Title : Within These Walls, Chapter 10 of 30
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Stephen, Ryan, Danny, Ditzy
Disclaimer : Not mine (except the OCs), no money made, don’t sue.
Word Count : 59,000 words in 30 chapters of approx. 1,500 – 2,500 words each
Spoilers : None
Warning : Aftermath of rape.
Summary : Ending up in Dartmoor prison for refusing to recant their belief in evolution is only the start of the problems facing Nick, Stephen and Connor. And Sir James Lester soon ends up with other problems on his hands than just an over-crowded prison population.
A/N : For acknowledgments etc please see Part 1
“Get the fuck out of here!”
From his position curled up on the floor of the shower room, Stephen heard the soldier barking orders, barely restrained anger in his voice. Knowing his luck, the man would want to be in line for seconds.
Stephen tried to push himself up off the cold tiles, knowing he’d been a bloody idiot to have disregarded Quinn’s warnings and not wanting to look the man – or anyone else, for that matter – in the face. He had started to shake violently and slid on the wet floor. Quinn’s hands gripped him under the arms and heaved him up into a sitting positing. The towel that had been thrown over him slid to the ground, leaving Stephen naked and vulnerable. Quinn grabbed it and draped it back over him.
“Thanks,” Stephen murmured.
The black-uniformed soldier went down on one knee next to him. Stephen recognised him as the captain who had supervised their arrival the previous day, after his first run in with the guard who only a few minutes ago had been so obviously eager to take his turn fucking him.
“How badly are you hurt?” the soldier asked him, talking to Stephen in the sort of voice he would probably have used on a frightened dog. “My name’s Ryan and just so you know, rape isn’t my idea of fun.”
“I’ll live,” Stephen said between gritted teeth, trying to ignore the burning pain in his arse and the bitter feeling of humiliation.
“We’ll let the medic be the judge of that,” Ryan said. He held his hand down to Stephen and helped Quinn haul him to his feet. The man’s grip was firm and Stephen felt the gun calluses on his palm. “You’d better put your boiler suit back on. I don’t imagine you want to walk to the medical bay with just a towel around your waist.” The soldier switched his attention to Quinn. “Help him.”
“I can manage,” Stephen said, but the way his hands shook belied his words. With Quinn’s assistance, he pulled on the orange one-piece suit, stuffed his underwear and socks into the pockets, picked up his teeshirt and shoved his bare feet into the prison-issue trainers, but straightening out the elastic straps was beyond him. Bending down hurt. In fact everything hurt.
With Quinn still at his side, Stephen managed to follow Ryan down a long series of corridors and through numerous locked doors until they reached the prison’s medical bay. The soldier-medic who had conducted the full body search the previous day was sitting behind a desk entering some data onto a computer. He looked up as they entered and rolled his eyes when he saw the state of Stephen’s face.
“It didn’t take you long to get into trouble, mate, did it?” The medic stood up and jerked his head in the direction of a side room. “Come on.”
“He’s had Gordie Fraser’s cock up his arse,” Ryan commented as the door closed behind them. “And he didn’t look happy about it.”
The medic rolled his eyes. “Can’t imagine anyone would be too happy about that. OK, sunshine, get your kit off and let’s see how much damage he’s done.” He glanced at Danny Quinn and asked, “Do you want him to stay?”
Stephen hesitated, not wanting Quinn to witness his further humiliation, but also aware of the fact that the man had come to his aid, although if the soldiers decided to take advantage of him in any way, Quinn’s presence wouldn’t be any help to him.
Seeing his hesitation, the medic took charge and made the decision for him. “Wait outside the door, Quinn.”
Quinn shot Stephen a sympathetic glance. From what he’d said to Stephen that morning, it was clear he knew what Stephen had gone through, but alongside Stephen’s pain was a sharp pang of embarrassment at having been stupid enough to disregard Quinn’s warnings.
As the door closed behind Quinn, Ryan said, “Jackson was just about to take a turn, Ditz.”
“Tell me something new,” the man called Ditz said with obvious distaste. “This is the second time this week I’ve patched someone up when he’s been tag-teaming with Fraser. Are you going to talk to Lester about it?”
“If I can get him on his own without Leek there, yes. I’ll want a report from you.”
The medic nodded, then said to Stephen, “OK, sunshine, get your kit off again.” As Stephen fumbled with the buttons on his orange suit, the man took a blister pack of tablets out of a cupboard, popped two out and poured a glass of water. “Take these; they’ll help with the pain.”
Naked and self-conscious under the two men’s dispassionate gaze, Stephen swallowed the tablets and washed them down with a gulp of water, pleased to note that his hands weren’t shaking quite as badly as they had been doing. The medic checked out his split and bitten lip that already felt swollen to twice its normal size and smeared on some cool gel that almost immediately brought some relief from the pain. How the calm, reassuring medic had managed to earn a nickname like Ditzy, Stephen couldn’t imagine, as it seemed a long way from the truth. The man carefully probed Stephen’s ribs and the rest of his body for damage, earning himself a sharp intake of breath as his cold fingers pressed on the already purpling bruise on his abdomen where someone had kicked him.
“You might have a cracked rib, but there’s bugger all I can do about that. I’ll try to keep you off any heavy work for a few weeks. OK, that’s the easy bit done.” Ditzy pulled a long strip of coarse paper off a dispenser on the wall and laid it down on the narrow examination bed. “On your front. I’ll try not to make this any worse than it already is, and remember, I’ve already had my fingers up your arse, so it’s nothing new for either of us.”
Stephen dredged up a grin from somewhere and manoeuvred himself carefully onto the bed, feeling an unwelcome stab of pain from his ribs. Jesus, he’d been in Dartmoor barely 24 hours and he’d already managed to get beaten up and raped. Not the most auspicious of starts. He heard the all too familiar snap of a pair of latex gloves being pulled on and then a pair of surprisingly gentle hands parted his arse cheeks. Stephen heard the sharp intake of breath normally associated with garage mechanics and plumbers when dealing with a customer.
“Gordie’s a big sod,” Ditzy remarked in an incongruously conversational tone of voice. “Got a dick like a bloody flagpole. OK, hold onto your hat, I’m going in. I need to take some swabs first for tests, then I’m going to use some antiseptic gel. It’ll feel cold, but it shouldn’t sting too much. The object of the exercise is to numb your arse a bit, like I did with your lip.”
As Ditzy gave his running commentary, Stephen felt a slick finger slip inside his body followed by something that felt like a small spatula. It fucking hut and he had a hard job stifling a yelp. A second swab was taken and then the finger probed gently, smearing the gel inside him. He tried to cut his mind off from the humiliation of knowing the medic was holding his arse cheeks open with the fingers of one hand while liberally coating the inside of his body with antiseptic with the other. Stephen closed his eyes and did his best to relax, trying to shut out the knowledge that Captain Ryan was watching them. Stephen was learning the hard way that there was no privacy in prison and that Dartmoor was a very different environment to the remand centre.
Another liberal smear of gel around his arse crack finished the proceedings.
“There’s some tearing,” Ditzy told him, stripping off the gloves and washing his hands at the small sink. “But all things considered, you got off quite lightly. It’ll hurt like fuck when you take a crap for the next week or so but do us all a favour and no straining, OK? If the painkillers bung you up, let me know and I’ll give you a laxative. You’ll need to see me twice a day for painkillers and antibiotics. If there’s a lockdown, I’ll come to you, otherwise see me after breakfast and dinner until I say otherwise, OK?”
Stephen got down carefully from the bed and pulled on his underwear and clothes. Another round of tablets followed.
“Take five minutes by yourself,” Ryan said quietly. “Then Quinn can take you back to the wing.” The soldier hesitated and then added, “With your looks, you won’t find it easy in here. My men won’t stand for this sort of thing, but we can’t be everywhere at once. Quinn knows his way around the place. Listen to him and you won’t go too far wrong.”
Stephen managed to meet the man’s eyes and nod. He’d experienced at first hand the consequences of ignoring good advice. He wouldn’t make that mistake twice. He’d always had a suspicion that he wouldn’t get out of prison without an experience like the one he’d just been through and if Quinn could seemingly put it behind him, so could he. Cutter wouldn’t be happy and would use it as an excuse to heap more burning coals of guilt onto his own head, but Stephen knew perfectly well he had no chance of keeping what had happened quiet, the news would no doubt already have spread like a dose of herpes.
He took the five minutes Ryan had offered, focussing his attention on the second hand sweeping around the wall clock, doing his best to ignore the ache in his arse and the pain from his ribs and then drew in a long breath.
It was time to face the consequences of his own stupidity.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Stephen, Ryan, Danny, Ditzy
Disclaimer : Not mine (except the OCs), no money made, don’t sue.
Word Count : 59,000 words in 30 chapters of approx. 1,500 – 2,500 words each
Spoilers : None
Warning : Aftermath of rape.
Summary : Ending up in Dartmoor prison for refusing to recant their belief in evolution is only the start of the problems facing Nick, Stephen and Connor. And Sir James Lester soon ends up with other problems on his hands than just an over-crowded prison population.
A/N : For acknowledgments etc please see Part 1
“Get the fuck out of here!”
From his position curled up on the floor of the shower room, Stephen heard the soldier barking orders, barely restrained anger in his voice. Knowing his luck, the man would want to be in line for seconds.
Stephen tried to push himself up off the cold tiles, knowing he’d been a bloody idiot to have disregarded Quinn’s warnings and not wanting to look the man – or anyone else, for that matter – in the face. He had started to shake violently and slid on the wet floor. Quinn’s hands gripped him under the arms and heaved him up into a sitting positing. The towel that had been thrown over him slid to the ground, leaving Stephen naked and vulnerable. Quinn grabbed it and draped it back over him.
“Thanks,” Stephen murmured.
The black-uniformed soldier went down on one knee next to him. Stephen recognised him as the captain who had supervised their arrival the previous day, after his first run in with the guard who only a few minutes ago had been so obviously eager to take his turn fucking him.
“How badly are you hurt?” the soldier asked him, talking to Stephen in the sort of voice he would probably have used on a frightened dog. “My name’s Ryan and just so you know, rape isn’t my idea of fun.”
“I’ll live,” Stephen said between gritted teeth, trying to ignore the burning pain in his arse and the bitter feeling of humiliation.
“We’ll let the medic be the judge of that,” Ryan said. He held his hand down to Stephen and helped Quinn haul him to his feet. The man’s grip was firm and Stephen felt the gun calluses on his palm. “You’d better put your boiler suit back on. I don’t imagine you want to walk to the medical bay with just a towel around your waist.” The soldier switched his attention to Quinn. “Help him.”
“I can manage,” Stephen said, but the way his hands shook belied his words. With Quinn’s assistance, he pulled on the orange one-piece suit, stuffed his underwear and socks into the pockets, picked up his teeshirt and shoved his bare feet into the prison-issue trainers, but straightening out the elastic straps was beyond him. Bending down hurt. In fact everything hurt.
With Quinn still at his side, Stephen managed to follow Ryan down a long series of corridors and through numerous locked doors until they reached the prison’s medical bay. The soldier-medic who had conducted the full body search the previous day was sitting behind a desk entering some data onto a computer. He looked up as they entered and rolled his eyes when he saw the state of Stephen’s face.
“It didn’t take you long to get into trouble, mate, did it?” The medic stood up and jerked his head in the direction of a side room. “Come on.”
“He’s had Gordie Fraser’s cock up his arse,” Ryan commented as the door closed behind them. “And he didn’t look happy about it.”
The medic rolled his eyes. “Can’t imagine anyone would be too happy about that. OK, sunshine, get your kit off and let’s see how much damage he’s done.” He glanced at Danny Quinn and asked, “Do you want him to stay?”
Stephen hesitated, not wanting Quinn to witness his further humiliation, but also aware of the fact that the man had come to his aid, although if the soldiers decided to take advantage of him in any way, Quinn’s presence wouldn’t be any help to him.
Seeing his hesitation, the medic took charge and made the decision for him. “Wait outside the door, Quinn.”
Quinn shot Stephen a sympathetic glance. From what he’d said to Stephen that morning, it was clear he knew what Stephen had gone through, but alongside Stephen’s pain was a sharp pang of embarrassment at having been stupid enough to disregard Quinn’s warnings.
As the door closed behind Quinn, Ryan said, “Jackson was just about to take a turn, Ditz.”
“Tell me something new,” the man called Ditz said with obvious distaste. “This is the second time this week I’ve patched someone up when he’s been tag-teaming with Fraser. Are you going to talk to Lester about it?”
“If I can get him on his own without Leek there, yes. I’ll want a report from you.”
The medic nodded, then said to Stephen, “OK, sunshine, get your kit off again.” As Stephen fumbled with the buttons on his orange suit, the man took a blister pack of tablets out of a cupboard, popped two out and poured a glass of water. “Take these; they’ll help with the pain.”
Naked and self-conscious under the two men’s dispassionate gaze, Stephen swallowed the tablets and washed them down with a gulp of water, pleased to note that his hands weren’t shaking quite as badly as they had been doing. The medic checked out his split and bitten lip that already felt swollen to twice its normal size and smeared on some cool gel that almost immediately brought some relief from the pain. How the calm, reassuring medic had managed to earn a nickname like Ditzy, Stephen couldn’t imagine, as it seemed a long way from the truth. The man carefully probed Stephen’s ribs and the rest of his body for damage, earning himself a sharp intake of breath as his cold fingers pressed on the already purpling bruise on his abdomen where someone had kicked him.
“You might have a cracked rib, but there’s bugger all I can do about that. I’ll try to keep you off any heavy work for a few weeks. OK, that’s the easy bit done.” Ditzy pulled a long strip of coarse paper off a dispenser on the wall and laid it down on the narrow examination bed. “On your front. I’ll try not to make this any worse than it already is, and remember, I’ve already had my fingers up your arse, so it’s nothing new for either of us.”
Stephen dredged up a grin from somewhere and manoeuvred himself carefully onto the bed, feeling an unwelcome stab of pain from his ribs. Jesus, he’d been in Dartmoor barely 24 hours and he’d already managed to get beaten up and raped. Not the most auspicious of starts. He heard the all too familiar snap of a pair of latex gloves being pulled on and then a pair of surprisingly gentle hands parted his arse cheeks. Stephen heard the sharp intake of breath normally associated with garage mechanics and plumbers when dealing with a customer.
“Gordie’s a big sod,” Ditzy remarked in an incongruously conversational tone of voice. “Got a dick like a bloody flagpole. OK, hold onto your hat, I’m going in. I need to take some swabs first for tests, then I’m going to use some antiseptic gel. It’ll feel cold, but it shouldn’t sting too much. The object of the exercise is to numb your arse a bit, like I did with your lip.”
As Ditzy gave his running commentary, Stephen felt a slick finger slip inside his body followed by something that felt like a small spatula. It fucking hut and he had a hard job stifling a yelp. A second swab was taken and then the finger probed gently, smearing the gel inside him. He tried to cut his mind off from the humiliation of knowing the medic was holding his arse cheeks open with the fingers of one hand while liberally coating the inside of his body with antiseptic with the other. Stephen closed his eyes and did his best to relax, trying to shut out the knowledge that Captain Ryan was watching them. Stephen was learning the hard way that there was no privacy in prison and that Dartmoor was a very different environment to the remand centre.
Another liberal smear of gel around his arse crack finished the proceedings.
“There’s some tearing,” Ditzy told him, stripping off the gloves and washing his hands at the small sink. “But all things considered, you got off quite lightly. It’ll hurt like fuck when you take a crap for the next week or so but do us all a favour and no straining, OK? If the painkillers bung you up, let me know and I’ll give you a laxative. You’ll need to see me twice a day for painkillers and antibiotics. If there’s a lockdown, I’ll come to you, otherwise see me after breakfast and dinner until I say otherwise, OK?”
Stephen got down carefully from the bed and pulled on his underwear and clothes. Another round of tablets followed.
“Take five minutes by yourself,” Ryan said quietly. “Then Quinn can take you back to the wing.” The soldier hesitated and then added, “With your looks, you won’t find it easy in here. My men won’t stand for this sort of thing, but we can’t be everywhere at once. Quinn knows his way around the place. Listen to him and you won’t go too far wrong.”
Stephen managed to meet the man’s eyes and nod. He’d experienced at first hand the consequences of ignoring good advice. He wouldn’t make that mistake twice. He’d always had a suspicion that he wouldn’t get out of prison without an experience like the one he’d just been through and if Quinn could seemingly put it behind him, so could he. Cutter wouldn’t be happy and would use it as an excuse to heap more burning coals of guilt onto his own head, but Stephen knew perfectly well he had no chance of keeping what had happened quiet, the news would no doubt already have spread like a dose of herpes.
He took the five minutes Ryan had offered, focussing his attention on the second hand sweeping around the wall clock, doing his best to ignore the ache in his arse and the pain from his ribs and then drew in a long breath.
It was time to face the consequences of his own stupidity.
no subject
Date: 2014-04-24 05:21 pm (UTC)Poor Stephen!
Good for both Ryan and Ditzy for being so businesslike. Best thing they could have done, but sad that they'd probably had a lot of practice.
“If I can get him on his own without Leek there, yes. I’ll want a report from you.”
Oooh, excellent little bit slid in there!
Bleaugh for Cutter getting the guilts! That certainly won't help.
But LOL for the news being spread like a dose of herpes.
Stephen may be headstrong, but he doesn't make the same mistake twice - now here's hoping that Gordie hasn't got a taste for him...
no subject
Date: 2014-05-03 01:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-24 06:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-05-03 01:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-24 07:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-05-03 01:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-24 07:47 pm (UTC)*hugs* Stephen.
no subject
Date: 2014-05-03 01:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-24 08:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-05-03 01:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-24 08:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-05-03 01:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-24 11:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-05-03 01:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-05-04 09:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-26 09:18 am (UTC)Yes, take Ryan's advice, Stephen! Listen to Danny!
no subject
Date: 2014-05-03 01:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-26 09:04 pm (UTC)Poor Stephen. I'm glad that Nick and Connor weren't amongst the rescue party. At this stage the dispassionate competence of Ditzy and Ryan is far more helpful and leaves Stephen with a small amount of dignity.
no subject
Date: 2014-05-03 01:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-05-04 09:21 am (UTC)Will we get dinosaurs now?
no subject
Date: 2014-05-04 11:15 am (UTC)Yep, loads of 'em!
no subject
Date: 2014-05-04 05:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-05-04 06:37 pm (UTC)