Cold. Wet. Painful shivers wracked his body as he staggered down the street. His entire body trembled and ached. The bruises his flesh bore were angry at him and his muscles punished him for making them work even harder than they already had. But he couldn't stop now, not now.

Every now and then a car would go past and he would run for cover at the unfamiliar sounds of the engine. From whatever momentary solitude he found, he would watch with wide eyes at the bright headlights whizzing passed, threatening to catch him, to drag him back to Hell. He wouldn't go back. No after everything he did to get away. He would die before he went back.

He wrapped the torn clothes tighter around his body, but they did nothing to protect him from the driving rain and the chill that had been in his bones for God knew how long. Blood-stained clothes, clothes he had killed for just to cover his naked flesh for the first time since he could remember. The material felt foreign on his skin, but he revelled in it, a forbidden pleasure he greedily indulged in. He hadn't had time to claim the shoes off the corpse, but he doubted they would have fitted him anyway. The clothes were too small as it was and strained over his body, screaming to be allowed to tear just to lessen the stress to the fabric.

He had no idea where he was going, his eyes darted around warily. His feet were raw and bleeding from the rough ground but the rain washed away the thick, red liquid, seeping from his veins. Jared stood for a moment, transfixed at the sight - lit up by the street lamp - of his blood mixing with the puddles surrounding him. He cocked his head to the side and wondered at the patterns it made.

A rumble of thunder jerked him out of his daze; he didn't have time to let his mind wander, not yet, maybe not ever. They could be close; they could be coming to claim him back. He would be punished if they found him, maybe even killed. Death sounded like a welcome release, but something pushed him on, not letting him rest, not yet.

There was something he had to do; he just couldn't grasp hold of what it was. It danced mockingly just out of reach, letting him slip his fingers against it before it laughed and skipped away like a naughty pixie, giggling at the fun of his frustration.

He stopped when he could no longer feel the rain beating down on him, a welcome relief from the usual pounding his body took on a daily basis. He blinked the water from his eyes, sweeping his long hair out of the way so he could assess his surroundings.

He was stood in front of a house that sheltered him from the downpour. Just a normal house. A house that looked like every other house on the block.

He flinched when lightening flashed, illuminating him in the shadows the house provided. He clapped his hands over his ears to shield them from the attack of thunder that followed immediately after the blinding light.

It would be a few hours before the sun came up, he needed somewhere to hide, somewhere to take shelter, where he could be safe… safe? The word was as foreign as the clothes he wore, but he was so desperate for the taste of it that he thought it again. Safe.

Without even realising he was doing it, he scrunched himself down into a tight ball - a smaller target - against the solid wooden door of the protective house. He would rest, just for a while, a moment; else he wouldn't have the strength to fight them off when they came. And they would come, he was sure of it. They wouldn't let him go, not after…

Jared leapt from the doorway when he heard a strange whining coming from the other side. Something scratched at the wood, trying to get out. Trying to get to him.

He had to get away, he had to run. But he couldn't move. Not even when the scratching and whining became alerted barking. He was found. The dogs had hunted down his scent, even in the rain he had thought to conceal him.

He looked about in a panic, looking for a weapon to protect himself with, but with nothing in sight he prepared to use himself as a weapon, something he had done more times than he cared to count. Too much blood on his hands. Too many lives drained away by his touch.

He tensed, ready for a fight when he heard the tired, muffled voice on the other side of the door, right before it was flung open. At the same time, another jolt of lightening accompanied by deafening thunder sprung him into action. He threw himself at the figure shadowed in the entrance, knocking it to the ground in a flurry of limbs and surprised yelps.

But before he had time to lay the first blow - a well aimed punch to the throat - he was smothered with hot, hairy bodies, panting snouts sniffing and licking at him. He cried out, waiting for the vicious teeth to rip into his flesh and tear him apart. Waiting for the pain to take hold and end his suffering once and for all.

It didn't come. Instead his ears were filled with high whining again as he was licked and slobbered on. Warm tongues cleaning away the grime from his face.

Then he was blinded by the lightening again but this time it didn't go away, it stayed bright and harsh, piercing his eyes and searing pain into his brain. No. Not lightening. Just a light. He shook his head and blinked, unused to such a powerful bulb. He needed to get his head back together; he needed to be ready for whatever torture was sure to come next.

"Jared?"

A soft gasp followed the vaguely familiar name and then the lapping dogs were being dragged away, a door slamming to keep them at bay.

He scrambled to his feet; raising his hands in defence as the figure - still just a shadow as his eyes adjusted to the light - came at him.

"Oh my God. Jared?" There was that name again, but he wasn't given time to puzzle over it because the figure lunged at him, wrapping strong arms around him.

He growled at the attack, catching the arms skilfully, twisting them away from where they could do harm and allowing him to inflict his own attack. He swung his fist, connecting easily with soft flesh and hard bone, his attacker crumbling to the floor with a startled hiss.

"Jay, it's me, it's Jensen."

The desperate voice penetrated his mind, awakening something he didn't have a name for, something long lost and for the first time he was stunned into immobility.

He shouldn't be still, he had to fight. He had to take this person down, kill them before they killed him. But he couldn't move. His eyes came into focus as his ears picked up the faint sobs from the man that was picking himself up off the soft carpeted floor.

"Fuck, are you bleeding?" The man, Jensen, asked urgently, moving to rush at him despite having just been knocked down. "Jared, are you hurt?

He was confused by this compassion. What did Jensen care if he was hurting or not? His instincts kicked in when Jensen got close. He ducked to the side and caught Jensen in a hard back hand, sending the man reeling away, looking back with a hurt expression.

Jensen stood back warily, riskily holding a hand out in a calming gesture that he was too smart to trust. He'd been fooled by that before, not ever again. Either this person was here to fight him or…

"You think you can take me?" he asked viciously, circling the man before him. "You think I'm going to bend over for you?"

He watched the alarm spread over this Jensen's face and smirked. This one was soft, it would be too easy.

"What? Jay, no. Jesus, what the fuck happened to you? Where have you been?" Jensen asked, his face stricken.

He wasn't fooled. He'd had every trick in the book thrown at him; this was just a little more inventive than they'd ever gotten before.

Jensen moved towards him again and he was ready. He grasped the reaching hand and pulled Jensen against him, twisting their legs together so that he could spin them round onto the floor, Jensen pinned beneath him, cushioning his fall while the air was expelled from Jensen's lungs.

"You think you can trick me? You think you can fuck my ass?" he snarled, pressing a hand against Jensen's face, forcing his cheek into the floor. Jared knew this game; he was a master at its rules. Fuck or be fucked. It had been a long time since someone had gotten the better of him, not when he had the choice to fight back anyway, and now would be no exception.

"Jared, please. You're hurting me," Jensen pleaded, his body still. This confused him even more. Why wasn't he fighting? Was he just giving up? No, nobody just gave up. It was a trick.

"Stop calling me that," he screamed into Jensen's ear, the name, Jared, was stabbing in his brain, taunting him. "Why do you keep calling me that?"

Jensen sobbed beneath him, his voice trembling when he spoke. "Because it's your name. Your name is Jared. Don't you remember?"

He pulled away from Jensen, standing too quickly and pain erupted in his head. He cried out, raising his hands as if trying to keep his brain from exploding from his skull. Jensen was lying. He had to be.

"No. I don't have a name. Names are forbidden." Even as he said it he knew, deep down, that once upon a time he had been known by that name.

"Forbidden? By who? Who did this to you?"

Jared shook his head, attempting to shake his thoughts into a coherent mess instead of the jumbled one where nothing was making sense. This man didn't act anything like the others. He didn't fight back. He didn't try to hurt him. Maybe… maybe he really was out. Maybe he had made it.

"Jared. Whose blood is that?" Jensen asked shakily. He was standing now. How had Jared not noticed him stand? This man was making him weak. He couldn't afford to be weak.

"Jailer," Jared said simply, enjoying the shock Jensen exhibited and decided to go for more. "The one that always came at night. Well, he won't be coming anymore. He doesn't get me anymore. You should have seen the look on his face when I turned his stick back on him; sick fuck didn't know what the hell to do. I'd bided my time. They thought they had a willing slave, but I fooled them, I fooled him. I cut him down, left him to rot naked and alone. Filthy son of a bitch doesn't get to have me anymore."

Jared grinned manically, his eyes following Jensen's throat as he swallowed. He listened to the man's harsh breaths as he tried not to cry out loud.

"I'm so sorry," Jensen whispered, backing away slowly. "But you're safe now, okay? I promise. I'm going to help you, just let me call someone."

Panic shot through Jared as Jensen turned away and reached for the phone. He was going to call them; he was going to send him back. This was all a ploy. They would kill him for this, no doubt about it, they would rip him apart.

The scattered parts of Jared's brain snapped into place and he moved swiftly, catching Jensen by the arm and wrenching it behind him. He forced them both forward until they collided with a table, slamming Jensen against the hard wood. With his free hand Jared grasped a fistful of Jensen's hair and smacked his head down, again and again, beating it against the table.

"Jay, what are you doing?" Jensen asked, gritting his teeth through the pain.

"You think I'd let you call them? I'm gonna fucking kill you for even thinking of sending me back. I'm not fucking going back," Jared growled lowly, pinning Jensen down so he couldn't move. He could feel Jensen shivering against him, his strong muscles firm beneath Jared.

"I wasn't, I swear. Jared, I would never do that, I would never hurt you. You're safe, Jay. Please believe me, you're safe, you're safe," Jensen pleaded, whispering the words like a prayer, but Jared couldn't believe him. He didn't do prayers, not anymore. This man had fucked with his mind enough already, giving him a name, telling him he was safe. Jared was never safe. The word was a distant dream that he could never hope to achieve.

Jared snarled angrily and yanked Jensen's arm harder. Jensen cried out in agony but he wasn't loud enough to cover the sound of bone popping as Jared pulled his shoulder from its socket.

"Enough," Jared said, the violence bringing on a calmness. Jared knew violence. He lived with it every day. This, he knew how to do. "Safe is a myth and I will teach you not to taunt me with it."

Jared could see a small, wet pool forming under Jensen's face and for a moment he was transfixed. Blood, mixed with pained tears where they had fallen onto the polished wooden surface. A swirling combination, like the rain and the blood from his feet. Jared smiled. He planned to add to that pool. He would make this Jensen scream before he was through with him.

He tore down the sweats Jensen wore, the loose material offering no resistance. An easy to unwrap gift that quivered beautifully. His eyes trailed over the exposed flesh, his dick already hard, ready and waiting to do the job.

"Let's see what you've got," Jared mumbled, searching out Jensen's entrance with one finger. He felt Jensen squirm slightly, his one useful arm clawing at the slippery wood of the table. Jared slammed his hand into Jensen's dislocated shoulder, satisfied with the roar of pain Jensen let out. Yes, that was a good sound.

Taking the warning well, Jensen stilled, panting wet breath across the table. He tensed and hissed when Jared inserted one finger, but he remained motionless.

"Well, well. You are a newbie aren't you? So fucking tight. Nothing broken. Don't tell me you're a virgin?" Jared questioned in amusement. He was getting a virgin. This was new; he wasn't used to feeling flesh that hadn't been repeatedly ripped open and badly healed.

Jensen shook his head, no he wasn't a virgin, as Jared gave him another finger, needing him open a little or he would never get inside without blowing too early. And he wanted Jensen to suffer. He wanted him to know what it felt like to be forced into again and again, and for your rapist to get off on it. Jensen would understand what Jared had been through and he would regret ever trying to send him back there.

"Jay, you don't have to do this, please? Not like this."

Not like this? Jared shook his head and lowered his mouth to Jensen's ear. "Like this is all there is, so suck it up." Not giving Jensen time to answer, Jared released himself from the soaked, too tight jeans, and rammed himself home.

Much to Jared's annoyance, Jensen didn't cry out and Jared cursed himself for being too generous with the preparation. His victim simply grunted and took large, harsh breaths. This pissed Jared off. Jensen was trying to take his revenge away from him. He wasn't giving him what he wanted and that just wouldn't do.

Jared gripped hold of Jensen's injured shoulder and yanked him back onto his dick, forcing himself deeper and this time Jensen cried out. Jared didn't really care whether it was from the fucking or his shoulder, it didn't much matter as long as the pain was there.

"Degrading isn't it?" Jared asked, pulling Jensen down again and again, harder every time. "Being used like a whore. Now you know what it feels like. Now you know what I felt like"

"Oh God," Jensen whimpered, his hips bashing into the table as Jared released his shoulder and thrust into him.

Jared's lips curled. "There is no God," he whispered, taking Jensen's ear between his teeth and biting down hard. There couldn't be a God, because if there was, how could He have not heard Jared's prayers? "But I promise you one thing. I guarantee you, there is a Hell. I should know. I fucking live there."

Jared felt his anger rise, boiling in his veins. It infuriated him how Jensen was getting off easy because he wasn't fighting back. Jared had fought. He'd fought with everything he had and he'd paid for it. But they wanted him to fight. They told him to fight. With Jensen not fighting it seemed too… intimate.

Growling at the thought, Jared took hold of the back of Jensen's t-shirt and pulled, causing the neck to tighten, making Jensen release choking sounds. His hands scrambled to loosen the restraint around his neck, his body jerking with the effort. Yes. This was more like it.

Perhaps Jared would suffocate him as he came, finish him off as soon as the deed was done. But surely that would be going easy on him. Surely Jensen deserved to suffer more than that.

Jared could feel his release building and made his decision. He wanted to watch the light go from Jensen's eyes as he killed him. He wanted him to look into the pits of Hell before he was sent there.

"Such a fuckable hole," Jared grunted, speeding up his attacks and letting the heat in his gut travel down into his groin. "It's a shame to waste it. How long has it been? Huh? How long since someone took you? How long since someone had you?"

Jared let go of Jensen's t-shirt, letting the man breathe for a moment, knowing that he would be taking that breath permanently away very shortly.

He lowered his head to Jensen's back, resting his forehead between his shoulder blades as he pump faster and harder into the delicious heat.

He'd almost forgotten he'd asked a question when Jensen began to speak. His words jolting in time to Jared fucking into him.

"Eighteen months, two weeks and three days," Jensen told him.

Jared moaned as his climax hit, emptying his load into Jensen's body, feeling him shiver at the sensation. Jared could almost have believed Jensen enjoyed it.

Jared chuckled as he caught his breath. Jensen's recount to his last fuck so exact and Jared just had to ask, "So specific. How do you remember something like that?"

"It was the day you were last home."

Jared forced himself away from Jensen's warm body, fear clutched at his heart and an ache in his gut settled in for the long haul. On the table, Jensen was tenderly covering himself and slowly turning to face Jared. His rapist.

Jared knew, somehow he just knew that he couldn't let Jensen look at him. He couldn't see into the depths of Jensen or it would destroy him.

So he did the only thing he could. He moved in with his fists flying, connecting with Jensen's face, his chest, his stomach, anywhere Jared could get at he attacked with all the strength he possessed.

Jensen was backed up by the force of the blows until he stumbled and fell. He curled up on his side and Jared kicked him repeatedly, resorting to stamping with the heel of his bare foot.

"Jared, stop." Jensen coughed, turning his head against the floor and attempting to push himself up. Jared stamped again, this time hearing the sickening crunch of bone as one or more of Jensen's ribs gave way under the onslaught.

Jensen sobbed through the pain, but his body went still, no more fight left in him. Pleased with this accomplishment, Jared straddled Jensen, knocking him onto his back so he could assess the damage he'd inflicted.

Jensen's face was a bruised and bloody mess. A large cut over his left eye drew shocking red lines down his face. A large lump was forming on his forehead and he coughed blood from his mouth.

"So pretty." Jared smiled, brushing back Jensen's hair. "You'll look good in an open coffin," Jared told him and raised his fist to finish the job.

Just then, Jensen turned his head and Jared froze when he was met with startling emeralds, swimming in tears. In their depths, an underlying tenderness was hidden beneath the fear. Softness and a longing that Jared had only over seem in one pair of eyes before.

He reeled back in shock. They were the eyes of his dreams. The ones that haunted him when he slept. The ones that danced before his when he was so doped up he couldn't move against his abuse. They were the eyes that Jared had held onto with everything he had, they were the only thing that kept him going. They had kept him alive.

"Jen." The name fell from his lips but he couldn't fathom where it came from. He felt he should remember saying it before, but he didn't.

Jen. Jensen?

Jared screamed when his head blasted him with pain. It didn't want to know. It didn't want him to remember.

Jared felt a bombardment of emotions, smacking into him like he had lain into Jensen. Loss, such a terrible loss it made him wail at the tragedy of it. Shame, so ashamed of what he had done, of what he had allowed done to him. Shame of what he had allowed himself to become. A shame he had to hide at all costs. Disgust, disgust at himself. Filth, he was filthy, why would anybody every want to touch him? He would infect them. Dirty them. He could never get clean; it was too late for that.

Jared fell to his knees, clutching his head. In his minds eye he could still see those eyes but they weren't laughing at him like he figured they should be. They were looking at him like he was something. Like he was something amazing.

Jared cried out, recoiling from the hands he felt trying to support him. He blocked out the voice that called this name he had been given. This voice that told him he was home. That he was safe.

Jared's mind clouded and for once he didn't fight it. He welcomed the numbing dark and let it envelope him.

He mustn't see those eyes. He didn't deserve them and more than anything in the world, Jared didn't want to hurt them. But a sickening part of his heart told him he already had.

***

"Jared. Jared wake up."

Jensen crawled over to Jared, tipping his face into view. Jared's eyes were closed, it was like he'd retreated into his head after he'd said Jensen's name. He'd said it like he had so many times before.

Jensen's ribs protested his movement and he knew he needed help, Jared needed help. As fast as he was able, he scrambled for the phone, hitting speed dial and holding the receiver to his ear.

He waited impatiently for the call to connect, never taking his eyes off Jared, but avoiding where his cock was still hanging limply from his open jeans. He didn't know what he would do if Jared woke up and attacked him again. He wouldn't fight back, nothing in this world would make him hit Jared, but he wasn't sure he would survive another bashing. But worse, what if Jared came too and left? Jensen knew for a fact that he wouldn't be able to cope with losing him again.

"Jensen?" the voice was sleepy but concerned and Jensen sighed in relief.

"Jeff? I need you, please? It's Jared," Jensen said in a panic. How would he explain this to their friend?

"Jen, listen. I know it's hard, but you've -"

"No, you don't understand, doc. He's here. Jared's here, but… Jeff, something's wrong with him." Jensen was crying uncontrollably, his entire body trembling with pain and fear. The things Jared had said, the things he'd implied had been done to him; Jensen didn't know how to cope with knowing those things.

"Shit. I'm on my way, just hold on, okay?" Jeff told him and Jensen could hear him already moving around, probably getting dressed.

"Hurry, Jeff." Jensen hung up but kept the phone in his clenched fist, just in case. His strength was fading fast but he needed to stay awake, at least until Jeff was there. He needed to know Jared was safe.

He crawled over to where Jared lay. His skin was so pale, like it had never been touched by sunshine. He was so unlike the tanned, healthy Jared he used to be. He was slimmer, but his muscles were more defined. Jared had always been in great shape, but now, it was as though he'd done nothing but workout the whole time he'd been away.

They'd never known what had happened to Jared. He had simply disappeared one day. His car had been found in the parking lot of the mall where Jared had been supposed to be picking something up for his nephew's birthday. The security camera's had been checked and rechecked but no sign of Jared had been found. It was like he had vanished into thin air.

The police had eventually summarised that Jared had left of his own accord, that he'd left Jensen and his job, his friends and family behind without a word. How they came to this Jensen would never understand. Jared lived for his family. He loved his work at the clothes shop, even though his tastes in clothes was sometimes questionable and flamboyant, but that's just who Jared was. He was a force of nature. Loud and happy, always offering a smile to anyone, hugs for his friends.

No, Jensen had always known that Jared hadn't just up and left. It just wasn't something he could ever willingly do. Which only left the option that someone had taken him. Someone had forced him to leave. And that thought had scared Jensen almost to death.

Now he had the evidence right in front of him. Someone had taken Jared to Hell and the things they had done…

The tap at the door got his attention but he didn't have the strength to get to his feet. He went to call out but his cries were stifled by the blood clogging up his throat and filling his mouth. He could hear Jeff calling and banging, but his head was rapidly filling with cotton, everything getting fuzzy, and no matter how much he tried; Jensen couldn't force himself to even crawl to the door.

Sadie and Harley were barking madly behind the closed kitchen door and Jensen had a moment to feel grateful that he'd shut them in. They'd been so excited when they'd caught Jared's scent after so long away but he couldn't imagine how they would have acted if they'd been present while Jared attacked him. He would never have forgiven himself if Jared's beloved dogs had fought on Jensen's side and ended up hurting their master.

Jensen barely noticed the key in the door, only registering that Jeff must have woken his neighbours to get the spare key when the older man's face appeared in front of him.

"Jesus, Jensen. What the fuck happened?" Jeff looked panicked, his soft hazel eyes were wide with alarm as they searched Jensen's battered face, taking in every bruise and split of the skin.

Gentle hands carefully turned Jensen's head, allowing for a more thorough examination, but Jensen fought to grip Jeff's forearm and capture his gaze.

"He's back, Jeff. He's home. Jared." Jensen's eyes flicked over the doctors shoulder to settle on Jared's unconscious form. He felt a smile pull on his split lip but he ignored it, too wrapped up in the push and pull his heart was going through. Part of him was elated to see Jared again, just knowing he was alive after all this time, to see the proof with his own eyes, to feel him beneath his fingertips. But seeing the evidence before him was also akin to having his chest ripped open.

The Jared he knew didn't appear to be there. Oh, it was his Jared in body, even if a slightly altered one, but his mind? It was like a stranger had high-jacked Jared's flesh, cramming his mind into the darkest corner of his brain and holding it hostage. Whatever happened to Jared to cause that sent a chill over Jensen's heart. What ever had put that darkness deep in Jared's eyes… if Jensen could just get his hands on whoever did this…

But Jensen knew, he was certain, that despite the beating Jared had given him, the things he had said, what he had done, Jared was still in there. Just before he had shut down, he'd recognised Jensen, he was sure of it. Jared was home and Jensen would go through as many beatings, be fucked as many times as necessary until he found him again.

"What did he do to you?" Jeff asked with a gasp, glancing over his shoulder at the long lost Jared, taking in his dishevelled appearance and exposed, flaccid cock. He tried to help Jensen to his feet but stopped when he yelped. Pain burnt through Jensen's chest and shoulder, and Jeff's hands left him to fall to his knees, scared he was inflicting more damage.

"Doesn't matter," Jensen said through the pain, ignoring the tears on his cheeks. "He's home."

"He's dangerous," Jeff exclaimed causing Jensen to give him a sharp glare.

"We don't know what he's been through," he snapped, and wheezed slightly, trying to catch his elusive breath. How could Jeff blame Jared for anything after the hell he'd obviously lived?

"That's right. We don't know. So we can't predict his actions," Jeff said with an obviously forced calm. "Look at what he's done to you, Jensen. He could have killed you."

Before Jensen could defend Jared more, the middle-aged couple from the neighbouring house stumbled through the door with concerned faces.

"Oh my God," gasped Brenda, lifting a hand to cover her gaping mouth.

"I'll call the cops," said her husband, Toby, as he took in Jensen's appearance and Jared's unconscious body.

"No," Jensen cried but Toby had already gone, racing back to his house, having seen the death grip Jensen still had on his own phone.

"Yes," Jeff said firmly, putting a hand on Jensen's good shoulder.

"No," Jensen shouted. "No cops. Jeff, please stop him. They'll take him away. They'll take him away."

Jensen threw off Jeff's hand and forced himself to his feet, determined to stop Toby from making a huge mistake and ruining Jensen's life all over again.

Jeff caught Jensen as he swayed precariously on his feet, darkness clouding his vision and making him stumble. Jensen didn't care that his body was screaming in protest at every movement he made and, even blind, continued to make his way towards the door.

No cops, no cops, no cops, chanted in his head, over and over.

"Jensen," Jeff's voice leaked through the thick soup his head was becoming filled with. He could feel hands on him but they weren't holding him back as much as supporting his fall as his legs gave up on him.

"I just got him back," Jensen sobbed, his voice slurring. "I can't lose him again, Jeff. I just got him back. I got him…"

There will be more... In Repair