FicWad

It was a clinic.

That was the first thing the two-year-old boy named Bill was aware of when he opened his eyes. He looked around, feeling the cold metal of the table below him, pressing uncomfortably into his pale, naked backside. Bright fluorescent lights shone from the ceiling, burning into his eyes, causing him to squint. He felt a sudden, strong urge to cry, but he held it in.

The door to the room he was in opened, and a tall, strange man entered, followed by a slightly shorter man with red hair and a stocky build. The tall man wore a long white coat and held a syringe in his left hand. He walked towards the table and stopped in front of Bill, who watched the long needle suspiciously.

"This your son?" grunted the tall man.

"Yeah," replied the red-haired man.

"What are all these bruises?" asked the tall man, not really sounding worried but rather perfunctory. He gestured at the darkened spots of skin, some big, some small, all along Bill's lower back and groin.

"He falls a lot," said the red-haired man smoothly.

The tall man nodded and positioned the needle over Bill's left shoulder. The boy whimpered softly and squeezed his eyes shut.

The needle sank deep into his skin, and Bill screamed. The red-haired man roared, "Shut up!" and he whined into silence.

When the shot was over, the shorter man dressed his son again, allowing his fingers to linger a bit too long over the backs of Bill's legs, then picked him up and carried him into the waiting room. He sat down in a seat and put Bill in his lap, gently rubbing his shoulders with his hands and pushing him slowly up and down his huge thighs. Bill shut his eyes and floated away from this God-awful scene.

The clinic door opened and a tall blond woman in a red dress came rushing in. She snatched Bill off his father's lap and screamed, "You promised you'd take him straight to me after his vaccination!"

"I was letting him rest up. Poor little guy had a rough time of it." The man stood up and stroked Bill's hair. "Didn't you?'

Bill turned towards his mother and did not answer him. His father pinched his cheek and repeated, "Didn't you?"

"Don't push him!" snapped the blond woman. "He's only two years old!"

"Shut the fuck up, Sharon," snapped the red-haired man. He smashed his fist into the side of her face, then grabbed her around the throat and slammed her against the wall. His body pressed hard against hers, he ground their hips together as she screamed in pain and terror, trying to turn her body so that Bill would not be caught between them.

Someone rushed up and dragged the man away. Sharon and Bill were both sobbing.

"Take a good look at him, you bastard," she breathed, "because you'll never see him again." And she turned and ran out of the clinic, while the red-haired man stared after her, lustily licking his lips as he remembered the pain he'd caused his now ex-wife and their son.

~~~

Laurie Stevens had been sleeping quite heavily, exhausted from the long performance at the Seattle Center and the after-party at the casino. Her fight with Duff had been reconciled during the party, mostly due to the fact that he'd been drunk, and she'd watched in amusement as Matt Sorum had tried unsuccessfully to talk to Erin Everly. They'd returned to the hotel around three o'clock A.M. and Laurie had immediately collapsed into a deep sleep, oblivious to the rest of the world. Now, quite suddenly, she was being jarred awake by moans and screams of pain.

Did Axl bring a chick back with him? she wondered sleepily, opening her eyes slowly and looking around. She rolled over and, after her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, saw Axl thrashing about on his bed, quite alone, sobbing and moaning.

Laurie swung herself out of bed and crossed the room. She pressed her palm against his forehead and felt the sweat standing out from his skin.

"Axl," she whispered. "Axl, honey, c'mon, wake up."

The thrashing stopped. His eyelids fluttered open, and Laurie watched as a series of emotions flickered across their dark surfaces before he finally seemed to recognize her.

"Laurie," he whispered hoarsely, and then suddenly he was in her arms, his face pressed against the side of her neck, salty tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Shh," she murmured softly, stroking his hair. "It's okay. It'll all be okay. It was just a dream."

"So...real..." Axl whispered.

"Yeah, I know," Laurie said soothingly. She sat down more comfortably, allowing him to wrap his arms around her and cling to her in pain and fear. "You wanna talk about it?"

Axl hesitated. He remembered his psychologist's warning: that if he had another nightmare he should come straight to her, especially if it involved his real father. But he also remembered Laurie's capabilities of just listening, of being there for him, and he found himself spilling the entire story out to her without really thinking about it.

When he was done, Laurie was silent for a while. Then she said, "Has he been in your dreams a lot recently?"

He nodded.

"Are they always that clear?"

"No, usually it's just shapes and sounds." He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. "You think--?"

She shook her head. "No, Axl, I'm sure there's nothing wrong with you." And then they were both silent as they realized she had read his mind and practically finished his sentence.

After a bit, Laurie gave Axl's hand--which had drifted into hers--a gentle squeeze, then released it. "Lemme up, Axl. We've gotta get some sleep." She passed her hand across his forehead. "You feeling better?"

He nodded. "But--Laurie, don't go. Stay with me." He lay down, causing her to lie down with him. For a few seconds she was lying on top of him; then she rolled quickly off and said softly, "Just for tonight, Axl. Okay?"

"Okay." He drew the blankets over them and found her hands beneath the sheets, covering them with his own. He moved slightly closer to her, so that their foreheads were touching. She smiled a little bit; secretly--inexplicably--glad to be next to him again.

Even if it was just for one night.