Fic: Broken (original) (raw)
Title: Broken
Author: Liritar
Pairing: Matt/Thompson
Rating: R
Warnings: Non-con
Summary: Thompson has something he needs Matt to do for him.
Prompt: slashyheroes15 07: Broken
Claim: Matthew Parkman
He stared up at the white ceiling. Plain white. Everything was white, here. The walls, the ceiling, his clothes. Everything but the pipes running up along one side. That one spot of semi-color drew the eyes, but he didn’t want to look at it right now. He wasn’t really looking at anything.
He was just trying not to think.
Bastards. They were supposed to let him go. They’d promised…
“Parkman.” The memories of the words echoed in his mind, and he couldn’t shut them out, or erase the images, the feelings that came with them. He shuddered and rolled over on his cot, facing the wall now. “I need you to do a few things for me, and then you can get home to your lovely wife. What was her name, again?”
He hadn’t answered. Well, actually, he had. But he hadn’t meant to. “If you touch Janice, I swear to God…”
A chuckle had met his ears, and he’d felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Several times. If he’d had any food in his stomach, he was sure that he’d have lost it.
“Why would I want to hurt anyone, Parkman? I’m not that kind of man.” And then that smile… the one that, despite its pleasant appearance, made you feel like a mouse staring up at a tiger.
“Then why am I here?”
“Like I said, there a few small things I could use your help with.”
The man’s mind had been blank, just like Bennet’s usually was. And, like him, the rare thought that crossed his mind had been in another language. Obviously they were used to dealing with… people like him. “Like what?”
“Oh, your friend Bennet has become… a bit of a problem.” His eyes glinted with something that looked like laughter, but chilled him to the bone. “I just need you to read him while we question him.”
“I can do that,” he’d said, grateful that he hadn’t asked more of him.
“Oh, I know you can. And you will. But there’s something else, first. I need to test you, test your loyalty.” He had slid down to sit next to him on the cot, a hand held out to stop him from bolting. And he’d wanted to. There was something about the man’s proximity that made him panic. “I need to make you ours. Mine.”
He tried to stop the flow of the memories, but it was like watching a movie with a lost remote. There was no stop button, no rewind. No power. He had no power. Over anything.
The man’s lips had covered his, tongue forcing its way past clenched teeth. He’d pushed him back, but it was like he’d had no strength. Drugs, maybe. Or just something about the place, and that man. He’d caught hold of his hands, held him down. Hurt him in so many ways that he didn’t want to remember, but were forever burned in his mind.
And he’d heard the man’s thoughts through all of it. That was what sickened him the most, the fierce, gloating joy he’d had the whole time.
So long, so many times he’d lost count. He’d left him, then, like a broken toy. No, a broken horse. Trained to his hand. He shuddered at that image. But it was true. He belonged to that man, now. There was something in his head that had been shaped by him, and he wasn’t quite the same any more.
He’d never be the same.