He knew he wasn't going to stay confined to washing his hair, and he was right.
"Lean your head back," he said, and he helped Danny rinse his hair free of the shampoo. It was the next part Danny was dreading, when Greg picked up a bar of soap and rubbed it against his back. "Your skin is so soft," Greg informed him, and Danny squeezed his eyes shut again as if somehow that would protect him from this. Those dreaded hands wandered over his body and Danny wanted to die.
Think of Rachel, he told himself frantically. Think of being with Rachel.
Danny concentrated on his breathing, in and out and in and out slowly. He tried to picture sunlight on blonde hair and Rachel's smiling face when she beat Zoe in a race. The warm water cascading over his skin was incredibly pleasant if he could just ignore his uncle's fingers spidering up his back, experiencing Danny's body all grown up for the first time.
The first time Danny had taken his shirt off in front of Rachel, she had touched his arm and told him he shouldn't have to be afraid all the time. She had kissed him and cared for him in the wake of personal tragedy and he tried so hard to hold on to that memory now; the memory of safety and complete trust and fuzzy feelings for beautiful girls.
When Greg washed between Danny's legs, all distractions and memories of his girlfriend shattered and fell away. Danny jerked forward out of Greg's reach, the shower strangely giving him some of his strength back. "Don't-" he hissed at Greg, who tried to grab him.
"Daniel, for fuck's sake, I am cleaning you up!"
"You're copping a fucking feel and I don't want you to touch me, goddammit" He twisted in his bindings as much as his arms would allow, and he kicked out at Greg, sending the other man backwards into the shower wall. "I'm not a kid anymore, Greg! I'm not going to just lie there quietly because you threaten my sister. And I'm not going to believe you'll kill my mum if I don't cooperate like a good little boy. That shit worked on a seven-year-old, but I'm not seven any more! I am going to fight you."
Greg pulled himself up and immediately he stepped out of the bath, throwing the soap hard at Danny, catching him in the shoulder. "Alright, Dan. I'll leave you alone," he said, and then he twisted the nozzle of the shower until it rested firmly on the C, no warmth in the steady stream of water. "Fucking enjoy it," Greg hissed, and he left Danny alone, slamming the door.
At first, it wasn't so bad. The water cooled slowly, and without Greg there to stop him, Danny leaned into the stream, his mouth open. He drank in mouthfuls of water, sating his thirst and filling his belly so much he actually felt like he might explode when he was done.
The water ran colder and colder until it numbed his skin and Danny had to turn to try to save himself from it. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, his skin purpled with bruises and his eyes dark and hollow, but he looked away. He couldn't stand to see himself like this.
Then the cold hurt. Danny burst into tears as he shook and tried to get himself as far away from the water as possible, but he was stuck. He pulled viciously at his restraints in a vain attempt to free himself, screaming in defeat when it was all for nothing.
His lungs ached and his breathing shallowed. His entire body felt like it might shudder apart and he knew he would fall eventually. His jaw hurt from his chattering teeth and it was like he could feel his blood slowly turning to ice, shutting down from the cold.
"Greg," he called out, his voice pitiful and yet full of need. "Greg!" He receieved no response and his sobbing grew louder, more insistent. "GREG, PLEASE!" he screamed, willing to die rather than let his uncle touch him, sure, but this was the worst agony he had ever felt. "GREG. PLEASE HELP ME-"
He had barely gotten the sentence out before he started losing balance. He had been under the freezing water for an hour, but it felt like forever. And then, blessedly, Greg burst through the door, knife in his hand. Danny didn't even think to flinch away from the blade, and Greg simply used it to cut Danny free.
The water was turned off and a huge blanket was wrapped around Danny before he was lifted off his feet and carried bodily back into Greg's bedroom. He was placed on the bed and he lay there, curled up in a shuddering ball, his Uncle petting his hair. "I'm so sorry, Dan. My sweet boy." Danny couldn't even pull away. He was still cold, so cold.
Finally his body couldn't take it any more and blackness encroached on his vision before claiming him completely.
