The Academy: Uncaged

3. The Prodigal Son

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of rape/non-consensual sex, graphic descriptions of rape/non-consensual sex.

Idea Man Reacts: I wanted Chris to beat his mfing assssss, but Desiree said no. We can't have him in jail, Amelia needs him. Also, the scandals... I need a hug from the Doc and Priscilla... at the SAME TIME. We love strong female characters. Mommy... Sorry... ikykyk

Christopher

It was early when Christopher made it back to the Academy. And by early, he meant that the world was hardly awake. The sun had just started to crest the horizon when he drove onto the main campus and parked his car in one of the parking lots in the small towns. Katherine didn't stay with him very long. She said that she was in desperate need of both her bed and her submissive, so she left. Christopher didn't mind. Honestly, he could use the alone time to collect himself before going to see Amelia. Besides, it was too damn early to bother waking her. She was always so adamant about sleeping in, so who was he to wake her early on a weekend? A Sunday, no doubt. He didn't think she'd mind a few extra stops on his part while he took the time to clear his head. He didn't think she'd mind him picking up a box of doughnuts and flowers, either.

Granted, the two extra stops only took him around twenty minutes, so Amelia really wasn't going to get to sleep in regardless.

But the walk back got him thinking. As he made his way down the hallway to their apartment, his duffel slung over his shoulder and the flowers and doughnuts in his hands, his mind raced with thoughts of the beautiful girl waiting for him. Anticipation bubbled inside of him. There was a certain giddy feeling that was quickly overpowering the entirety of him. He hadn't realized just how much he missed her on that drive home with Katherine. He hadn't realized how happy she made him feel until they were apart for a few days. But love seemed to work that way.

As he grew closer, he found himself singing an oldie. Simon & Garfunkel. It started off as a light hum, but as he jammed his key in the door of the apartment, and as he swung it open and walked through the foyer, lyrics poured from his lips in that same lilt that Amelia seemed to love.

"Oh, Amelia," he sang, replacing the original lyrics with her name. Because why not? Why not do something corny and cute like normal couples would do. He walked toward the living room. "I'm down on my knees."

His eyes found her sitting on the couch and on a first glance, his heart soared. God, how he'd missed her.

"I'm begging you please..." And then, he really looked at her. He looked at her and saw carnage. "To... come... home..."

The lyrics died off on his lips and his mouth sat open as he took full stock of just who was sitting before him. It was the same girl he'd grown to love. There was no doubt about that, but to say that she was the same as how he'd left her was impossible. She didn't look like Amelia at all. Those first thirty seconds granted him a window of insight that he wished he didn't have to see.

The most startling change was her hair - or rather, the lack thereof. Gone were her dark, chocolate locks. In their place was a choppy, buzzed look that didn't at all look professional. His first thought was, did she do this to herself? But the thought was quickly dismissed as other details popped to the forefront of his consciousness. The dark circles under her eyes. Her huddled, shaking posture. There were bruises littering her skin. Around her eyes, her neck, her arms, wrists, and ankles. There were so many that Christopher couldn't count. He saw more bruises than pale skin. And where her skin wasn't bruised, it was lacerated. She had small cuts all over the place where her skin couldn't take... whatever had happened to her. The biggest cut of them all was the split on her lip that on her lip.