The Boys From Tennessee

The Boys From Tennessee
Rating: NC17 Aftermath of rape and abuse.
Author: Chissy_Rose
Pairing:
Author’s Notes/Disclaimer: They’re not mine, I don’t own them. No infringement intended.

The Boys From Tennessee
Chapter 42 (42/60)
Rescued by Rousseau

When he’d passed out it had been almost night and now it looked to be afternoon. When he woke up his hands, wrists and arms were killing him. They’d let him hang from the ropes his wrists were tied with. He stood up on his own two feet and whimpered at the pain in his arms and hands. He had rope burns around both his wrists from pulling against the ropes. He looked around and saw no signs of any of them. Their tents and entire camp was gone. The jungle was quiet. He didn’t hear them anywhere. He began to pull at the ropes that bound him. He wanted to get free and find his clothes so he could head back towards the hatch. He knew he had to get to where Jack was – he was going to need a doctor. He had to try to focus on getting back and Jack and Sawyer to make himself keep going. He tried to reach the knots so he could untie his hands but even though he struggled, he couldn’t reach them. He fought the thoughts of panic that were going through his mind. ‘It would be a hell of a thing if I survived being gang raped for days, only to die because I couldn’t free myself from these damn ropes’ he thought. The tree he was tied to was so massive he couldn’t reach the knots and his wrists were already raw and swollen. He was weak from the abuse he’d been through, and they hadn’t fed him that he could remember. He was so thirsty he felt like he could die from thirst. They’d forced him to drink enough rum that he’d become intoxicated, but dehydration would probably kill him first if he couldn’t get free. He knew he was about three hours away from the beach campsite, but that would be a huge search area for a small group of searchers. He could still die before he was found. He tried repeatedly to reach any part of the ropes but only grew more frustrated. He tried calling out for help, but after a few minutes the entirety of the whole situation and what he’d been through just washed over him emotionally. He began to cry and the crying turned into sobs. It was late in the afternoon and he was afraid he might really die against that tree. He’d been sobbing uncontrollably about 15 minutes when he heard a woman’s voice call out to him, asking him where he was and what was wrong. He hoped this wasn’t some horrible game they were playing with him. He called out and begged her to help him that he’d been hurt and left tied to a tree. The woman approached cautiously and seemed genuinely shocked when she saw him. She had long dark wavy hair and carried a back pack, a bow, a pouch with arrows and a rifle slung over one shoulder. When she spoke to him again, he could tell her accent was French. He had not seen her before, but he’d heard Sayid and others speak of her – this had to be Rousseau. “Who are you and where are you from?” she asked cautiously as though he could be a danger to her.

“My name is Peter Ford; I’m a survivor of the plane crash of Oceanic Flight 815. I’m a friend of Sayid’s and Jack’s. Please help me escape. I don’t know if they’ll be coming back or not.”
“What happened to you? Who did this?” she asked as she looked around quickly, nervous.

“I was gang-raped by six men…I think they must have been some of the “Others” that you told Sayid about. They had on some kind of jumpsuits – Dharma symbols on them, but they were like animals. Please cut me down so I can get back to Jack. I’m dehydrated and I’ve been whipped and tortured. Please help me Rousseau…please!”

“Where are your clothes and shoes?” she asked.

“They took them off me over there near a fallen tree if they’re still there; please cut me down…I need your help.”

She went over and found his shorts, shoes and socks as he’d said. She came back over to him and had him step into his shorts and she pulled them up and fastened them around him. “If I cut you down you must follow my directions, and I may need to blindfold you if I take you back to my camp. If they are in the area, we probably can’t risk going directly back to your people. Do you agree to do exactly as I say?” she asked.

Peter nodded yes. “You release me and help me to get back and I’ll do whatever you say to get back there. I don’t want to get caught by them far worse than you don’t want to,” he said, “Please hurry.”

Rousseau took out a large hunting knife from a sheath and cut one rope and then the other. His arms fell to his sides and he cringed and moaned from the pain. She could see how weak, injured and submissive he was. He was no threat to her or anyone at this point. She took the knife and cut the rope away from his wrists which were raw, bleeding and swollen. She could see he was a handsome young man, but he’d been so abused he looked horrible.

“Thank you,” he whispered and stumbled badly. Rousseau grabbed him and held him up.

“Sit down for a few moments and put on your shoes,” she ordered. She helped him to sit down and he cried out from the pain as he sat. She shook her head sadly – she knew he’d been raped repeatedly. These men were like predatory animals. She handed him a bottle with water in it. “Sip it slowly to start off with or you’ll throw it up,” she directed. She searched in her backpack and handed him a large piece of fruit. “Eat this, when you finish we’re leaving if you can walk. We need to leave this place quickly.” Peter just nodded as he slipped on his socks and shoes. As long as he didn’t pass out he felt like he could keep up with her since he was a long distance runner. He knew his legs were strong, he just didn’t know if the rest of him could do it. Everything about him hurt and ached or was raw or bleeding. He still had blood caked on his face from being struck. He’d had blood dry on his back, rear, legs, wrists and even his cock. He’d never hurt like this in his life, even from previous rapes. Peter sipped some of the water and tried to eat the piece of fruit. His lips were raw, swollen and split. The inside of his mouth cut-up from his own teeth and the beating he’d taken. He’d been so thirsty he hadn’t even realized he was hungry too. He hadn’t eaten anything since the morning they kidnapped him. He wasn’t sure when that was anymore. He forced himself to stand up. He was still a little unsteady on his feet and his arms, wrists and hands were really hurting since the blood was flowing to them again. He moaned and tried to rub them a little. Rousseau had been scouting the area quietly and returned to his side. She had determined what direction they had left from their trail.

“It is as I thought; we should go back the direction of my shelter first. They are going back somewhat the direction of your side of the island. Can you walk?” she asked quietly.

“I’m a little unsteady on my feet yet. Can you find me a walking stick just so I can steady myself initially? I was tied to that tree probably fourteen hours I guess with my arms over my head and I was passed out for most of it. My hands and wrists are killing me and I’m torn up all over. My legs are strong though so if I can go slower at first we can probably pick up speed later,” he replied. Rousseau found him two sticks and he chose the sturdier stick. They set off walking a little faster that he would have liked, but she would wait on him frequently to catch up. They had walked for about 45 minutes when she stopped them for a break and gave him some more water. He rested against a partially fallen tree. They weren’t talking as they walked, which was probably safer he thought. He was trying desperately to not think about what he had just been through but his body was in such bad shape he couldn’t ignore it. Rousseau told him to rest quietly and she would be back shortly. He decided to sit down and lean against the tree and close his eyes. The next think he was aware of was Rousseau shaking him gently and calling his name, but he woke terrified until he realized it was only her. She told him they would come to a stream soon and she had a towel if he wanted to wash. She helped him get up and they started off in a slightly different direction. Within 15 minutes they came to the stream she was talking about, and she took a small hand towel out and handed it to him. He just shook his head no, but she insisted he come over to the stream. She told him to sit on a nearby log and she rinsed the towel in the stream and came over to him.

“I want to wash your face. You have blood all over it. You look very bad…I’ll try to be gentle,” Rousseau insisted to him. Peter just sat with his shoulders slouched and let her do what she wanted. She placed the dripping towel on his face for a few moments and whispered for him not to touch it. Then she very carefully began to wipe away some of the caked on blood, rinsed it out and did it some more. She could tell his nose and mouth both had bled, and he had a gash on the edge of his jaw that would probably need sutured. She wiped around his neck and rinsed it out again. She tried to hand him the towel and get him to wash further but he shook his head no and said he’d wait ‘til he got back to Jack. She offered to wipe his back but he said no, he knew from being whipped before it would be too painful. She tried one last time saying he could become infected, but he said he hurt too badly to touch anything. He gave her a little smile and thanked her for cleaning his face and neck that it had helped. She pinned the towel to her pack and said they had to be going again. They walked only a short distance and she had him to stop again.

She told him why, “You must trust me for a short while. I want to take you to my shelter, but I need to blindfold you and lead you there. It is too dangerous for me to let you see exactly where I am living. I would have to move again and I don’t want to at this time. Can I blindfold you Peter?”

Peter looked down at the ground for a moment then looked Rousseau in her eyes. “I don’t have any trust left in me really, but you set me free and got me this far. You see or hear anything you take off my blindfold – I’ll be quiet but I don’t want to be surprised or hurt.”

Rousseau nodded, “This is only to get you to my shelter. I won’t keep it on you any longer than necessary Peter.” She removed a bandana from her backpack, and Peter stiffened up immediately and whispered “Oh Jeez…”

“What is the matter?” she asked.

“They used a bandana to gag me.” He was trembling she saw. He breathed in a couple of deeper breaths and let them out through his mouth, trying to relax. He took the bandana from her hands, folded it and tied it around his eyes. She took him by the arm knowing it took a lot for him to trust her and to do this. She led him through the jungle and he could quickly tell that the terrain was changing and getting steeper. Soon she was directing him and he was almost climbing. Suddenly the ground got straighter and the air got cooler. He could tell that they had stepped into a cave of some type. She walked him a ways into the cave and removed his blindfold. She lit a small oil lamp.
“I have one request of you Peter,” she said, “Stay away from the entrance of the cave so you won’t be seen and won’t be able to bring anyone back here.” He nodded and told her sure.
He looked around as his eyes adjusted. Some light was still coming in from the cave entrance but there was a distinct curve in the entrance and you really couldn’t see out directly unless you were around that curve. He knew that there were trees and plants outside the entrance too, since he’d felt them as they’d come in. No wonder she wanted to protect this place. It was good shelter and probably almost impossible to detect from the outside. He heard water running and dripping further down in the cave and further down there was light pouring into the cave from above. She apparently was able to burn a small fire there in the evening without being detected. She had quite a set-up. She had a makeshift bed set up near the fire. There was some furniture that was handmade and a few pieces that looked to be very old. He wondered if they’d come off the old slave ship. She had a kitchen area and a few pots, pans, cups and dishes. She’d set her gun, arrows and bow nearby behind some wooden boxes. He figured as long as she’d been on the island, she’d probably been able to collect a variety of things. She gestured to a chair and he sat down on it slowly moaning quietly and shifting when he sat down. She handed him some water and a different piece of fruit that she’d apparently picked while she had been scouting that afternoon. He ate the fruit and drank some of the water and asked her where he could go to urinate. She pointed down further into the cave and said there was enough light to see, there was a large clay pot that he could use. He wondered down the cave and found it just like she’d said. When he came back, she handed him a clean man’s t-shirt, some boxers, and a clean pair of pants and said he could change into these if he’d like. He smiled and thanked her. It hurt her to see how grateful he was for even the smallest kindness. She knew he’d been through hell in the last 48 hours. He went over to the chair again and slipped off his shoes peeled his shorts off slowly – he was still bleeding and they had stuck to him. He whimpered as he pulled them off. Rousseau was watching him change. She shook her head slowly. The “Others” made her so angry that they would do something like this to anyone but especially to someone so young. He had to be close to the age her daughter Alex would be now. He put on the boxers, the long pants and hissed when he pulled the t-shirt over his back. His wounds were still open but he thought this might offer some protection. Rousseau came back over and offered to let him lay down in the bed. She said she’d needed to go out one last time to check some traps and would fix them something to eat when she got back, that he probably needed to rest. He thanked her and lay down slowly on one side on the bed and tried to get comfortable. She told him he should be safe here and she would return soon. When he woke again he could tell more than an hour had passed. It had gotten dark outside. Rousseau had returned and was apparently cooking some type of meat in a pot over her fire. He got up and walked down to the fire where she was cooking and sat down slowly. He told her that the food smelled wonderful. She smiled and said that it was a type of stew, that it had a few native vegetables in it, and that she hoped he would like it since he needed to get his strength back. After a while she served up some for both of them and they sat around the fire eating. Peter thanked her for the meal and thanked her again for saving his life and that he wouldn’t forget it. She cleaned the plates and left the pot heating next to the fire so they could have the last of it in the morning. They sat in silence for a while until she noticed that his eyes were watering like he was going to cry. She asked him how he came to be on the island, and he told her about being with his girlfriend Julie and how they came to be in Australia and then they’d crashed. Rousseau asked if his girlfriend would be anxious about his being gone so long and he shook his head no sadly. He told her about their breakup and that Jack had fixed him up. She asked if he had a girlfriend, and he shook his head no with a funny smile and went ahead and told her he was bi-sexual, though mostly he was gay. Rousseau said she had thought he might be, but was there anyone that would be worried about him. He said that they should know by now he was gone and were probably searching for him. Jack and Sawyer would be the most concerned, they were both his boyfriends but due to circumstances it would probably take them a little while to figure out he wasn’t with either of them. She asked him where the 'Others' had kidnapped him and when he told her, she knew the lagoon he was talking about. She said it was bad that they had kidnapped him so close to the settlement. He put his head down on his arms and sobbed quietly. She was sorry then that she had gotten him to thinking about it again. She said she was so sorry that they had hurt him so badly, but they were worse than animals and should have to pay for what they’d done. He wiped away the tears and said it had been horrible. There had been six of them, and they’d taken turns with him initially, but then at the end they had all overwhelmed him at once, torturing him sexually. The youngest man had tied him to the tree and whipped him with a cat-o’nine tails whip dipped in salt water before pouring it on him and that he’d passed out. He told her it was even worse for him because he’d been raped repeatedly while he’d been growing up since he was seven years old. Rousseau said something quietly in French that he didn’t understand. She told him again she was so sorry, but then she suggested that they turn in so they could get a good night’s sleep and get an early start. She told him she thought the bed could hold them both, but he said he could probably just use some clothes or something and sleep on the floor. But Rousseau insisted he should sleep in the bed, she said it would be warmer than the floor of the cave, and that he would be fighting infection and might be running a fever, plus she said his injuries were so severe, she couldn’t let him sleep on a hard surface in good conscience. He finally agreed and thanked her saying she had his word he would not try anything with her. She smiled and secretly thought to herself he was in no condition to try anything with anyone – he hadn’t seen himself in a mirror and how torn up he appeared. She got into the bed first, letting him lay on the side that was facing the fire. He fell asleep fairly quickly. He was still so exhausted. Rousseau had a hard time falling asleep. She kept having images of Peter being raped and beaten by six men. She knew that none of them was truly safe from the 'Others'. Late in the night she woke startled until she realized that Peter was crying and his body was racked with silent sobs. She pulled closer to him and whispered to him he was safe. She gently put her left arm over him and smoothed his hair while whispering quietly to him in French. She could tell he was still trembling and crying silently but he wasn’t sobbing any more. She put her left arm around him and held him gently as she gently positioned herself against his back. He heard her begin to sing softly what he could only imagine to be a French bedtime lullaby. He found it oddly comforting and he slipped one of his hands into hers and tried to relax and clear his mind of all thoughts and only focus on her voice. He had no memory of his mom ever doing this, but her singing felt very maternal to him. He hadn’t felt any feelings like this since he’d been a little boy. He listened to her voice sing the song several times before he relaxed enough to fall asleep. It had made Rousseau’s eyes tear up, but she also found it soothing to be singing it to give someone comfort that so badly needed it.

When Peter woke in the morning, Rousseau had already obviously already been up for a while. She had repacked her packback and appeared to be ready to leave. She dished up the last of the warm stew from the night before and gave him some water also. He ate it eagerly, he felt as though he needed the nourishment from it. She cleaned his plate and asked him if he was ready to leave and he said he was. She walked him towards the entrance of the cave and gave a little smile as she handed him the bandana. He gave a small sigh and handed it back to her and turned around so she could tie it on him. She felt good that he trusted her enough for her to do it. She led him down out of the cave and in a few minutes when they were far enough away, she removed it and led the way. She noticed that he was able to keep up with her, even though his injuries mostly looked worse today. The route they took back towards the hatch took them back to the lagoon where Peter had been kidnapped. The closer they got, the more anxious he got. Rousseau finally just held his hand as they approached it to reassure him. As they arrived, they saw Sayid looking around as though looking for a trail. Rousseau called out to him and he froze initially before coming over to them quickly. Peter was shaking from his anxiety of being in the place where they had taken him. Rousseau asked Sayid if he could take Peter the rest of the way to the hatch and get Jack for Peter, that he’d been attacked by the Others. Peter begged her, asking her to come back with him that she didn’t have to stay out the in jungle by herself. But Rousseau said she was sorry, but that she had things to do and check on, but that she was sure Sayid would get him back to Jack. Peter held her hand asked her if he could kiss her, he stepped up to her and kissed her on her cheek and told her “Merci la mère” to her surprise and Sayid’s, but she obviously felt touched by the gesture. “De rien,” she replied. “We will see each other again Peter.”

He shook his head yes and watched her turn and disappear back into the jungle. Sayid put his hand on Peter’s shoulder and removed it quickly at Peter’s gasp and reaction. Sayid could see he was trembling and that he looked as though he’d been very badly beaten.
“She saved my life Sayid. I’d probably have been dead by the time someone had found me. They left me tied to a tree and I couldn’t free myself. She found me and has kept me alive the last 24 hours. I need to get back to Jack. I’m in really bad shape,” Peter said earnestly.

“What happened to you Peter? Who did this to you?” Sayid asked seeing the blood soaked t-shirt he had on and the blood stains on the back of the pants he was wearing. Sayid grimaced; he could guess what they’d done. Peter got upset almost immediately, “I can’t talk about it much Sayid, and I need to leave here right away. I was here when they kidnapped me at gunpoint…It was the ‘Others’ I think. They had on those Dharma jumpsuits although they said they had split off from them…they did this to me.”

“They whipped you like your father did, didn’t they?” Sayid asked. Peter shook his head yes and tears ran down his face. He looked down at the ground and couldn’t look Sayid in the eyes. He didn’t want to see his reaction when he told him the next part. Sayid felt his gut tighten, he knew Peter well enough to know that when he looked away he was telling something painful that he didn’t want to.

“They gang raped me Sayid. There were six of them. They sexually tortured me and abused me. It was the worse thing I’ve even been through. Please get me back to Jack, I’m all tore up and barely holding it together,” he cried.

“Sons of bitches,” Sayid swore, “they need to be brought to justice for doing this to you. They are predators of the worse kind.” Peter used the back of his hand to wipe tears from his face and Sayid saw how raw and blistered his wrists were from the rope burns. He asked Peter if there was anything he could do, and Peter said just get him back to the hatch so Jack could look at him. Sayid led him back up the path towards the hatch.

Sayid tried to fill him in on what had been going on since he’d been kidnapped. He said a lot had occurred and that Jack and Sawyer had only figured out the next day that he was missing. They’d had a search party looking in circled areas further and further out. Sayid had volunteered today to come back to the lagoon to see if he could find any other traces or clues. They were planning on leaving immediately when he returned. Sayid thought it was good to distract Peter while they were heading back. He told Peter about Charlie apparently going off the deep end so to speak the night he had disappeared. He kept talking about dreams and having “visions” which everyone seemed to think were probably drug-induced hallucinations. Charlie kept trying to take Claire’s baby boy Aaron, insisting that the baby was in danger and that it had to be baptized. That night Charlie had lit a fire in the brush right near the campsite, that threatened to burn down all their shelters, but they had been able to put it out. Charlie took baby Aaron down to the shore line and was distraught. Locke had taken the baby back from him and clocked him twice, telling him to stay away from Claire and the baby.

Peter was amazed and said he didn’t think that Charlie was doing drugs but he couldn’t explain why he was so wigged out. He also told Sayid, that it seemed like everyone was having bouts of temporary craziness, that Charlie wasn’t the only one.

Sayid said he hadn’t told him about the big upset yet. Peter wasn’t sure he wanted to hear about it from Sayid’s tone of voice. Sayid told him that someone had attacked Sun and dragged her away from her garden with a sack over her head. She remained unconscious for a while. Everyone was suspicious about what was occurring. Kate even suspected that maybe Ana Lucia might have been involved trying to get everyone to join their army. Sawyer had tricked Locke into moving the guns from the hatch by telling him that Jack was coming to get them and give them out. Someone had helped him and it had ended with Sun bloody, Locke and Jack confused, Kate and Ana-Lucia glaring at each other, the guns from the hatch hidden somewhere and Sawyer telling everyone that he controlled the guns and that they’d have to come to him to borrow a gun. Peter stopped in the path to breathe, shook his head and just moaned.

“I can’t believe that Sawyer would do something so lame. It always goes back to power for him and Jack both. It makes me nuts. The only good thing is that I wasn’t here for all that shit, or people would have thought I was involved in it.”

“I think anyone who sees you will believe you,” Sayid said to him. Peter sighed. He couldn’t believe Sawyer had succeeded at pissing everyone off at him again. Peter had to ask Sayid to stop and rest about half way back to the hatch. Sayid could tell he was weak, very uncomfortable and in pain. As they finally approached the hatch it was close to mid-day. Sayid said that Jack and Sawyer were both probably still at the beach, but he would come in and get Peter settled before heading back out to look for them.