Broken Doll {ManxMan}

Chapter 50.2 *special*

[[Demi's POV]]

Memories were a fickle thing. It was impossible to consciously decide what you remembered and what you didn't. Whether those memories were hidden away through trauma, disinterest, or the fact the memory had no impact on you, you never decided, and you could never choose how or when those memories would resurface. Sometimes it seemed the harder you tried to remember something, the more it slipped away. Maybe that was why I forgot what happened after I was first kidnapped.

Of course, I could never forget what Blu did to me, sometimes I wish I could, but what I remember as I dragged my feet down the hall was waking up in that bed after the fact, curled onto my side with one of the sheets pulled over me, my face buried in the mattress and my body shaking. My skin burned, I felt nauseous, and when the door opened I nearly retched.

"Kid." A hand touched my shoulder and I flinched hard. "Sh, it's okay. I'm trying to help you. You probably want to clean up. Can you stand?"

I couldn't stop shaking as I moved my arm to peer up at the man next to me. He was on the young side with red hair and green eyes. His eyes were what drew me to him, because they weren't like Blu's. They were so soft, and I sat up slowly, despite how I winced hard. The pain had me shaking worse, and he reached out to wrap the sheet tighter around me before picking me off the bed effortlessly. 

There was a second door in the room, which he pushed open with his foot before carrying me into the bathroom beyond.

"Just don't move, that'll make things worse." He set me down so he could turn the water on, and I watched him fearfully, my eyes flickering around in panic.

"Come on, get in." He held an arm out, and when I didn't move he just sighed and stepped over to me, helping me into the tub but letting me cling pathetically to the sheet so I could hide myself.

The warm water was a blessing, and I started to relax as the man sat on the edge of the tub and set a hand in my hair.

"I was asked to clean you up, and to talk to you."

I didn't understand why. "Who are you? Who are any of you? What do you want with me?!" My eyes burned and I curled into a tighter ball. "I just want to go home!"

Something in his eyes seemed to break, and he pet my hair back. "I know how you feel. I want to go home too. If I had answers for you, I would give them to you, but not even I know what's going on. I'm just here to tell you how to survive. Just stay silent, stay in the back, stay in this bedroom. If you leave the room, stay behind me, I'll do my best to keep their attention away from you."

I was shaking my head, reaching out to cling to his shirt, whispering. "I just want to go home."

He looked agonized. "I'm sorry. One day… one day I know you will. Until then, just survive. You can do that much. You're a strong kid. You can make it."

Back then, before we docked the boat, we were stuck sailing in international waters for so many months I lost track. Carter was somewhat different back then, before we started my training. He would bring me food, talk to me, make sure I was sleeping and bathing, and he would let me cry. He would lock the door and hug me so I could cry against him until I couldn't breathe.

He was young himself back then, he'd just turned eighteen when they kidnapped me. He was as much a kid as I was, and he took charge of me because he seemed to empathize with the fear I felt. Even after Blu would pin me down and hurt me that way, Carter never treated me like I was disgusting or any less. He just comforted me, diligently took care of me.

After the training started, he became stricter and harsher, but there were still those moments when he would pet a hand through my hair, tug my shirt collar up to keep me warm, even bring me treats like cakes or candy, whispering to eat them fast so Blu didn't catch me.