Secrets | By : kattanon Category: S through Z > The Shield Views: 973 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own The Shield, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title: - Secrets.
Author: - Katt.
E-mail: - kattanon@hotmail.com
Rating: - NC-17.
Feedback: - Like it or loathe it, let me know.
Archive: - If you’d like it I’d be honoured. Archived at the Shield Fanfiction Archive.
Warnings: - This story deals with the subject of child abuse, both physical and sexual, and will be graphic at times. If this subject distresses you please do not read any further.
Disclaimer: - I don’t own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.
Authors Notes: - This is a special birthday fic I wrote for Whipper. It’s been several months in the making and I hope she enjoys it. She requested a Childhood’s Hours AU story, and as it was the universe she created I only hope it lives up to her expectations.
So enjoy your present Whipper. Happy Birthday, even if it is early LOL.
Secrets Chapter 1.
Vic shoved open the door to the boy’s restroom, and walked in pulling out a packet of cigarettes from his jeans pocket. He didn’t need to glance behind himself to know that Shane, Curtis and Ronnie were following. Where he led they followed, it was just the way it was, the accepted order of things, and it suited Vic just fine. They should’ve been in gym class, but who needed to be out on the athletics track running around in circles, like hamsters in a wheel, sweating and wasting their time. Much better to sneak off, down here at the far end of the science block, and have a few laughs.
He’d just been about to light up, while laughing as he listened to Shane brag about how he’d copped a feel of Lisa Wiley’s breast at the bowling alley last night. He’d just been about to tell Shane how he’d copped a feel, and more, of something a little more Southerly then her tits when Curtis held up his hand and shushed them. Looking over at Curtis, who was standing by the cubicles, Vic raised a questioning eyebrow at him. Curtis indicated one of the closed stalls near to where he was standing. Then Vic heard it too, a sniffle. There was someone in there; someone was eavesdropping on them. Vic nodded at Curtis and bent down to look under the stalls, but couldn’t see anything. Again the slight sniffing sound, someone was in there trying very hard not to be seen or heard. Walking over to the closed door Vic banged on it and demanded,
"Whoever’s in there you’d better open this door right now, or else I’m gonna smash it in!"
He waited, readying himself, and was about to carry out his threat to kick the door in when he heard the click of the lock being drawn back.
Ready just in case whoever was inside decided to try and make a break for it, Vic raised his fist, and with his other hand cautiously pushed the door open. He immediately dropped his fist and relaxed at the sight that met him. It was just some scrawny kid, sitting with his feet pulled up onto the toilet seat, with a handful of bloody toilet tissue trying to staunch the blood that was oozing from his nose. In his other hand he clutched some torn up papers that had once been covered in neat handwriting and diagrams, but were now torn, wet and slightly blood stained. The kid was gazing at them with wide terrified eyes that looked out from under a fringe of brown hair that flopped over his forehead. He reminded Vic of a hunted animal, and Vic didn’t like the uncomfortable feeling that welled up in his chest at that image.
He heard Shane snort in disgust behind him,
"It’s just some geek."
Ignoring him Vic reached into his pocket. If there were two things his mom insisted on before he left the house every morning, it was that he wore clean underwear and he had a clean hankie. Pulling the carefully folded, white square from his pocket he held it out,
"Here kid."
The boy glanced up at Vic’s eyes for a moment before hastily dropping his gaze, and Vic could practically hear the kid’s mind ticking over. He was trying to see when the punch line was going to be sprung on him. When he’d become the butt of some particularly vicious joke.
"It’s ok, just take it." Vic told him.
Dropping the bloodied tissue into his lap the boy reached out with a hesitant, slightly trembling hand, and took the hankie from him.
Vic could hear the others moving away, loosing interest. However, he stayed, leaning against the door jam, and finally lighting a cigarette. He watched as the kid blotted at the dribble of blood that still trickled from his nose. He at least relaxed enough to put his feet down onto the floor, but other than that he didn’t move, and he didn’t look up. There was an air of resignation about the boy, a certain air of defeat.
About to shoo the boy out of the bathroom, so him and his boys could have some privacy, Vic found something caught his eye. As the boy reached up to wipe at his nose the sleeve of his sweater fell back a little. Around his wrist were bruises, vicious, painful looking bruises. Some looked fresh, some looked older. They were in the shape of fingers, big fingers, adult sized fingers.
"They look painful." Vic commented, indicating the kid’s wrist, watching for his reaction.
The boy fearfully glanced up at Vic as he hastily pulled his sleeve down to hide them and he spoke for the first time,
"It’s ok…it’s nothing."
"Don’t look like nothing." Vic commented, trying to sound casual.
"I…I’ve gotta go…I’m late for class." The boy stuttered.
He held out Vic’s now blood stained hankie.
"It’s alright," Vic said. "You can keep it."
"Thanks." The boy mumbled as he stood up.
"Who did this?" Vic asked, indicating the kid’s bloody nose.
The boy just shrugged. Not that Vic really needed him to answer, he could guess, Jackson, that prick, and his cronies no doubt.
Vic stood back and let the boy pass by him, watching as he walked quickly towards the restroom door. Shane and the others leaned against the sinks sniggering as he passed them. Shane went to thrust out his foot in an effort to trip the boy up as he passed. However, he thought better of it when he saw the sharp look Vic sent in his direction, sometimes Shane could be a prick.
Just as the kid’s hand grasped the door handle Vic had a thought and called out,
"Hey kid."
As he watched he saw the slim body tighten with tension, the hand gripping the door handle grasped it so hard the boy’s knuckles became white and bloodless. Frowning at the reaction Vic said,
"It’s ok I just wanted to know your name."
Relaxing slightly the boy replied without turning around,
"H…Holland."
Shane and the others immediately began to laugh, and before Vic had the chance to say anything else the boy pulled open the door and fled.
Unsettled and pissed off, and not knowing why, Vic turned to the others and barked,
"Shut up!"
Turning back to the cubicle the kid had been in he noticed that, as well as dropping the bloody toilet tissue onto the floor; he’d also dropped the torn paper. Curious Vic reached down and picked it up reading the first couple of lines –
Holland Wagenbach. Geography. Mr. Howe.
" The Tennessee Valley Project."
After that the ink had run where it had gotten wet, and blood was splattered across the neat drawings. With a snort of disgust, at that dick Jackson and his friends, Vic dropped the ruined report back onto the floor, and turned back to the others, who were watching him silently.
Smiling at them he watched them relax as he began to recount to a disgruntled Shane how much further he’d gotten with Lisa Wiley.
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