Absolution II: Redemption

Disclaimer: The female characters in this chapter are mine, Seifer belongs to Square-Enix, and the anime briefly referenced is the property of Sunrise (I believe).

Warning: Yes, I feel the need to bold that because of what’s contained in this chapter. If pedophilia squicks you, do not read. If you read despite not liking it, don’t flame me. It’s not pointless, glorified shotakon, there is a reason I’m writing it. There’s also angst. Still with me?

Behind the fake family image,
behind the smile of a thousand moms and dads,
inside the cage that we've been given,
I see an image of the future that we don't have.
~ Smile Empty Soul – Nowhere Kids
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Dammit, dammit, dammit. Just when I think things are going perfectly fine and there’s a chance of me getting my head screwed on right for a change, something like that completely fucked up dream comes along to send me right back to where I used to be. Is Ultimecia still inside my head somehow; toying with me for daring to try and forget about her?

I’m still the knight I used to be, I’ll never say what I did for her was wrong. But there are more important things on my mind now. Like making SeeD. This is the last chance I’ll have to succeed at something and I don’t want to fuck up yet another thing in life. Giving in to fear would be admitting defeat.

Hyne, it’s weird to think about how damn easy it was to go back to my old way of being as soon as I had Squall around to push me again. Guess I needed him. Need him, present tense. And not just for the sex, though that’s definitely a plus. He makes me sane. I did tell him about the dream or whatever it was, but he was smart enough not to comment.

Okay, enough introspective babble. Time to see if there’s anything good on TV since Battle Skills is canceled today. One less class to go to means more time to be bored out of my mind.

Chick flick, news, talk show, some stupid cartoon about bounty hunters…why is there never anything good on when I want to watch TV? Just before I turn off the infernal thing, the noise in my head starts up again. Shit, I don’t want to have another weird experience. I really don’t need this shit right now. Gotta stay awake, gotta keep myself focused…on…something….

++++++++++++

“Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Seifer, happy birthday to you.” The boy smiles at his mother, several gaps visible where baby teeth have either fallen or been punched out, and blows out the five candles arranged in a circle on the small cake. I’s five today. Gotta start bein’ a big kid so Mommy don’t hurt me no more.

Here we go again. What kind of insanity will I get to see this time?

The mean voice again….

She hands him a few wrapped packages and he tears open the first one excitedly, nearly squeaking with glee once he sees what’s underneath the paper.

“A toy gunblade! Mommy, how’d you know I wanted it?” he asks with his head cocked to the side. Last year, they hadn’t done anything for his birthday and today is all the more special in his mind because of that.

The woman, who hasn’t had a drink all day, messes up her son’s hair and smiles at him. “You keep telling me that the boy down the street has one and I thought you’d like your own.”

Okay, what’s the catch? Something has to be going on. Psycho bitch ain’t nice for nothin'

It doesn’t take long for the other presents – a large teddy bear, several movies, and new clothes – to be opened. Seifer, though, seems to be mostly interested in the fake weapon. He runs outside to play with it, disregarding the cake and his mother’s cry of, “Get your little ass back in the house.”

In the boy’s mind, it’s much safer to be playing in his neighbor’s yard. She doesn’t yell at him for climbing trees, stomping in muddy patches, or running around and pretending to kill things like the people he watches on TV. His mom might hit him for being all dirty when he comes back, but in the backyard next door, he can just play like any other kid.

Today, she’s sitting on her porch and watching him as he pretends that the trees are Galbadian soldiers and they’ve come to attack the sorceress he’s protecting. On the news, they say that the Esthar people, the ones with a sorceress controlling them, are bad. But in the stories he’s read, that’s not true. His young mind has decided that the people on TV must be wrong. A pretty sorceress like the ones in books can’t be bad.

Wish she was my mommy. She wouldn’t hit me all the time and I’d get to have lotsa fun.

Kid, your mom is a crazy bitch. Report her or something.

He waves at the young woman after a bit and heads over to talk to her. Sometimes, she gives him food and since today’s his birthday, there might be something else waiting for him inside.

“I’m five today, ‘Nessa,” Seifer tells her, another, more genuinely happy, gap-toothed smile on his face.

She nods and hugs him lightly. “Did your mom get you that toy gunblade? I was going to get you the exact same thing.”

“Yep, she did. But she was mean again last night and I got cutted.” He tugs up his right shorts leg and shows her the jagged gouge running down the outside of his knee. “Got pushed into the nail stickin’ out of the wall.”

What the fuck? That mark looks kinda familiar for some reason. But this ain’t real. It’s just a weird dream. Not real, not real, it can’t creep me out. This is just some twisted shit in my head.

Vanessa hugs him again, picks him up, and carries him inside. “Well, I’ve got something to put on that so it doesn’t hurt as much. Do you have any other cuts or bruises?” The concern in her voice sounds a little different that usual, but Seifer’s not able to pay much attention to that at the moment. He’s just happy that she’s taking care of him. In silent reply, he nods at the question and motions at his back.

She kisses his cheek before setting him down on the couch and lifting up his shirt to look him over. Black and blue splotches cover the area between his shoulder blades while a rainbow of older injuries line the lower portion of his spine. Seifer whines as she runs her fingers over them, bites his lip, and tries not to cry though he’s been told more than once that he can do that here.

It's safe here.

It’s no big deal to have his shirt off for an ice pack to be applied; Vanessa’s done that many times since he started escaping to her home. Today, though, he visibly tenses when she goes to tug down his shorts, claiming the need to look for any other cuts or bruises. “You gonna let me take pictures? I can take them to someone who’ll get you away from your mom and into a nice family….”

No more mean Mommy? I could live with nice people? Wonder what that’d be like.…

Take her up on the offer, kid. Believe me.

“O-Okay,” the boy stammers hesitantly as he pulls his knees to his chest. Being nearly nude around someone other than his mother, no matter what she’s done to him throughout his young life, makes him feel uncomfortable.

Seifer allows her to look over and photograph every bruise and cut on his body. He has no reason to doubt her or to think she has anything other than his best interests in mind, but there’s an uneasy feeling in the bottom of his belly.

She almost looked like Mommy when she went to get the camera. But she’s a nice person. She likes me. She don't hurt me. Don’t gotta be scared of her.

A light touch to his inner thigh catches him off guard and he pulls away, eyes wide. “Why do you gotta do that?” he asks in a quiet voice. If it were anyone else, he’d be protesting the fact that his underwear are being tugged around his knees. But this is Vanessa, the person who’s going to save him from his not-too-nice mom.

“I have to see if there are any other marks on you to take pictures of,” she states with clinical precision. There’s nothing to see, but he lets her look anyway since that’s what he’s supposed to be doing and he has no reason to disobey and make her mad.

When her gaze lingers on him for just a little too long, he feels that same feeling in his belly and he looks up at her with uncertainty and confusion visible on his face. “Stop lookin’ at me like that…you look like Mommy,” he mumbles and quickly lowers his head. Now she’s gonna be mad at me. I hope she doesn’t hit me like Mommy.

She doesn’t look or sound mad and Seifer’s pretty happy to note that. “You know I’m not gonna hurt you. I wanna show you how special you are to me. This is gonna stay our little secret, right?” As Vanessa keeps looking at him, she brushes her hand across his inner thigh a few times, then slides it up and gently strokes his small penis.

Run, now. That’s not right to do and you need to get away, kid. She’s even worse than your mom is.

It feels kinda icky…want her to stop. . You’re not ‘pposed ta touch somebody’s private place.

But he’s finding it hard to speak right now, much less move as her hand keeps up its slow motions while the other undoes her own fly and skims down inside her pants. Eww, what’s she doin’? That looks gross and her hand feels weird. ‘Nessa, stop touchin’ me. I wanna go home now; even if Mommy is gonna hurt me again.

Seifer’s eyes well up with tears as he lies there, confused and disgusted by what’s being done to him and too scared of being hurt worse to just get up and leave. Only part of his mind notices that his body is reacting in a strange way to the firm, constantly moving grip; his penis has gotten hard and every extra touch makes him feel even stranger.

Wide hazel eyes, their vision blurry, remain glued to the unknown expression on Vanessa’s face once she drops her hand from his body and continues touching herself. Why’s she still doing that? It’s weird lookin’ at her. I don’t like her face like that.

I have never been gladder to be completely gay.

What’s that mean? I’m scared…everybody’s mean to me. Maybe I should start being mean to them right back

Another long moment passes with him being scared. Fear slowly turns into anger inside him and his body stiffens up, as if there’s something possessing him with the willpower to fight back. As he’s about to roll off the couch, a hand firmly grabs his lower torso, halting his motion.

“I won’t give those pictures to anyone if you run away now. You’ll have to stay with your mom and let her keep hurting you every time she drinks too much. And you don’t want that to happen, do you?” The new tone in her voice is dark and scares Seifer into going nearly limp and allowing the touch to begin once more. Her threat scares him worse than the feeling of extreme discomfort he’s enduring.

The tears he was working hard to hold back roll down his cheeks as he again begins to struggle. I gotta be mean to the people that hurt me or they ain’t gonna stop. . Be big, bad ‘n mean ‘n they gotta leave me alone.

That’s right, kiddo. Hurt them before they can hurt you and you’ll be just fine in life. Wait a second, didn’t I remember hearing that when I was a kid, too? Weird.

Seifer kicks out a couple of times and manages to hit Vanessa’s breast with his bony heel. As she winces and loosens her grip momentarily, he kicks again and again, screaming to let out his frustration at being helpless to stop most of what’s been done to him. But he’s trying to be strong now, if only long enough to escape.

He falls to the floor, tugs up his underwear, and grabs for his shorts blindly. Luckily, he finds them on the first try and pulls them on before darting out the door.

Gotta hide, gotta get away so nobody can hurt me no more. No more Mom, no more Nessa. Gonna find a good Mommy and Daddy, ones that don’t hit me or touch me in icky places.

+++++++++++

As soon as I come to, I run to the bathroom and throw up violently until nothing but bitter bile is coming up. That was the vilest thing I have ever dreamed, even when I was sleeping fucked up on drugs. Why would I dream about a boy being molested? Never heard a story even close to resembling that.

Thinking about it makes me just vomit again, so I try to clear my head by changing into something more relaxed. A faint scar on the outside of my right leg catches my attention and a chill runs down my spine. Holy fucking shit! The scar matches the cut I saw in that dream; we have the same name and the same color eyes…. Sweet Hyne, I was the one being taken advantage of.

This time, I can’t even make it back to the toilet and I puke more bile over the carpet after my legs give out. Not a dream, it was my past. Means that the last time wasn’t a dream either and my mom was a drunk, abusive cunt. Shit, that can’t be true. I can’t believe that was my past! If it’s true, how in the hell did I get to the orphanage and then Garden? A chill runs over me, leaving me feeling more fragile than old glass.

Footprints next to me make me jump as I begin to sob. Squall’s hand runs across the back of my neck and I feel him sitting down next to me.

“What happened, Seifer? Talk to me,” he says softly while an arm drapes around my waist. It’s too much like the sickening dreams – or should I call them flashbacks? – and I pull away as soon as it hits me.

He blinks, but just watches as I move away and curl up on the bed. “Remember that dream I told you about? Wasn’t a dream, it was fucking real," I mutter, more nausea coming over me at the very thought. "Had another one today and it made me puke as soon as I woke up. It was my fifth birthday and the neighbor I went to when my mom was being too mean fucking groped me while she played with herself.

“I couldn’t do a damn thing about it other than be inside my own damn head and try telling the kid - me - to get away as soon as possible. He could hear me, I think, which was really fucked up.”

Squall whispers a name that I can’t hear until he repeats himself a bit louder. “Ellone. Sis…she can send people’s minds to the past. Remember, that’s why you and Ultimecia were trying to get her. It has to be her doing that to you, Seifer. That's the only way the you in the past could hear your remarks. Dunno why, but I’ll help you find out.”

The same touch that made me flinch earlier is relaxing this time, even though my head is still spinning and I want to puke again. Probably will as soon as I eat anything. Is this Ellone’s sick way of getting revenge on me for trying to capture her or something? Guess I’ll find out when I go with Squall to ask. Stupid bitch, all women have ever done to me is cause trouble – my mother, that Vanessa asswipe, Ultimecia, Mattie, and now Ellone.
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A/N: I think this fic is getting close to its end. I’m not sure how many more chapters there will be, but I’m guessing not more than a handful. I still crave feedback, so give me love, hate or indifference. I love knowing what you readers think.

Review responses:

eerian sadow – Fans are nice to have; don’t be silent as much anymore, though. *Thwaps*

Brittny – I continued. Glad you’re enjoying it.