...the very things I do not wish to
by Belladonna

I remember the very thing I do not wish to
I cannot forget the things I wish to forget
Cicero

It's said that you remember the things you so desperately want to forget the clearest. That you aren't able to forget them, push them out of your mind. That they're etched inside your memory forever.

And you know what? It's true.

I remember them beating me up, blow for blow raining down on me, their fists and kicks. They kept doing it even as I lay down on the floor. And how it hurt. I was hurting all over.

But still I know that I didn't tell them what they had wanted to hear from me, what they'd wanted to beat out of me. I know that, because then they'd decided to get real creative.

I couldn't see what they'd planned to do to me next. My whole world consisted of red hot pain in my body and blackness. Of course they'd blindfolded me, in case they actually would let me live.
I couldn't see, but I could smell it. I smelled something burning, something sickly sweet. I didn't recognize it and then one of them brutally grabbed my arm and the rubber band was tightened around it. I realized it was too late when somebody plunged the needle inside.

Oh God, how it burned. It felt like someone had injected me with liquid lava, slowly crawling through my veins. My whole being was on fire, I was afraid I'd burn from the inside. And then suddenly, just as quickly as it had come, it stopped hurting and the pain was replaced by a feeling of ecstasy I'd never felt before.
It seemed like I was experiencing a dozen orgasms all at once, my body was shaking in euphoria, buzzing with energy and every nerve was on fire. It hurt but it was a good hurt, oh so deliciously good and I didn't want this rush to end. My mind was flying through the skies, straight to the stars.

And every time the feeling subsided, I felt another prick on my arm, one that brought me even more joy and promises of greater freedom of mind. I hadn't known it was possible but I was soaring higher, felt this salvation coursing through my body, comforting me and making me forget all the pain they'd inflicted on me before.

I didn't know how much time passed and I remember that I didn't care. As long as every time I came down this tiny little pain brought with it the promise to take me flying again, to take me away from there even though that was the last thing on my mind or I had wanted. I never wanted it to end.

I could see now, the darkness had lifted and I felt myself grinning widely. Like a veil flying away, just like I was on those little bird's wings. I saw where I was, a small room with a bed, table at the wall and a chair. I wondered why I'd need those when all I needed was the needle and I'd be happy.

The lamp was throwing patterns on the wallpaper, such beautiful swirls of sparkling light that I could reach out to touch. But they'd always dance playfully away, eluding my grasp and just like sanity, always close by but out of reach.

And I remember that I could see what they'd done to me. There were bruises all over my body. I know I giggled again, admiring the pretty colors they'd made and I tried to play connect the dots on my arms. I found this an exceedingly funny thought. Still do.

But then I came crashing down, striking the ground hard. And I remember that nobody came to me then. No little white bird to take me away on his wings again, no pain that would let me fly once more among the stars. Just empty promises. The pain was there, but I recognized it as a liar now.
It didn't help me, didn't give me any relief when I'd screamed myself hoarse, for them to come back, to help me, anything. To take away the pain that had me wanting to rip out my insides and made my skin feel like it was crawling with ants, only underneath the surface.

I think I even told them what they'd wanted to know, just for another little feeling of pain that would take the big one away. I'm not sure, I don't remember that so clearly as I do the rest.

I begged them not to leave me like this, the image burned forever in my brain how I was laying there, my body shaking with pain and not caring about anything except for the pain to stop and the high to start.

I remember how my mind had gone numb and how I'd kept staring at the ceiling at one point, not caring about the consequences and longing desperately for them to come back inside, to bring me that short pain again, the needle penetrating my skin once more and giving me my blessed relief from all of this.

What's that noise? Sounds like a puppy that's getting the shit kicked out of it. Somehow I think that's funny, because I feel the same. That noise, it's really going on my nerves. Can't be me, can it?

~/~

Starsky tightened his hold on his shaking partner, his arms firmly embracing the other man. The keeing wail he'd suddenly started had subsided into a whimpering sound. Still it had gone straight to his heart and it had hurt to see Hutch like this. Now tremors were racking through the frail body, holding onto him for dear life. As if Starsky had become for Hutch the only anchor for his sanity.

„Shh, Hutch. I've got you, you're safe.“ Starsky continued to murmur soothingly to the man in his arms, rocking him gently. He pressed a kiss on damp blond hair and prayed for the worst to be over soon.
„Shh, you're safe. You hear me, buddy? I've got you.“