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Subject 101, Part Two

Reply to Shelly and Sherri

Posted to the Roswell Slash list October 11, 2000

TITLE: Subject 101
AUTHOR: Shelly and Sherri
DISCLAIMER: Roswell characters don't belong to us; any other characters do...
FEEDBACK: thrive on it, makes us write more...LOL
AUTHORS NOTE: This is an Alternate Universe story so we're basically making up our history as it goes along. ALSO this story will feature GRAPHIC m/m sex, with a few non-consensual scenes thrown in. If you don't like that kind of stuff, then please don't read it. Chapters that contain graphic sex will be rated NC17.

Stepping out of the clinic, Max shivered in the sudden blast of chill air and drew coat tighter around slender frame, wincing at the jab of pain from sore ribs. A hand went reflexively to the source of that pain...and he curled fingers into a fist, forcing his hand into the pocket of his coat. Just a little pain, he could deal with it, just like he'd dealt with all the other pain he'd suffered in his life. He forced himself to move down the sidewalk, one stiff step at a time, till movement itself became a little easier.

Didn't remember walking out in front of the car, didn't remember much of anything, once he'd stumbled out of the dingy hotel room, and he knew that lapse should frighten him...but he couldn't summon the energy to care. Just wanted to curl up somewhere, close his eyes, and fall into sleep.

And maybe he'd never wake up again.

He swiped at the tears that trickled down his cheeks and forced himself to move on. No point in feeling sorry for didn't help him any. Just...forget. Forget what had happened to him tonight...just as he struggled to forget what had happened to him every other night. Forget what it felt like to lie there bound and at the mercy of the john, forget those piggish eyes gleaming with lust and the need to hurt, the heavy weight of a body crushing him to the bed, the soft hands that were so cruel.


A hand caught at his coat to give it a tug and he whirled, pulling coat free, heart surging in his throat...only to settle once more as he saw the familiar pixie features of Jinx, head cocked a little sideways as she studied him, a hand going to touch the scrape on his cheek only to fall to her side as he flinched back. A wild mane of violet hair framed fey features, eyes outlined in kohl and lips painted black, her willowy form clad in a tattered white T-shirt showing the black tank top underneath it, frayed black denim shorts, a length of chain drawn through the loops to hold them up on narrow hips, and under the shorts thick leggings, a concession to the chill, with heavy black boots to complete the look.

"What happened to you..." Jinx trailed off, shaking her head at her own question, and slipped her arm through Max's, pulling him closer so that she could lay her head briefly on his shoulder. "C'mon..." she said softly, tugging him along with her. Leading him home...

Home was the second floor of a run-down, abandoned brownstone, the boards nailed over windows failing to keep out the squatters. They'd laid claim to one apartment, smaller than the others, but boosting a very precious amenity...a fireplace. In the winter their group-five in all-would bring what wood they could scrounge up to lay in the fireplace and huddle before the fire for what warmth it could offer.

A meager fire was going, Tony sitting before it with hands out to it, and Jinx gave him a nudge with her foot. "What?" he complained, shifting to look at her and seeing Max. With a good natured grumble he rose and went to a corner of the room, where the other two members of their group, Lisa and Aaron were curled up in a sleeping bag.

Laying a hand on Max's shoulder, Jinx pressed down and he sank obediently to a sitting position, closing his eyes as his body drank in the heat of the fire. Letting Jinx guide him, stretching out on the floor before the fire, with her body a solid pressure at his back and her fingers combing through tangled hair. And let himself sink down into sleep.

* * *

Metal ringed wrists and ankles, cold and hard, cutting into soft skin as he struggled against their hold. No use in fighting, the rational part of his mind told him, but the body that wished to be free wouldn't listen, giving up the struggle only when *he* came into the room. A mocking stroke of fingers through his hair, gentle, terribly gentle, and a nod of dark head....and then pain. Pain cutting through him, lighting every nerve in his body on fire, and just when it seemed it couldn't get worse it did, spiking up and up, till his body was spasming with it and he was screaming, screaming-

He awoke from the nightmare, his throat burning from the screams, body shivering convulsively and clothes damp with sweat, Jinx whispering soothingly in his ear as she rubbed one taut shoulder. "Just a dream...just a dream, Max. Another bad dream...shhh..."

Not a dream...but a memory of where he had been, before he'd come here. Before a moment's inattention had given him the long dreamed chance to escape their cruelty and flee. He shut his eyes tight against the tears but behind closed lids he could see Pierce standing before him, that soft little smile touching his lips as he watched Max writhe in agony. And afterwards he would hold Max's limp form in his arms, to stroke and kiss him, as he wept out his pain and despair. As Jinx did now...

Max shuddered and tried to draw away from her but she wouldn't allow it and he was so tired of fighting, so tired of...everything. So he lay there with her curled up against his back, staring blindly into the flickering flames. Trying in vain to remember a time that he had ever felt safe...

End of part 2

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