Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10563912.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      13_Reasons_Why_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Clay_Jensen/Justin_Foley, Clay/Justin, Clay_Jensen/Bryce_Walker, Clay
      Jensen/Hannah_Baker_(past)
  Character:
      Justin_Foley, Bryce_Walker, Alex_Standall, Jessica_Davis, Tony_Padilla,
      Hannah_Baker_(mentioned)
  Additional Tags:
      Abuse, Suicide_Attempt, Implied/Referenced_Suicide, Suicidal_Thoughts,
      Hurt/Comfort, Don't_worry_Clay_doesn't_die, Alive_Alex, Protectiveness,
      Possessive_Behavior, Rape_Aftermath, Rape_Recovery, Control_Issues,
      Depression, Eventual_Happy_Ending, Angst, Boys_In_Love, Bisexuality,
      Bisexual_Male_Character, Family
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-04-07 Updated: 2017-04-20 Chapters: 4/? Words: 8170
****** My Name is Clay Jensen ******
by NormalApplepieLife
Summary
     *My take on the aftermath/sequel of season 1 in which the tapes
     weren't revealed and Clay did get Bryce's confession but didn't show
     anyone yet.*
     SPOILERS FOR THE SHOW
     There will be multiple chapters
     Clay Jensen was the last person that everyone expected to attempt
     suicide, but then again, nobody expected Alex or Hannah to do it
     either. Three times the charm doesn't work in this case.
     One day Tony comes over Clay's to check up on him and finds him in a
     pool of his own blood, just in time to get him to the hospital. The
     next day Clay's recorded suicide note arrives at Tony's door.
     Now he must find out why his friend tried to kill himself, help him
     heal in the process, and try to understand why the hell Justin Foley
     keeps showing up in Clay's hospital room.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
My name is Clay Jensen, and I've been in love with Hannah Baker for years, even
if I didn't realize it the whole time. I'm sure if you're here you know the
story. The most beautiful, funny, amazing girl I knew was broken down by
everyone around her until she felt like the only option was to kill herself. To
stop her pain. At first, I didn't understand why she would do that. I loved
her, all she needed to do was come to me and I would help her heal; why
couldn't she see that? I was selfish.
If you're listening to this, then you've already heard Hannah's tapes and you
know exactly why she slit her wrists. I didn't used to get it... But after
hearing those tapes, and after going through what I did, I understand
completely. I wish I still didn't.
If you're listening to this, then I'm dead. And I want you to know exactly why.
Throughout these tapes is evidence of what people did to Hannah, and to me.
Listen, and make them pay. I tried... But.... Well. Keep listening and you'll
hear.
My name was Clay Jensen, and this is the story of why I killed myself."
Tony paused the tape, staring at his friend's deceptively peaceful face,
letting tears flow down his face. He'd never thought Hannah's tapes would have
caused such a reaction in the younger boy. Of course he would be devastated,
but he didn't see the signs that he'd also missed in Hannah. He grabbed Clay's
cold, bandaged hand, thanking God for the steady blip of the heart rate machine
and hating himself for forcing Clay to keep listening to the tapes, even when
he was clearly not handling it well.
He'd found Clay in the act just a few nights ago, hyperventilating in a bath
tub steadily turning from pink to red, arms gashed open exactly similar to how
Hannah's had been. He was still conscious when Tony found him and could only
mutter nonsensically. If Tony had been just a few minutes later and didn't wrap
the poor boy's arms up... If he hadn't gone over Clay's to check in on the
boy...
That would've been the 4th dead kid in only a year. It'd only been 2 months
since Alex had attempted suicide. Christ, what was wrong with this town? Alex,
of course, wasn't dead just yet, but he might as well be. He'd been in a coma
and the rumor was that even if he woke up he'd never mentally be the same
again. Two suicide attempts within two months by kids that nobody had noticed
were desperate for help. Hannah had taught this town nothing, even though she'd
tried.
"Oh, Tony, hello." Clay's mom voice sounded from behind him, no longer strong
and confident, but instead shaky and always on the verge of tears. "It's good
to see you here again." She gave a wobbly, sad attempt a smile and Tony got up
to give her a brief, firm hug. 
Her husband quietly went over the sit beside his son, barely saying a word. He
looked like he was about to collapse with guilt and grief.
"I wouldn't be anywhere else." Tony assured her and took his place next to
Clay's bed dutifully. "Clay's my best friend."
And that was the sad thing. Without Tony even realizing it, Clay had wormed his
way into a place in Tony's heart, which was usually strictly reserved for close
family and his boyfriend. Before Hannah died, Clay and Tony were friendly, but
didn't even speak much. These days was a much different story. He thought of
the broken boy as a little brother and wanted to protect and care for him; he
hadn't even realized it.
For all that Clay claimed he was "wise", Tony realized he didn't know shit. It
broke his heart to see all the machines hooked up to the kid, looking so pale
with bruises everywhere and the self-mutilation hidden from sight. Tony didn't
know who had given Clay those bruises; he'd asked and asked but the kid
wouldn't say a word, just played it off like everything was fine, using his
same old "I crashed my bike" excuse.
The older boy looked down at his tape player and sighed.
Did he want to know how badly he'd let down his friend... To know what had
driven Clay to this?
13-13-13-13-13-13-13-13-13-13-13
Tape 1
"I'd never realized how many gay people were in this town. I mean,
statistically speaking, 1 in 5 people are gay, but I'd never given it a second
thought my entire life. My mom and my dad were supposedly happily married with
a supposedly normal son and I was raised to believe that I was supposed to
achieve the same thing; have a perfectly normal wife with a perfectly normal
child too.
I wasn't raised to believe in another option.
My parents and even most of my town aren’t homophobic, surprisingly,
considering all of it's other many flaws, and I knew a few openly gay people,
as well.
I've always liked girls, I knew I loved Hannah Baker, but I never found a guy
attractive before. Never even considered that an option.
That changed. In more ways than one.
We'll get to this later, though, just keep it in mind as you listen to the
stories I'm about to tell you. I hope you can do what I was too afraid of
doing, what I couldn't live with anymore. Don't tell anyone that you have my
tapes, and by anyone, I think you know specifically who I mean. That group just
causes trouble and nothing good comes from them... Well, maybe not all of them.
But again, we'll get to that later.
I'm not going to designate a tape per person. No, I'm just going to tell you a
story.
You decide what to do after that."
***** Beginning of the End *****
Chapter Summary
     WARNING
     *Graphic description of male on male rape*
     So yeah, don't read this chapter if that's a trigger or if you don't
     want to read that.
     Tape 1
Tape
"The best night of my life and the worst night of my life happened in the same
night. And I'm not trying to exaggerate or try get any pity; what happened that
night changed me forever, is what gave me nightmares every damn night, and it
only gets worse from there.
I know you know what happened to Hannah and Jessica, and that they never got
justice for what happened to them. The justice system is so fucked up because
rapists can just hurt whoever they want and get away with it if you don't go to
the police in time. And what people don't realize is the shame and yes, even
guilt, the victims feel prevents them from getting help.
When I finished Hannah's 13th tape, I knew I had to make a 14th. I had to get
justice for these girls, even if one was dead and the other was too afraid to
say anything. Which is completely valid. I know that now. But, at the time, I
had this building rage. It felt like there was a fire in my stomach, only
getting hotter and hotter.
So I made a plan. A pretty good one, if I say so myself. I just didn't imagine
the consequences I would face for my action. Poking a bear only makes it mad.
But I never could have guessed what Bryce was going to do."
Flashback
I couldn't believe it. I actually just got Bryce confessing that he'd raped
Hannah! There was no way a lawyer would dismiss this and it would have to be
enough to get him in some type of trouble, right? My face was bloody and my
ribs were throbbing, but I'd never felt better than I did right then.
I felt a hand against the side of my face and startled, eyes darting up to
Bryce's and what I saw there made my stomach drop. He had a sickly sweet smirk
on, eyes slightly lidded and leaning in closer. What was he doing?
"You know, Jensen, you're face kind of looks a lot like a girl's." Wait. What?
"I think it's the eyes. They're a little too pretty and your body looks so...."
A lick of the lips and his eyes traveled over my chest. "Soft."
He was standing between my legs next, still with that nauseating smirk on, and
I felt sick. I really didn't like the vibe I was getting here and I was
extremely aware of the fact that a serial rapist was... Looking at me.
"U-Um. Thanks Bryce. I think." I shifted in my seat and pulled my legs up off
the floor so we were in a less intimate position. "It's late though, I really
need to get home. My mom will worry and my curphew's 11:30 and oh- look at the
time- and-" Everything happened really suddenly then. Strong hands grabbed my
legs and forcefully spread them open as he pressed himself in between them,
kind of dragging me down so my back was against the seat of the chair.
I started to panic. "Stop! What the fuck, man, get off of me- mm!" Wet, cold
lips pressed up against mine and it took a moment to process what was happened
before I started struggling. Like hell was I about to make this easy for him!
But I was also distinctly aware of the extreme size difference between us.
Bryce was about 2 times bigger than me, a football player who worked out every
day. I could feel his powerful muscles not even straining as they easily held
me down, like my kicking and hitting was as easy as swatting a fly away.
The only time I worked out was in gym class. And I was really regretting that
right now.
The realization hit me at that exact moment. I wouldn't be able to fight this
monster off. He was much stronger than me and if I could somehow push him off
he was also faster. With the delay time of getting the front door open he'd
easily catch me.
Shit- I was fucked. Nonononono fuck. NO.
"Stop! Bryce get off me, fuck- what are you doing? Let me go you fucking
asshole! You're not even gay!"
My protests went ignored as he pinned my head to the side so he could start his
attack on my neck. I couldn't stop the tears from coming as I felt him brutally
suck and bite bruises into my pale skin, but the worst part was feeling his big
body pressed tightly against mine, weight easily pinning me and even
constricting my breathing. I felt his practiced hand undo my jeans and I
started my struggle anew, panic welling up inside me.
It was like I didn't even make a difference.
"Please dont." I whimpered.
He violently yanked my jeans off of my kicking legs and I took advantage of his
distraction. I summoned all of my strength and hit him straight in the mouth.
The force knocked him backwards and he shouted out. I sprang up, in only my
briefs, and sprinted for the door. I didn't even make it three steps before
what felt like a truck hit me at full force.
I went down with Bryce right on top of my back, the door now in my line of
sight, which almost made it worse.
"Oh, you're gonna fucking pay for that Jensen." My assailant muttered in my ear
and spat a mouthful of blood in my face, simultaneously ripping my underwear in
half, tossing them to side. Fuckfuckfuckfuck no. This wasn't happening. This
wasn't happening.
I'd never gone further than kissing someone. I'd almost- with Hannah- but,
fuck, don't think about her now.
"I was gonna be nice." He growled, forcing me out of my shirt until I was
completely naked underneath him. I couldn't even process what I was feeling but
I wanted to throw up and my breathing was getting faster, almost
hyperventilating. "Was gonna go nice and slow, use lube. You know, girls make
their own so they can even like it eventually. But you, Jensen?"
I heard a zipper and there was shuffling ontop of me. I was still struggling
and crying, all I could get out anymore was Nonononono. He kicked my legs apart
and wrapped his arms around my chest, head right next to my head, so his entire
naked both was flush against mine and he could squeeze me tight. I could
struggle all I want but I wouldn't be going anywhere until he was done with
me. 
I felt like I was choking on my tears. "Please." I whispered desperately,
knowing it wasn't going to make a difference.
I felt him shift and then a warm, heavy weight against my ass. I let out a loud
sob, squeezing my eyes shut like that would make it go away. His lips brushed
against my ear as he started rubbing his dick against my hole. He spread his
legs, forcing me to spread my own, which bared my asshole to him perfectly,
like a little target. It felt lewd and dirty and slutty and I wanted to crawl
in a hole and die at that point.
"I'm gonna make it hurt extra with you." His head started to rub against my
trembling, spread open hole, pressing against but not in.. not yet. "I wanted
you to feel all of me, you know, nobody ever appreciates it enough, but you
will. I'll make you." A sudden, sharp jab and I shouted out in the worst pain
I'd ever felt. With Bryce's strength my poor, little hole had no chance. His
dick forced its way inside like a spear, leaving no choice but to accommodate.
I let out loud sobs and instantly went limp when my struggling made it so so
much worse.
Bryce groaned in my ear, letting out obscene noises of pleasure when he circled
his hips, making me whimper. And God, this was only the head. Like he was
reading my mind, he groaned, "Yeah, you little slut. Knew you wanted me, you
can't keep fucking quiet. Don't worry whore, there's still 9 inches all for
you.
My eyes flew open and I accidently clenched in fear, making the pain worse.
Nine inches? I couldn't even handle one!
He made another violent thrust in and I screamed bloody murder. It felt like a
hot poker was in my ass and I felt something wet in there now and he chuckled
while he moaned. "I guess guys can make their own lube. My little sluts
bleeding all over to make this nice and easy for me. Mmmmm, thanks babe."
Another thrust and I clawed at the floor, not able to escape from the absolute
torture. He'd actually torn my asshole which made it easier to slide in and
even more slick and pleasurable for him but 10 times worse for me. Ever gotten
salt in an open wound? It felt like that but worse than you could ever
imagine. 
I never realized one person could feel so much pain and all I could do was cry
and claw at the ground. My rapist held me even tighter and gave a final thrust,
destroying my asshole while he stole my virginity.
"Ohhhh yeahhh, god, you are so much tighter than girls." He started going full
force on my unprepared, bloody ass and all I could do was choke on my sobs.
"You're slutty little hole is clinging to me, fuck it doesn't want me to leave.
Wants me to stay where I belong. Realll deep in my slut. That's what you are
now bitch. My slut. You don't get it now but you. Will." Each word was
accompanied with a huge thrust. He was jack hammering now, using all of his
weight to really shove his dick as far into me as it could go, forcing whimpers
out of me that I couldn't keep in and he smirked, biting my neck violently,
tightening his arms around my chest.
"Fuck! You dirty whore, you love this. Mmmmm, fuck yeah, I'm gonna take you
again and again, you're so much better than any fuck I've had before, you're so
god damn tight. You're mine now."
His words didn't process, pain clouding what he was whispering but I just
figured it was dirty talk. It wasn't. It was a promise.
He lasted a long time that night. He kept stopping every time he got close to
orgasm and would wait inside of me for a while, until I could feel him soften
and release was far away. Then he would begin the process again. This happened
five times and each time he got more into it, grabbing my hips to force them to
meet his, biting spots on my back so hard that he broke skin, contorting me
into whatever position he desired.
It was about 2 in the morning when he finally came. He'd flipped me around so
we were face to face, my legs splayed around his waist. This was the worst
part; the part I'll always feel guilty for... The first time he made me
participate in my own rape. He stopped again and I figured it was just like the
last time but he grabbed my chin, making me meet his eyes.
"I'll make it stop hurting so much." I couldn't help it- I wanted that. I
wanted that bad. I hadn't gotten used to the pain, it had only gotten steadily
worse. At this point, I would have kissed his feet to make it stop. "Will you
do what I tell you to, slut?"
I nodded, fresh tears blurring my vision. He easily picked me up, still balls
deep inside of me and carried me to his bed, stopping only to open his drawer.
He showed me the bottle of lube and I felt a really sick urge to thank him.
To thank my rapist.
He pulled out- finally -and used a generous amount before pushing back in and I
almost shouted with relief. My torn asshole still hurt, but the lube helped so
much. It was amazing how much it helped. "Now, wrap your legs around my waist."
I hesitated, panicking at the thought of helping him rape me but then there was
an awfulohgodnojab of his dick. He'd never gone at that angle and FUCK it hurt.
I shakily wrapped my legs around his hips, basically giving him free access.
"Mmm, good job baby, now start to jerk yourself off." I shook my head
desperately but he paused and gave me a dark, threatening look and I'd never
felt so much fear before. I grabbed my dick and slowly started to stroke it's
flacid length. He poured some of the lube on it and I was shocked when I felt
it start to stir. No, I couldn't be getting hard with my rapists dick still
inside of me. I felt so sick and betrayed by my own body that I wanted to vomit
everywhere, but the memory of just how much it could hurt kept me stroking
myself to hardness.
"Yeah, getting nice and hard, knew you'd like it. Who'd of thought that nerd
Jensen would be such a slut for my dick, getting hard while I pound your sweet
ass. Now, bitch, kiss me. And you better act like you fucking mean it or
this'll so much worse. He grabbed my balls and twisted harshly and I screamed,
but he just tightened his grip until I smashed my lips against his.
He groaned and loosened his grip but started to gently massage them while he
slowly rocked in and out of my ass. I let a few more tears slide out at how
good it felt.
"Get more into it, act like you're dying for it. I know you are slut. You're
dick says so. Use your free hand."
I silently cried but complied with what he wanted. I could feel the hot burning
pleasure that started to override the pains and I kissed him back, his tongue
raping my mouth in a sick parody of earlier. I brought my left hand up to his
shoulder and he moved it so that I had one arm wrapped around his back.
To an outsider, it would look like he wasn't violently raping me earlier or
that he still was. My dick was throbbing and hard, I was kissing him and had my
arms and legs wrapped tightly around him like I wanted him even closer. But my
face and ribs were bruised from my beating, you could still see a bit of blood
leaking out of my hole, and I was still sobbing.
And then, then he shifted the angle of his hips and I jerked at the burst of
pure pleasure, better than anything I'd ever felt before. It surprised a loud,
porn star moan out of me and he grabbed my hands, pinning them above my head,
thrusting his hips faster, aiming for that spot every time.
And he hit it dead on every single damn time. 
I'd never felt anything so good and couldn't help but keep up a constant
symphony of moans and whimpers, this time of pleasure. I forgot, just for a
moment, who it was above me.
I tightened my legs and started backing up to meet the thrusts, my dick
throbbing so much that I wanted to touch it but my hands were pinned tight.
Lips were still attacking mine and I actually was kissing back, sucking and
stroking the other tongue with my own.
I slammed myself back to meet the thrusts desperately, legs tightening as much
as they could to keep the pleasure going and I let out high pitched whimpers as
I came and the body on top of my slammed into me and I felt splashes of hot
liquid inside my ass and distantly heard grunts in my ear.
I layed there in the afterglow, blissfully unaware for a few minutes as I
basked in the best orgasm of my life.
My legs were still loosely wrapped around the body above me's hips and there
was a softening cock in my ass. I was distantly aware of someone kissing me
lazily and I responded weakly.
Then the dick slipped out and flopped right next to mine and the body collapsed
on me, full weight almost crushing my lungs. I slowly came back to myself and
the full realization of what happened made my stomach churn in disgust.
I'd just... I'd just...
How did I like that. He raped me for hours and made me feel the worst hell on
Earth and then I actually helped him.
For all my protesting, I'd participated in my own rape and actually liked it.
I'd been so consumed by the pleasure that I came on just my rapist's dick. And
I couldnt even leave. Bryce was passed out asleep on top of me and I couldnt
move an inch. I could only lay here, underneath the boy who had completely
destroyed me and started what was the beginning of my end.
I zoned out, staring blankly at the ceiling for hours, tense and afraid to move
in fear of him waking up and starting again. Eventually, he rolled off of me in
his sleep and I slowly sat up, finding my clothes sans torn underwear
downstairs and quietly slipping out the door.
I picked up my bike and slowly started to walk it home, knowing riding would
bring me so much more pain. I'd never known inside of an ass could hurt so bad.
Each step brought a jolt of pain and I just let the tears roll down my face.
I don't want to think about it. I didn't ever want to think about what just
happened.
"Clay?"
I almost pissed myself in fear- it was Bryce he was coming for me he-
I turned around and went lightheaded with relief when I saw who had shouted.
But what was he doing here?
***** Piece by Piece *****
Chapter Summary
     Clay encounters an unlikely hero
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Tony pressed pause, tears rolling down his face as he stared at Clay's
unconscious one. How had he never known? It'd been two entire months and Clay
hadn't said a word. He couldn't help but feel that he'd horribly betrayed his
friend, that he had let him down in the worst way possible.
Tony had seen Clay acting out, hell, everyone had, and he'd just chalked it up
to Hannah's tapes. He'd never even guessed that there could've been a
different, much more horrifying reason. And how could it get worse than what
he'd just listened to?
Tony didn't know how he could keep listening, but he knew he had to. He'd let
down Clay, and now he had to do everything to make it up to him. And oh boy,
would he make Bryce Walker pay for what he did in the worst way possible.
People knew not to mess with Padilla family unless you had a death wish, but
Bryce hadn't realize that Clay was apart of that family too. Tony would defend
him just like he would defend his little sister. Witheverythinghe had.
Tony grabbed Clay's hand and dutifully pressed play, wishing that he could turn
back time.
13-13-13-13-13-13-13-13-13-13
Flashback
"Jesus Christ, Clay! What the fuck happened to you?"
"J-Justin? I whimpered out, so startled that I'd let go of the handbags, bike
crashing to the ground.
Justin Foley was walking towards me with a frown on his face and I took a step
back, trembling. I couldn't deal with this right now; if he came at me it would
be the last straw and I would crumble to the ground. I didn't have the strength
to fight anymore.
"Please don't." I said in a small voice, wrapping my arms around my middle
protectively. Justin stopped a few feet away from me in surprise.
"Hey, you okay?" He said in a softer voice, hands up in the way you would to
try and placate a rabid dog.
I just stared at him as the words unlocked something in me and I couldn't help
but start sobbing again, almost hyperventilating as I gasped for air.
"Shit." He said in shock, frown turning into concerned confusion. "Hey, Clay,
calm down, okay? Clay?" He reached out to touch my shoulder and I tried to pull
back so fast that I tripped and fell to the ground, desperately trying to get
away.
FucknopleasenodonthurtmeBrycenononono
He towered above me, arm frozen in the air and he just looked at me as I kept
muttering out loud. "Please no more Bryce, it hurts ."
"Hey." Justin said, voice more gentle than I knew he was capable of being.
"Hey, why don't we get you home, yeah? That sounds good, right? We'll get you
cleaned up and in your own bed. Hey, Clay, can you look at me please?"
I stayed on the grounds, hugging my legs to my chest with my face pressed in
between my knees. I didn't realize how hard I was shaking or how fast I was
breathing, even rocking back and forth to try and calm myself down.
I don't know how long it took, but Justin didn't say another word and he didn't
touch me. When I'd finally calmed down enough to look up, I'd thought he had
gotten bored with the loner freak and left, but he was sitting cross legged
right in front of me, face scrunched up and looking at me with pained eyes. I
couldn't remember what I'd said in my panic but it must have been enough for
him to put together what had happened to me.
I didn't know what to feel, knowing that another person knew. Mostly, I just
felt cold and sick.
"Do you think you can walk?" He asked and I nodded my head.
"Slowly." My voice sounded like it'd been through a cheese grater but he didn't
comment on it, just nodded and picked my bike up from the ground and we started
to walk.
"I-I don't wanna go h-home. I look..." I picked at my bloody shirt and
scratched at the drying blood on my face and he winced but nodded.
"We'll make a stop first. Get you cleaned up and into some new clothes and then
we'll get you home. One step at a time, that sound okay?"
I let out a shaky breath and nodded. Yeah, I could do that. One step at a time.
And, honestly? It was really fucking relieving to have someone else making
these decisions for me. I didn't have to panic and try to figure out what to do
when all I wanted to do was find a hole and die in it.
I walked a little closer to Justin, still not touching, but close enough to
feel reaffirmed that he would be able to stop Bryce if he came after me again.
We walked in complete silence and I appreciated him not pressing me for details
and being the dick that I'd always known him as. He was being exactly what I
needed at that moment, even if he didn't realize it.
Eventually we stopped and I recognized Jessica's house, frowning. "H-Here? B-
but-"
"Jess hates me. I know that. But she won't ask questions and I can't really
take you to my place. Is this okay? Are you good to climb?"
I nodded and we went up to Jess's window, and I couldn't help but let out
little noises of pain at the straining movements, Justin hesitating every time
he heard. He knocked on the window harshly and Jess's pissed of face appeared
before she opened it.
"What the fuck Justin, get away! I fucking told you I hate you now leave me
alone you-"
"I'm not here for me." Justin cut her off and moved out of the way so she could
see me. I heard a muffled gasp and there was quiet muttering before she let us
both in.
"This doesn't mean I don't hate you. I'm doing this for him." She said lowly,
showing us to the bathroom. "I'll just... I'll go find something you left
here."
The jock closed the door and pulled out the first aid kit before wetting a
washcloth. I sat down on the toilet, hands trembling as I tried not to cry
again.
Fuck, I was so tired of crying. How wasn't I all cried out?
Justin came over infront of me. "Hey, is it okay if I touch you? I promise I'll
stop as much as you need, yeah? We just need to get those cuts cleaned up."
I took a deep breath and gave a barely there nod. I could do this. He wasn't
going to hurt me, not like Bryce did. I could do this.
I flinched when he brought up one hand to tilt my head to the side, pausing to
make sure I was still good before he started wiping all the blood away. He
worked slowly and tenderly, trying not to put me in any more pain than I
already was. And slowly, bit by bit, I relaxed and stopped flinching at his
touch. It reminded me that not everyone was out to hurt me, not everyone was
him.
"There we go." I jerked, realizing that I'd been closing my eyes and leaning
into his touch. He gave me a small, sad smile. For the first time, I realize
how tired and sunken in his face looked, dark circles under his eyes and cheek
bones sticking out unhealthily. "Now, we just need to put some Neosporin on." I
had to physically stop myself from leaning into his touch again when his
practiced fingers dabbed the paste on my cuts.
"And we're all good. Um.. I don't know, what to do about... Do you need a
doctor?"
"No!" A rush of panic. "Just...No. I'm fine. Everything's fine. No doctors."
He bit his lip, but nodded anyway and Jess opened the door, handing us a pile
of Justin's clothes that he'd left here. She looked like she wanted to talk to
me but after sharing a look with Justin, quickly left with a muttered. "Take
your time."
"Hey, I'll be right outside the door. Let me know if you need anything."
I slowly took off my bloodied clothes, knowing that I wanted to burn them, and
carefully stepped into Justin's. I thanked God that Jess was smart enough to
give me sweatpants and a hoodie with a zip on it. They were comfy and easy to
put on and even still smelled a bit like Justin's cologne. Oddly enough, once I
was in the clothes, I felt much safer and even comforted. The numbness that had
taken over my body grew a little warmer and I wanted to chase that feeling.
"Hey, you all good?" Justin knocked and I was still in shock that this was
Justin Foley.  This was the longest we'd ever hung out; we hadn't even really
spoken at all before Hannah's tapes. And he was such an ass to me while I was
listening to him that I hadn't even thought him capable of kindness, especially
after what he let Bryce do...
Maybe some people can change, under extreme enough circumstances. Maybe people
could make themselves better.
He opened the door. "Ready to go home?"
We didn't say much else on the walk back to my place, but I did walk close
enough to Justin to brush up against him every so often. If he noticed, he
didn't say anything.
By some miracle, my parents were asleep and we made it to my room with no
interruptions. I really couldn't deal with them confronting me right now.
I collapsed into my bed with relief, unable to believe that I'd made it back. I
didn't want to think about what happened and I was suddenly afraid to go to
sleep. What if I had nightmares and was forced to relive it? I'd already been
having sleeping troubles from Hannah and the events of tonight would no doubt
make that worse.
Justin set my backpack on the ground and wow, I hadn't even noticed that he'd
been carrying it for me this whole time. Relief hit me hard. I couldn't believe
I'd almost forgotten the evidence! Especially since now it had most likely
gotten Bryce... Hurting me, with me clearly protesting.
Justin looked like he was about to leave and I felt that same panic from
before, reaching out to grab his wrist.
"Don't leave?" My voice was a barely there whisper, but his face softened and
he looked really sad.
"Got a blanket?" He asked, intending to sleep on the floor but I just carefully
moved over, pulling the blankets back for him. He looked surprised but didn't
comment further, just got in fully clothed and we laid there for a while before
I felt more tears start to fall.
Justin bit his lip, looking conflicted, until he shifted closer, my head moving
so it just barely touched his should. He didn't move away and my tears slowly
stopped until I fell into a fitful sleep.
Tape 1
"I will forever be thankful to Justin Foley for that night. If he hasn't been
there, I would have fallen apart a lot sooner than 2 months and I'm not really
sure what I would have done that night, alone with only my memories.
I didn't know it at the time, but he would quickly become my rock, and I'm sure
that some people would call our relationship unhealthy, but he gave me exactly
what I needed. He made me feel safe and cared for at a time when I needed that
the most.
I changed the moment Bryce decided to forcefully take me. He took everything
from me, and I know I'll never be able to get it back. But Justin... He helped.
For a long time, he really helped. I didn't want to think, didn't want to make
decisions for myself, and he let me rely on him.
Never thought I'd call Justin Foley my savior...Well, almost my savior..
Throughout the next few months until I did what I did, he stayed right by my
side and kept me from drowning. But, even though he tried, he couldn't be next
to me 24/7.
Things would have gone much more differently if he had been."
Chapter End Notes
     Thank you everyone for all of you're support and positive comments! I
     appreciate you all so much! (: Hope you like the chapter
***** With Friends Like These *****
Chapter Summary
     The morning after
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The next day, Tony was heading to Clay's room earlier than he usually did, not
able to focus on much besides finding out his friend's story, when he heard a
voice coming from the inside. Tony paused, eyes widening when he heard who was
there.
He had assumed that Justin and Clay would have had a falling out, considering
Clay had tried to kill himself, but hell, if this experience has taught Tony
anything it was that he knew absolutely nothing. Because there Justin was,
tracing the unconscious boy's fingers carefully, cheeks wet with tear stains.
He looked like shit, worse than Tony had ever seen him before. The kid
obviously wasn't eating, as previously stylish clothes hung off his frail frame
and his eyes looked perpetually bloodshot. He was the poster boy for the toll
depression took on your body.
Everyone had thought it strange when Clay and Justin started talking more in
school, but Tony had just chalked it up to bonding over the tapes. He thought
that Clay's too big heart took pity on Justin and wanted to help the boy cope
with what he had done.
He had been so incredibly wrong.
"Hey kid." Justin croaked, voice cracking with emotion, nose clearly a bit
stuffed from the crying. "I'm back, not that it means anything to you...Or
maybe it does. You know, some doctors and shit say you can hear me, but I don't
know. I think they're full of shit. If you could hear me you'd wake up, you
asshole... You'd fucking wake up... Please wake up Clay. It's really-" He
cleared his throat. "It's really fucking lonely without you."
There was a silence and fingers ghosted over thick bandages covering up the
butchered mess of the teen's arm. A shaky sigh was released. "I miss you. I
don't get why you did it; we were fine. Things were going so good. For once in
my life," A choked out laugh. "For once, I was happy, but you obviously
weren't. Did I do something.... Did I do this?"
The former jock bent down and ever so gently kissed every finger on the hand he
was holding. Tony could hardly believe that he was looking at Justin Foley,
even after hearing Clay's tape. Foley had always been an inconsiderate ass, but
he seemed to really care about Clay, surprisingly. Otherwise, he wouldn't even
be here and it was clear that he came on his own, secretly, every single day.
He just made sure to leave before Tony or the Jensens arrived.
Tony wondered if he would get to hear what Justin did to Clay. During the last
tape, his young friend's opinion of Jess's Ex was quite high, but something had
to have happened to push Clay to suicide. If he had a friend (or whatever those
two were), to confide in, then there wouldn't have been a need to die.
Right? 
Flashback
I had a very fitful night and neither me nor Justin got a good night's sleep.
The first time I jolted awake with a shout, the older boy almost fell out of
the bed in shock, but quickly recovered and instinctively wrapped him arms
around my shaking body, not daring to say "It's okay," because it would never
be okay, but instead  said, "I'm here."
And slowly, I relaxed and fell back asleep in Justin's arms. Neither of us
thought about how before tonight we never would have been caught dead like
this. We barely knew each other, had never even liked each other, but tonight
something had shifted between the two of us. We both needed comfort, in very
different but also similar ways. There was a sort of unspoken agreement to not
talk about how oddly comfortable we were touching and hugging and even fucking
cuddling in my bed.
And every time Justin comforted me after a nightmare, and I pressed up closer
against him and his arms wrapped tightly, protectively, around me until I was
practically lying on top of him, my full body squeezed as close as I could get.
He never complained or tried to move away. If anything, he seemed to relish in
the comfort that came from holding someone, and being held. I'd never actually
cuddled with someone like this before, and I found myself thoroughly enjoying
it. I was surprised that it didn't trigger any panic in me, to have a male body
wrapped around me so soon after...
But somehow, I knew deep down that Justin wouldn't hurt me like that. It may
have seemed stupid to some people, considering what he had let happen to Jess,
but I could sense how intensely he hated himself for what had happened. He
certainly wasn't taking care of himself.
After my fourth time jerking awake, Justin, barely even awake, gently
rearranged our positions so that I was facing the wall and he had one arm
wrapped firmly around my stomach while I used his other one as a pillow. I
could feel his steady heartbeat against my back and his warm puffs of air on
the back of my neck. I instantly felt warm and relieved... I felt so so safe in
that moment. Something inside of me just felt settled and I sunk into his
warmth, the corners of my lips twitching into a smile. It was like Justin was a
wall against the rest of the world, ready to protect me if anyone tried to hurt
me again.
I didn't dream after that, and we slept with no more interuptions.
Until my mom barged in at 7:30 to wake me up for school. How many times have a
told her to knock?
She looked like she came in to yell at me, but when she saw the state of my
face and Justin still holding me very tightly, looked at a loss for words.
"Is it okay if Justin stays for breakfast?" I whispered and she looked at me
for a long time before pursing her lips and nodding. I knew that conversation
was going to happen eventually, but my mom would wait until later. Or never,
preferably.
"Food will be ready in 20." And then she left.
I turned my head back to look at Justin and the breath left me when I saw his
face. His stupidly perfect, unfairly handsome face, even as unhealthily looking
as it was. His worry and stress lines disappeared while he was asleep and he
actually looked his age. Fuck, he looked angelic, so peaceful and unbothered by
life. I regretfully shook the arm holding me and he groaned sleepily, hiding
his face in my shoulder and tightening his grip. I couldn't stop my face from
flushing.
"We have school soon, Justin. It's time to get up." I kept my voice quiet and
soothing, not wanting to aggravate him so early in the morning. Last night it
had seemed so easy but here, in the morning light, I wasn't sure how to act.
Did he still want to be so touchy feely? Would we talk at school? Did he want
to pretend like nothing happened? Would he go back to hating my guts?
And then it hit me hard.
School. Students. Bryce. Bryce was a student at school. I would have to- he
would be- oh fuck fuck fuck.
"Hey." Warm fingers ran through my hair and turned me around so my head was
buried in his chest. His other hand rubbed my back steadily. I tried to match
my rapid breathing with his, listening to the calming sound of his heartbeat.
"You won't have to face him alone, okay? I won't let him get near you. I'll be
right with you, okay? Sound like a plan? Anytime you see him, you just look at
me. He's not going to hurt you again, not if I can help it."
A pause, and then quietly, like he didn't mean for me to hear. "Not again."
It was a bit strange how well the other boy could read what I was thinking.
"Take it one step at a time. Shower, clothes, and food first. Just focus on
that. Let me worry about everything else."
I nodded against his chest, swallowing hard before peeking up at him shyly,
saying in the smallest voice I'd ever used, "Thank you."
He brushed my bangs away from my face and looked really sad again. I wanted his
face to look as peaceful as it did while he was sleeping. I had put that worry
there, that pain.
I was struck with a sudden, almost overwhelming guilt that I tried to push
away. It wouldn't be the first time this feeling happened. Not by a long shot.
I never deserved Justin's kindness, his compassion.
He was always too good to me.
We quickly got ready and he helped me clean my wounds again, telling me firmly
that we had to go get... Disinfectant. The kind that was safe to put up my ass.
We would be doing this on the way to school. I cringed at the thought, knowing
how much it would hurt to get medicine up there, almost panicking at the
thought of something else going up my ass, even if it was just my own finger.
But he said it would hurt so much more if it got infected and would heal
quicker with medicine, so that going to the bathroom wouldn't hurt for so long.
God, I hadn't thought of that either. Justin was more clever than he let on. He
assured me that if I didn't do it, he would drag me to a hospital and like hell
did I want strangers looking down there.
Breakfast was awkward.
I opened my mouth to introduce who my mysterious new sleepover friend was but
froze, no words able to make it past. Luckily, Justin noticed right away and
turned on his charm, smoothly introducing himself. It was like the sweet,
protective side that had taken care of me disappeared and the asshole (who
could charm the pants off of anyone) was back, just like he'd never left.
He explained how he saw me wipe out brutally on my bike last night, kindly
offering to clean me up quickly at his house, which was (conveniently) close to
the crash zone. We'd lost track of time and he'd offered to walk me home,
concerned I'd hurt myself more and worried I had hit my head too hard. By the
time we made it to my house, it was very late, and like a good friend I'd
offered to let him stay the night.
He was so convincing that even I almost believed his lies. Only the pain still
throbbing in my ass convinced me that yes, last night had indeed happened and I
had been...Raped. I shook my head, clearing the thoughts away, locking them up
tight where I could pretend like they didn't exist. At least until I saw my
rapist walking down the hallways like he owned them.
I felt a hand grab my knee under the table, thumb rubbing my jeans
comfortingly. I hadn't even noticed that I was starting to breathe all heavy
again and I glanced at Justin, who was still in deep conversation with my
parents, getting both of them to laugh and smile.
He really was handsome.
We were on our way out and my mom even gave Justin a hug. "You're welcome here
anytime, Justin. It was a pleasure meeting you."
I was the only one who noticed the flicker in Justin's eyes at her words.
We arrived late to school, due to stopping for my ass medicine that I didn't
even want to get into detail about. By the time we arrived I was a nervous
wreck, on the edge of a breakdown or a panic attack. My aquaintence brushed his
knuckles against the back of my hand occasionally, just often enough to keep me
calm, but subtle enough for nobody else to notice.
We made it to our first class with no sighting of Him. 
"Out." Justin barked at the boy who usually sat beside me, casually plopping
down when the kid scrambled away. Nobody wanted to be on the jock's bad side. I
found it strange how popular Justin was when he really didn't talk to many
people. He quickly winked at me and brush his shoe against mine and I was
filled with the now familiar warmth. He wasn't going to abandon me. If I was
reading this right, he was actually going to protect me.
I can't even explain how good that felt.
Chapter End Notes
     I'm amazed at the amount of support I'm getting. Thank you SO much to
     everyone who's commented or taken the time to read this. I honestly
     wasn't expecting to do more than one chapter.
     You're all the best!
End Notes
     Let me know if you like it so far! Made the first chapter short cause
     I'm not sure if I should continue, but if I get some support the
     chapters will forsure be longer!
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