Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1088183.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Bandom, The_Cab
  Relationship:
      Ian_Crawford/Alex_Marshall, Alex_Marshall/OMC
  Character:
      Ian_Crawford, Alex_Marshall, Original_Male_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Angst, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Rape_Aftermath, Rape_Recovery, Graphic
      Description, Drunk_Sex, Non-Consensual
  Stats:
      Published: 2009-01-30 Words: 8026
****** Resounding Silence ******
by nothinginfinite
Summary
     When Alex is broken against his will, he finds the strength he needs
     to move on in his closest friend.
Notes
     This fic contains graphic depictions of rape while being drunk. There
     is a happy ending, but if rape is a trigger for you, I ask that you
     please proceed with caution.
     disclaimer: If I was making money writing these stories, I wouldn't
     be in the debt that I am. This is in no way true or intended to hurt
     the aforementioned parties. Any similarities to actual events are
     purely coincidental. As always, please do not link this to anyone
     mentioned in this story or the people they know.
See the end of the work for more notes
Letting go has never been easy, but holding on can be as difficult. Yet
strength is measured not by holding on, but by letting go. -Len Santos
You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you
really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself 'I have
lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You
must do the thing you think you cannot do. -Eleanor Roosevelt
Alex is lying on the bed, curled up in a ball. There are goosebumps breaking
out on his exposed skin, more from fear than cold. His eyes are squeezed shut
and he's taking labored breaths trying to settle his racing mind and force back
the nausea that's threatening to overwhelm his senses. He needs to get back to
the hotel, but he can't seem to find the energy to get himself dressed and
moving. Alex hears a sound and freezes, but the murmur of voices moves past the
room he's in and fade away, leaving him alone in the dark with the images burnt
behind his eyelids, blood and semen drying sticky between his thighs.
The party is chaotic, sharp and focused one minute and blurred around the edges
the next. Alex is sure that he's only had a couple of beers, but then again, a
couple of beers don't normally leave him feeling loopy and loose like he feels
now. He frowns slightly, head tilted as he stares down at the bottle in his
hand, sure that it's going to give him the answer he seeks. A loud laugh
catches his attention and he sees Ian locked in an animated conversation with
Pete, identical grins on their faces, hands moving wildly as they illustrate
whatever story their attempting to reenact. Alex blushes when Ian catches his
eye and sends him a wink, ducking his head shyly. He has so had way more than a
couple of beers.
He's thinking that perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to get quite so wasted
when he feels a warm presence by his side. When he looks up, he's surprised to
see their drum tech, Adam, standing by his side. Alex grins because he likes
Adam; he's a good guy.
“Some party, huh?”
Adam nods, his eyes looking a little wide as he takes in all the people,
leaning in to talk to Alex over the bumpbumpbump of the music. “Yea. I mean,
I've heard that Pete Wentz throws some crazy shindigs, but I didn't expect
something this big, you know?”
Alex nods, leaning closer to Adam, taking a deep drink of his beer. “I've been
to a couple of his parties and they've always been this crazy. I think it
hasn't quite set in yet that he's not as young as he used to be anymore.”
Adam smiles at Alex, laughing softly; and Alex feels a flutter of something in
his stomach at the look that Adam is giving him. There's something off about it
and it makes Alex uncomfortable, but when he glances around for a member of his
band, they're nowhere to be found. He passes off his discomfort as caused by
the alcohol when he says yes to Adam's suggestion that they go some place
quiet.
He didn't know that he'd regret that decision for months to come.
Alex forces himself into a sitting position after emptying the contents of his
stomach over the side of the bed. He can't help the pained gasp that slips from
his lips as he settles his body weight on his rear. He stands shakily, bending
to gather his clothes, white-hot spikes of pain shooting up his spine, legs
quivering with the effort to stay standing. He barely registers the muted sound
of the bass thumping downstairs and the rise and fall of voices that tell him
that the party is still in full swing; not enough time has lapsed for anyone to
miss him.
He tugs on his clothes, wincing at the slide of the material over the fresh
bruises on his skin. His fingers trip over the buttons, useless for the shaking
of his hands. Alex bites back a sob, feeling suddenly helpless and he presses
the heels of his palms against his eyes hard, sending white sparks shooting
through his vision. He takes a few deep breaths and rights his clothing before
reaching for the door. The moment the door opens, a wave of sound and the
stench of beer and vomit assaults Alex's senses and he recoils slightly.
Shaking his head, he makes his way through the hallway, thankful for it's
emptiness. The feeling of nausea gets stronger as he descends the stairs and
Alex swallows, his mouth sour from vomiting.
He avoids eye contact and does his best to maneuver past people without
touching them, each brush making him more skittish. His skin is crawling over
his arms and suddenly, it feels too hard to breathe. He's almost outside, the
front door in his line of sight when a hand suddenly clasps around his wrist
and Alex whirls around immediately, a biting hiss on his lips before he even
registers the person attached to the hand.
“Let go of me!” His heart is pumping wildly in his chest and it takes a moment
before he sees Ian's concerned and shocked face swimming in his vision.
“Marshall?” Alex swallows, avoiding looking into Ian's eyes and keeping his
hands by his side so that Ian can't see how badly they're shaking.
“Sorry. I'm. I'm just tired. I'm going to head back to the hotel, calling it a
night.” He chances a glance at Ian through the fringe of his bangs and Ian's
looking at him skeptically, his mouth set in a firm line, but he nods.
“Okay. We'll be back soon. Get some rest, buddy.” He doesn't reach out for Alex
again and Alex turns back around, Ian's eyes following him all the way out the
door. It's only once the door shuts with a resounding 'click' behind him that
Alex let's himself breathe in hitching gasps, back pressed against the worn oak
door for support.
                                   ♩*♩*♩*♩*♩
Alex is standing under the spray of the shower, the water turned up as hot as
it will go, almost scalding. He's spent the last fifteen minutes scrubbing his
flesh raw, now a bright red, and still he doesn't feel clean. His body aches in
places he's sure were never designed to hurt and he can still feel Adam's hands
on his skin, his fingerprints already turning ugly shades of bluegreenpurple on
Alex's hips. He can feel the tears that he's held back until now slipping down
his cheeks and he bites his lip until it bleeds to keep from making a sound,
even though he knows his band mates are nowhere near to hear.
When the water runs cold Alex steps out of the shower and he's glad that the
mirror has fogged up because he doesn't want to see his reflection. He doesn't
need to know how broken and pathetic he looks, mirroring how he feels on the
inside.It's the middle of summer and even with the air conditioner on in the
room its too warm for pajamas, but Alex dresses in a shirt and sleep pants
anyway, curling up under the thick hotel blankets. He lies there, tensing at
every sound - the kick of the air conditioner when it turns on, the sound of
voices outside of the room, the creak of someone moving around in the room
above - and he can't close his eyes without seeing Adam's face hovering above
him with a cruel smirk. It's only after he gets up and rifles through Cash's
things, locating his bottle of sleeping pills and popping a few - it's not like
Cash will notice anyway - that Alex falls into a restless sleep.
Alex isn't sure how exactly they came to this conclusion, but he is certain of
one thing: he's not interested. He pushes at Adam's shoulders, trying to get
the boy away from his current position at Alex's neck, but Adam just chuckles
and presses closer. Frowning, Alex pushes against his shoulders harder,
successfully getting Adam off of him. He crosses his arms and stares at their
drum tech, eyes narrowed.
“What are you doing?”
Smirking, Adam just moves forward again, his hands settling on Alex's hips.
“Playing hard to get, are we? Mmm, I like it.”
Alex shoves him away again, a look of disgust on his face. “Are you fucking
kidding me?! I'm telling you that I'm not interested. Get the fucking message.”
Adam's smug smile melts off his face and the dangerous look that replaces it
sends a shiver up Alex's spine. He's suddenly aware that he's pressed up
against the wall, the door across the room from him; it might as well be a mile
away.
“Listen here, you little bitch. Five minutes ago you wanted it and now, because
you've suddenly grown a conscience, you think you're going to back out? Wrong.”
Adam's advancing on him and all the breath has gone out of Alex's lungs. Right
as Adam reaches him, Alex darts under his arm, running for the door. He hasn't
gone more than five steps before he's tackled to the ground, landing hard on
the floor, his head hitting the dresser on the way down leaving him dizzy. He
tries to fight through the fog of disorientation, Adam heavy on top of him and
he wants to kick or punch but his limbs feel heavy and uncooperative. He opens
his mouth to scream for help, but Adam's already backhanding him and Alex can
taste the tang of copper on his tongue.
It's all a blur of motion after that as Adam man-handles him onto the bed,
ripping at his clothes. Alex makes a few futile attempts to push Adam off of
him, but with his vision swimming in front of him, Adam easily has the upper
hand. There's pain when Adam nips at his lip, drawing blood and when he
scratches down Alex's chest, and again when Adam palms his dick roughly in an
attempt to get him hard. And then the fire comes, licking at him from the
inside out as Adam breaches Alex's body, taking what doesn't belong to him.
Right before darkness overtakes him, Alex is sure he can hear someone screaming
and then, there's silence.
It's only when Ian's shaking him awake, eyes wide and scared, that Alex
realizes the screaming was coming from him. He bolts upright, the sheets
tangled around him in a sweaty mess. Ian is sitting next to him, pale even in
the shadows of the hotel room with Cash poised at the end of the bed, looking
ready to run for help if he has to. Alex swallows and brings a hand up to brush
his hair away from his face and he's dismayed to see that once again, his hand
is shaking.
“Alex?” Alex looks at Ian and he can already see that question on his lips and
he swallows again, his hand dropping down to grip the comforter tightly.
“I'm fine.” His voice is hoarse from screaming and Alex knows that Ian won't
buy it; hell, he doesn't even buy it. “Just. Just had a nightmare.” It's not
the first time that Alex has woken his band with his screams. It's just that
it's been quite some time since his last episode.
“You wouldn't wake up, Alex. It was like you couldn't snap out of it or
something.” Cash's voice is soft, but it still puts Alex on edge and he
clenches one hand into a fist, his nails pressing into his palm.
“I said, I'm fine.” Alex looks up to see his friends looking at him uncertainly
and his words hang between them for a few tense moments before Cash bobs his
head once, twice, and rubs his hand over the back of his neck.
“Okay.”
Ian waits a beat, eyeing Alex calculatingly before he too gets up and shuffles
back to his bed. Alex lays back down and listens to the sounds of his friends
settling back into sleep, their snores filling the air in minutes.
Alex never does fall back asleep.
                                   ♩*♩*♩*♩*♩
Alex is expecting it to get easier once they got back on the road, the monotony
of tour life drowning out any excess thought; in some ways, it does. He works
himself hard, throwing himself into their performances and interviews and when
he collapses into his bunk at the end of the day, he is so bone tired that he
falls asleep immediately. But it isn't enough.
The nightmares still come and five nights out of seven, he'll wake in sweat-
soaked sheets, screams dying on his lips as one of his friends shakes him out
of his terror-trapped dreams. He lies awake the rest of the night, shaking in
his bunk, afraid to fall asleep and be trapped in the worst night of his life
forever. When he shuffles out to the kitchen for breakfast the next morning,
the bags under his eyes are heavier and more prominent than the day before. His
friends say nothing, but he can feel their concerned looks and can see the
silent conversations they hold out of the corner of his eye.
But the worst thing is that Adam is still their tech and he watches every move
that Alex makes, a permanent smug smile on his lips. Alex does his best to
avoid him, but it seems that Adam's out to make him feel as uncomfortable as
possible, purposely brushing up against him, fingers grazing his wrist when he
walks by, even when there's no reason for them to come into contact in the
first place. It grates on Alex's nerves and he chews the insides of his cheeks
raw to keep from screaming, flashes of the party running through his mind and
he's unable to suppress the shivers that run through him at Adam's touch. If
possible, Adam's smug smile only grows and the 'accidental' brushes become more
frequent.
It's the end of sound check for the Chicago show, the third one before the end
of the tour and Alex is sitting alone at his piano, fingers ghosting over the
keys. He's so tired these days that it takes every ounce of energy he has just
to function and it shows; he slipped up six times during sound check, earning
the ever-present looks of concern from his friends. He had feigned exhaustion
and being preoccupied and his band mates seem to have bought it, letting the
issue drop. Alex prides himself on the fact that he's at least never messed up
a show, not drawing the attention of their fans. So far, his facade seems to be
intact, even if his sanity isn't.
Alex is zoned out, not focusing on any of his surroundings so he doesn't notice
the person behind him until they press up against him, fingers curling over his
wrist to stop their movement. Alex gasps and goes rigid, back straight and eyes
wide and focused, breathing uneven. His heart rate picks up even more when he
hears the voice in his ear, breath washing hotly over the shell of his ear.
"You're looking tired, Alex. Aren't you getting enough sleep at night? Or do
you spend them thinking of me, unable to fall asleep?" Alex's stomach churns at
the sound of Adam's voice and the skin where Adam's fingers are is burning, his
flesh crawling with disgust.
"Let go of me, Adam." Alex's voice wavers a little, breath catching as he tries
to keep from passing out right there. Adam's answering chuckle only makes his
heart sink and Alex's gaze darts around, looking for a member of his band.
"They're not going to come looking for you, Alex. They all went to grab a bite
to eat before the show and I told them I'd come back and get you, make sure you
had plenty of time to eat. They're concerned about you, Alex. They think
something is wrong. Is something wrong?"
Alex can't get his tongue to function, can't get it to dislodge from the roof
of his mouth to scream, let alone force words past his lips. He hates that he's
let someone get to him like this, that Adam has so much control over him. He
vaguely wonders if he'll ever get closure or if he'll always be afraid of his
own shadow, let alone human touch.
"N-Nothing's wrong." The stutter of his words gives away Alex's nerves and he
curses himself mentally, ashamed to have given Adam the upper hand. Adam lets
go of one of Alex's wrists, only to grab it with the other, holding both of
Alex's tiny hands against the piano keys, the discord resounding angrily. His
free hand moves down Alex's side towards the waistband of his jeans and Alex
tenses further, his body vibrating with fear. His mind is chanting Nonononono
and he closes his eyes, trying to breathe.
"Do I turn you on, Alex?" It's all Alex can do not to snort in disgust.
Clearly, the man is insane if he thinks he's enjoying this; his unresponsive
dick should have been Adam's first clue. Alex tries to hold back a shudder at
the feel of Adam's hand roughly palming him through his jeans, but only just.
The disgust and bile is rising in his throat and when he swallows, it gets
caught. Focused on touching Alex's dick, Adam's hand slips a little on Alex's
wrists and he takes that moment to break free, shooting to his feet fast enough
that Adam's jaw gets caught on Alex's shoulder from where he was hanging over
it and he stumbles backwards. Alex scrambles around the piano bench, backing
away to put as much distance between himself and Adam as possible.
"You disgust me, Adam. L-Leave me the fuck alone and don't you ever, ever touch
me again." Alex is glaring at Adam and despite the small stutter, he's glad
that he finally stood up for himself. Alex takes another step back before
spinning on his heel and walking as quickly as possible to the dressing room
without it seeming like he's running to get away, thankful for the sound of
silence in place of footsteps behind him. The moment he's through the doorway,
Alex shuts the door behind him, resting his head on the cool wood for a moment
as he catches his breath. He backs away from the door, collapsing tiredly on
the couch, sagging against the cushions. He's tired and so worn out and he just
wants to be able to sleep. With the guys watching as closely as they do, he
knows he can't keep sneaking Cash's pills; someone is bound to notice.
Alex closes his eyes and is just drifting into the first edges of sleep when
the door opens, someone shuffling into the room. Thinking that his band mates
have returned and one of them has no doubt come to find him and attempt to get
an explanation out of him, Alex keeps his eyes closed, hoping they'll go away.
It's only when he feels the brush of fingers against his face that Alex snaps
his eyes open and he gasps involuntarily when he sees Adam in front of him.
Alex scrambles off the couch, feeling like he's stuck in a bad dream again and
he prays to God he'll wake up soon. He's backing away from Adam, who, for the
moment, seems content to watch him with an amused smile on his face. Adam
stands and takes a couple steps towards Alex, one hand reaching out to him and
Alex pulls away, the familiar feeling of panic welling within him.
It's only when his back hits the wall that Alex realizes that the whole time
he's been trying to escape, Adam has just been slowly backing him into a
corner, putting him right where he wants him. Alex's heart is thumping loudly
in his chest and he feels like he might throw up at any minute. The feeling of
déjà vu is overwhelming as Adam keeps advancing, narrowing the distance between
him and Alex. Alex is looking around wildly, trying to find some escape and
that seems to further amuse Adam, who chuckles deep in his throat at Alex's
obvious fear.
"I got you where I want you..." Adam trails off and Alex feels like he's
suddenly caught in some bad b-movie, but he can't seem to escape. Adam takes
the last step to close the small distance between them and Alex shrinks in on
himself, trying to pull back and put more space between them, even though it's
impossible with the wall against his back. Adam just smirks at him and the
nauseous feeling grows. Adam leans in and nuzzles at Alex's neck, who turns his
head to the side, eyes screwed shut in an effort to block out the image. Alex
tries to think of other things, to put his mind elsewhere, to escape inside of
himself but it's hard, especially when Adam is making his presence so well
known. Alex beats weakly at Adam's chest, but to no avail; the man doesn't
budge and Alex can't overthrow him with his own body weight. He lets out a
small helpless sound - which Adam apparently takes for consent because he
starts nibbling and sucking at Alex's neck - embarrassed and disgusted with
himself. He's given up on trying to fight back and tears are spilling from his
eyes as he leans back against the wall, limp and unresponsive.
Adam is spinning him around and pinning him to the wall, yanking his pants down
to expose his ass when the door opens and his band spills in, chattering
loudly. Alex squeezes his eyes shut again, this time in humiliation, not
wanting to see the looks of disgust and disappointment on his band mates'
faces. He blocks out everything and only faintly registers questioning and
angry voices and then Adam is being ripped away from him. There's yelling and
raised voices and the sounds of a scuffle, but Alex isn't responding to any of
it, locked inside his own mind. He's vaguely aware of someone redressing him
before directing him to the small bathroom in their dressing room, turning on
the shower and getting him into it, but it's a blur. He hears his own voice
whimpering softly and someone - Ian? It sounds like Ian, - whispering
soothingly to him as he bathes him and then redresses him, settling him on the
couch against him. He doesn't like to be touched, has avoided all physical
contact with his band over the last several weeks, but Alex finds comfort in
the person's touch and he clings to them unconsciously like a lifeline.
Minutes pass-minutes? It feels like hours-in a blur of voices and color, Alex
barely registering a thing. He's unaware of his surroundings, eyes vacant as he
retreats into himself, physically tucking himself further and further into
Ian's side-the cologne that broke through his senses ave him away-with each
raised voice and slammed door. There's a moment of panic when someone
mentioning calling the cops breaks through his comatose state, but Ian whispers
soothingly to him, rubbing gentle circles on Alex's back as if he were talking
down a frightened animal; Alex doesn't need to look in the mirror to know that
he's the equivalent.
A cop arrives and Alex shrinks impossibly further, attempting to make himself
invisible on the couch. He doesn't want to be here, in this unfamiliar venue in
the middle of nowhere, attempting to blend into the grimy couch that who knows
how many people have used. He can see Johnson flailing his hands around as he
speaks to the cop, his face red in anger, no doubt recounting the story of what
he'd just witnessed moments before. Alex knows that he'll have to give his own
statement, that he'll have to tell God and everyone that this wasn't the first
time and the thought makes his pulse race, air catching in his lungs as he
struggles to breathe.
"Hey, now. Easy, Alex." Ian's soothing voice is soft and warm in his ear and
Alex squeezes his eyes shut tight, trying to block out everything but his
voice. "Come on. Easy does it. Breathe with me."
Ian's breathing slows and evens beside him, his side expanding with each breath
that he takes and Alex is amazed at how soothing he finds it. He's even more
shocked at how easy it is for him to match his breathing to Ian's, to focus
solely on his friend sitting next to him and it's only a moment before his
breathing evens out and his pulse slows to normal. Alex slowly opens his eyes,
careful to look only at Ian as he nods his thanks, a hiccuping breath shaking
his whole body.
Johnson finishes his statement and suddenly it's Alex's turn,and he feels the
now familiar panic welling up inside of him as the cop settles into a kneeling
position at his feet. It's too close; Alex feels caged and he recoils, fingers
scrabbling over the faded fabric of the couch as he tries to pull himself into
a standing position on the cushions, intent on vaulting over the back to put
more distance between them. He needs space, needs to breathe.
But Ian is there again, saving the day as he places a calming hand on Alex's
back before he can fully pull himself upright and he leans into the cop, his
hand staying in contact with Alex like a lifeline, his voice a low murmur. Alex
can't hear what Ian is saying through the sound of his heart pounding in his
ears, but the cop just nods and backs up a few feet and suddenly the hand
around Alex's lungs is loosened and he can breathe again, the little dots
before his eyes vanishes with a few deep lungfuls of air.
"Alex." He's surprised to hear his name and he looks up, Ian's face swimming
into view. "Officer Saunders would like to speak to you. If you can, he'd like
to you to tell him everything that you can remember. Do you think you can do
that?"
Ian's voice is still calm and soothing and Alex wonders how he can have such
patience with him, when he's not making things easy by any means. Pulling his
legs up to his chest, Alex nods, hating the feeling of being so small and
vulnerable. Ian's shifted slightly on the couch and Alex feels cold where Ian's
body isn't touching his. He wants to reach out and grab Ian's hand and drag him
back to the van, wants to curl up on the bac kseat with blankets and Ian and
hide away from the rest of the world.
"Okay." Ian's encouraging smile makes something tight uncurl in Alex's chest
and he gives a tentative one back, taking a deep breath as he turns toward
Officer Saunders.
"Alex. Tell me about your relationship with Adam?"
His mouth is dry and his voice is unused, so it takes a few tries-Ian hands him
a bottle of water and Alex flashes him a grateful smile-but finally he's able
to recount his story, his voice ragged around the edges. He starts at the
beginning, from the moment he met Adam, to Pete's party, to now. His friends
gasp as he recounts the worst night of his life and Alex flinches and tears up,
remembering the pain and humiliation he felt and still feels. He pauses a few
times to collect himself, hands shaking and he can feel himself starting to
fall apart. But Ian's hand is right there at the small of his back, just enough
pressure to let Alex know he's still there but not enough to intrude on his
personal space. Alex is grateful and it's only Ian's comforting presence that
gets him through to the end.
Officer Saunders finishes writing down Alex's statement and then stands,
nodding. "Thank you, Mr. Marshall. That's more than enough information. Someone
will get in contact with you soon." With another nod, he's gone and Alex is
left alone in the dressing room with his band mates, his dirty laundry airing
out between them. He opens his mouth to apologize, to say something, but Cash
beats him to it and in a (surprising) display of emotion, he chokes on a sob
and launches himself at Alex, wrapping his arms around him.
"I'm so sorry I didn't notice! You shouldn't have had to go through that and
you certainly shouldn't have suffered alone." Alex can feel Singer and Johnson
settle in on his other sides, barely touching but already he can feel his skin
begin to crawl. He's not quite ready for full human contact but this is his
band; he can't push them away. He takes a deep breath and tentatively hugs Cash
back, awkwardly patting his back.
"'s not your fault, Cash. I had plenty of opportunities to tell you guys and I
didn't. You couldn't have possibly forced it out of me, even if you did see
through me. As for the party..." Alex trails off, closing his eyes against the
images the crash over him once again. "I can't expect you guys to babysit me. I
realized this afternoon that sober or not, Adam had his methods for getting me
where he wanted me. He was more than capable of overpowering me in here, and I
haven't had a drop to drink."
Alex sighs and trembles slightly at the thought of what could have happened,
again, if his band hadn't walked through the door. A silence falls over the
group as they sit there huddled, but Alex is mildly surprised to find it isn't
uncomfortable, but more reflective, each boy no doubt rolling the possibilities
of 'what if' through his head.
"Hey." It's Johnson's voice that breaks the silence and it almost catches Alex
off guard; he'd been expecting Ian's voice. "Tonight's a hotel night. Last one
to the van has to room with Singer."
There's sudden, frantic scrambling as everyone tries to get off the couch and
through the door at the same time, Singer's indignant "Hey!" squawking above
the noise. Alex smiles fondly at his band's retreating backs, falling behind a
little as he tries to collect himself. The slide of a palm against his own has
him looking up and there's Ian, with kind eyes and comforting warmth. Alex
gives Ian's hand a small squeeze, a tentative yet genuine smile on his lips
that Ian eagerly returns. As they leave the venue, Alex takes a deep breath of
fresh air and thinks that, yeah, things really are going to be okay.
                                   ♩*♩*♩*♩*♩
Epilogue:
Alex fiddles with his tie, fingers slipping over the soft silk, hands shaking.
He curses softly under his breath when he gets the knot wrong again, pulling it
out and attempting to start over. Long fingers come up from behind him and
gently move his own aside, deftly tying his tie properly. Alex looks into the
mirror, his eyes catching hazel-green ones. Ian sets his chin on Alex's
shoulder, arms sliding around his middle in a comforting squeeze. Relax.
"Relax, Alex. It's going to be okay. You're going to do great." Ian's voice is
soft and gentle and he never breaks eyes contact with Alex, one hand rubbing
circles on his stomach that, surprisingly, soothes the butterflies.
It's been three months since the day the police arrested Adam and though Alex
no longer flinches when someone touches him and the nightmares have eased, he's
still apprehensive about facing his attacker in court. He's well aware of the
statistics and that the victim usually knows the person that assaults them, but
it doesn't make it any easier to be a statistic. Alex trusted Adam and he
hasn't quite shaken the feeling that he could have prevented it. He's making
progress, though. He's got his friends and family to support him and most
importantly, he's got Ian, who's by his side and tells him every day, at least
once, how amazing he is and that it's not his fault. The wounds haven't healed
completely, but they're getting there.
Alex smiles wide and genuine, the first in a long, long time, and he turns in
Ian's arms, wrapping his own around the man in front of him. He presses a soft,
chaste kiss to Ian's lips, sparks of warmth shooting through his entire body
before he pulls back, resting his forehead against Ian's, smile still playing
on his lips. "I know."
                                   ♩*♩*♩*♩*♩
The courtroom is surprisingly full and Alex feels the butterflies come back in
full force. He's surprised to find his entire band sitting in the pews, his own
personal cheering squad and it fills him with indescribable warmth. He knows
that he shouldn't really be all the surprised-they're his best friends after
all-but he figures they all have plenty of things that they could be doing,
rather than sitting in a court room. Nonetheless, he's incredibly thankful and
he flashes them a grin-echoed by Cash's overly enthusiastic thumbs up-and the
butterflies in his stomach settle a little. Alex and Ian settle into their
chairs and Alex automatically reaches for Ian's hand, the common anchor he's
become accustomed to. Alex's lawyer nods at him once in greeting and Alex nods
back, taking a deep breath.
"All rise."
Alex stands, his hands shaking a little as the bailiff brings Adam in through
the side door, hands cuffed in front of him. Adam's eyes are trained to the
floor, but just as he passes in front of Alex, they raise to catch his own, a
smirking spreading over Adam's face. Alex shivers, instinctively recoiling
slightly, but Ian just puts a reassuring hand on his lower back-Easy, I've got
you- and Alex doesn't have to look at him to know that he's glaring severely in
Adam's direction.
They settle back into the pews, the idle murmur of chatter fading as the judge
bangs his gavel against the solid wood.
"This court is now in session."
Alex feels nervous and his palms start sweating, so much so that he's wiping
his hands on his pants every few minutes. His eyes haven't left Adam's face and
he's not sure what he's looking for, but he can't stamp down the flair of
disappointment at the lack of remorse. He figures that he should have known
better; men like Adam don't feel anything for anyone outside of themselves.
Still, Alex had held out hope that maybe, just maybe, Adam was different.
Swallowing back the bile and onslaught of tears he can feel building, Alex
wipes his palms on his slacks again, taking a deep breath. He exhales slowly
when Ian reaches over and retakes claim of his hand, giving him yet another
squeeze. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. Alex squeezes back-Thank you-
and turns his head slightly towards Ian, flashing him a small, delicate smile.
He isn't going to lose his shit over this, he's not. There's cops and plenty of
people to keep Adam away from him but it's hard, knowing that he's only a few
feet away and eyeing Alex like he's tonight's dinner.
"The plaintiff would like to call Alexander Thomas Marshall to the stand." Alex
comes crashing back to reality at that and he blinks for a moment, gathering
his surroundings before he swallows and stands, making his way up front to
where the bailiff is waiting to swear him in. He'd forgotten about his
testimony. He holds up his right hand as instructing, nodding in confirmation
to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. When he's finished, he
settles into the witness stand and places his hands nervously in his lap. He
refuses to look at Adam, even though he can feel the other man's eyes on him.
"Mr. Marshall?" Alex looks over at the lawyer that is set to be representing
him, focusing only on him. Once he's sure that he has Alex's attention, the
lawyer, Mr. Thomson, continues. "Mr. Marshall, can you recount the events
leading up to Mr. Wright's arrest for the jury?"
Alex swallows and wipes his hands on his pants, catching Ian's eye, who gives
him a thumb's up in return. "We hired Adam as a drum tech about six months ago.
He was friendly and eager and he always had the equipment tuned and ready on
time. He was one of the best techs we'd ever had, actually. For the most part,
he seemed really shy and kept to himself. We got along pretty well and I
answered any of the questions he had. We weren't like, best friends or
anything, but we got hung out occasionally and I was teaching him guitar."
"Did Mr. Wright go to parties with you guys usually?"
Alex shakes his head, frowning. "No, not really. For as easily as he got along
with everyone, despite his seemingly shy nature, he never went to tour parties,
even when it was just the road crew and us. He always begged out, deciding to
go read a book or something." Alex shrugs a little and resists the urge to
chance a glance at Adam. "I never questioned it; plenty of people aren't in to
that kind of scene, so it didn't seem like a big deal."
"So you were surprised to see him at Pete's party on June 7th."
"Yeah, I was. I mean, I was glad he'd decided to come and all, but yeah, I was
surprised. I don't remember him drinking, which, I guess didn't surprise me
much since that wasn't his scene and all, but I was pretty drunk, so I could
have missed a drink in his hand." Alex swallows, taking a drink of water from
the glass at his side.
"Mr. Marshall, can you tell me what happened at Pete's party." An involuntary
shiver runs down his spine and Alex has to close his eyes for a moment to
ground himself. Even though his band knows and he's had to tell his story at
least three times, it doesn't get any easier, make the memories any less vivid.
"Adam came up to me and we started talking. As I said before, I'd had a few
beers, more than a few. The music was loud and there was a ton of people there.
I was feeling a little overwhelmed and thinking of finding someone to take me
home when Adam showed up. We kept talking and then decided to move somewhere
where we could just talk, but not have to yell over the music and loud voices."
Alex closes his eyes again, fingers gripping his legs tightly, knuckles turning
white. If there was one thing out of all of this that he remembers in precise
detail, it's the events that took place next. "I don't know where he got the
idea that I was interested in more than talking, but next thing I knew, he had
his mouth all over me. I pushed him away and tried to walk away, but he seemed
to think that was me playing hard to get."
Alex pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart. Behind
his closed lids, he can see the scene playing out in front of him and it makes
something twist tightly in his stomach. "I p-pushed." He pauses again,
gathering his thoughts and nerves, wishing that Ian was still holding his hand.
"I pushed him away again and that's when he got angry. He started advancing
towards me and I ducked under his arm to run to the door. He tackled me from
behind and I hit the dresser on the way down. It was just the advantage he
needed and even though I tried to fight back, it was hard when I was so dizzy
and it made it easy for him to overpower me. I tried to scream but he
backhanded me to shut me." Alex looks down at his lap, wishing fervently that
this was all over already.
"H-He threw me on the bed and pulled off my clothing. He kept touching my.
Touching my." For some reason, Alex can't get the word to come out and he
gestures vaguely to his crotch. His lawyer seems to take pity on him and just
nods, "Continue, Mr. Marshall."
"I think he though that eventually I'd get into it. And then he. Took me. No
lube. No preparation. It was liking being ripped apart from the inside out."
Alex stops then, because he can't go on, physically and emotionally; he'd
passed out anyway. There was nothing more to tell. He looks down at his hand
when he feels a warm drop fall onto it and he's surprised to find that he's
been crying all this time.
"Thank you, your honor. No more questions."
Alex sighs, relieved, but it's short lived when Adam's attorney stood up and
approached the bench. "Mr. Marshall, is it?" Alex nods and the attorney nods
and 'hm's to himself. "Mr. Marshall, tell me about your relationship with Mr.
Wright."
Alex frowns, not really sure what else there is to tell that he hasn't already
said. His lawyer seems to agree. "Objection your honor! My client has already
stated his relationship with the accused."
"Sustained."
The attorney just shrugs and moves onto his next question, clearly nonplussed.
"Mr. Marshall, you say that your relationship with Mr. Wright was amicable,
yes? Prior to the incident on June 7th?"
"Yes, that's right."
"Were you and Mr. Wright romantically involved in any way?"
"What? No!" Alex's eyes are wide and he lean forward, his hands tightening on
his chair as he shakes his head. "No, we were never involved romantically. I
wasn't interested."
"Yet, several witnesses saw your guys fight just days before the party, an
apparent break up and then you snuck away together at the party after spending
nearly an hour tucked away in a corner getting cozy."
Blood boils in his Alex's veins and he can feel his face getting red with
anger. "Objection your honor. That's irrelevant to the case."
"Overrruled."
"I don't know who you're getting your facts from, but they're wrong." Alex
shakes his head, his words clipped and bitter. "Adam and I did get into a
disagreement, but it wasn't a fight and it certainly wasn't a break up. He'd
approached me because he wanted something more, something romantic. I kindly
declined, stating that I was interested and that I was really looking for a
relationship, especially when I'm on tour. In a last ditch effort to try and
change my mind, he leaned in and kissed me. I shoved him away and told him that
I wasn't interested and no matter how many times he kissed me, that wasn't
going to change. I stormed off and went to cool off. I don't know where Adam
went or what he told anyone else. I never asked."
"Let me ask you, Mr. Marshall. If Adam had forced himself on you before, why
would you be so willing to spend time talking to him or go into a room away
from other people to be alone with him?"
Alex wants to deck this man so hard and his fingers curl themselves into fists
as he tries to bite his tongue from saying something he'll end up regretting.
"Adam approached me that night before the show and apologized for his actions.
He said he didn't know what came over him and that it was foolish of him to try
and jeopardize our friendship that way. He seemed earnest and honest enough, so
I forgave him. I didn't realize that one kiss would lead to more."
"No more questions your honor." The attorney looks a little defeated and when
Alex looks at the judge, she's raising her eyebrow at him. She nods at him and
he stands, making his way back over to Ian, sitting down shakily next to him.
Even though he feels like he's been through the wringer three times over,
there's still the underlying feeling of relief. Ian's hand slips into his under
the table and Alex relaxes immediately, giving Ian a reassuring squeeze, I'm
okay. Ian grins at him, small but no less brilliant and Alex can feel the
warmth from it spread all the way through him.
"There will be a ten minute recess while the jury decides their verdict." The
judge bangs her gavel again and Ian and Alex stand together, fingers still
loosely linked as they make their way out of the courtroom to where their
friends are waiting. He's immediately pulled into a three way hug and Alex lets
himself be pressed against his band mates, clinging to them as he lets the last
of the nerves drain away. When they pull away, Alex smiles at his friends,
suddenly really thankful for their presence.
"Dude. You did awesome up there, Marsh. I can't believe that attorney, though.
Who the hell was he getting sources from?!" Alex hid a small smile as Singer
placed a calming hand on Cash's back and whispered something softly in his ear
that had Cash deflating and his fists uncurling. Alex sighs and shrugs,
stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"I don't know, but obviously, he didn't have his facts straight."
"Hey guys. We've got two minutes." Ian's voice was soft, as was his hand
against Alex's lower back, a constant reminder of how good Ian had been to him
throughout this whole ordeal. Alex is extremely grateful to Ian for all of his
patience and understanding and he isn't sure that he expressed that enough,
though he is pretty sure that Ian already knows. He's kind of perceptive that
way. They make their way back into the courtroom and settle back into their
respective seats as the court is called to order again.
"In the case of Marshall v. Wright, the defendant pleads not guilty. Jury, what
is your verdict."
The kaleidoscope of butterflies in Alex's stomach grew as a pretty African-
American woman stood, paper in hand, clearing her throat softly.
"Today, on the 6th day of September, in the case of Marshall v. Wright, we, the
jury find the defendant-" For Alex, it seems like she pauses for years, though
it's only for a brief second or two. "-guilty."
The courtroom erupts into noise and thunderous applause, people jumping up and
hugging each other all around him, but Alex just stays in his chair, staring
straight ahead as the news slowly registers in his brain. He feels dizzy with
relief and the rush of his nerves disappearing. The judge is banging her gavel
and calling for order in the court so that she can sentence Adam, but no one
seems to be paying her any heed and eventually, she gives up. His ears are
ringing and he's aware of more than one congratulatory clap on his back and he
manages a small smile for each of them, but he's still reeling with the news.
"Hey." Alex looks up and is unsurprised to see Ian's warm eyes looking into
his, concern underlying the happiness shying in them. "We won." His voice is
soft, so Ian-like and Alex snaps out of the daze he was in, nodding slowly.
"I'm. It's really over, isn't it? We won." Ian grins wide and brilliant and for
a moment, Alex is reeling from the sheer beauty of it, but then he's grinning
too, easy and free. Lacing their fingers together, Alex leans in and presses
his lips to Ian's, kissing him with firm, closed lips. It wasn't much, but it
was a step in the right direction, a promise of more. Pulling back, Alex tugs
Ian up so they can go rejoin their friends and celebrate Alex's new-found
freedom. As they walk down the courthouse steps into the bright afternoon
sunlight, Alex squeezes Ian's hand three times-I love you.
Alex's grin rivals the sun when he receives four squeezes in return.
fin.
End Notes
     originally posted at justranda/nothinginfinite on livejournal.
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