Sports Fan Fiction ❯ Punishment ❯ Stained Rose No More ( Chapter 13 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: NotEpicProportions 
Kurt Busch keeps a secret.
Disclaimer: I do not know, nor own, any of the characters in this story. It is a work of fiction and not intended to be an accurate description of the day to day lives of any NASCAR drivers.
Miscellaneous: Sports Fan Fiction | Genre(s): / Hentai / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 08.21.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 471 | Visits: 147 | Status: Work In Progress
Kurt Busch keeps a secret.
Disclaimer: I do not know, nor own, any of the characters in this story. It is a work of fiction and not intended to be an accurate description of the day to day lives of any NASCAR drivers.
Miscellaneous: Sports Fan Fiction | Genre(s): / Hentai / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 08.21.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 471 | Visits: 147 | Status: Work In Progress
Stained Rose No More.
The words echoed in Kurt's head. He was certain they'd believed he wasn't listening, wasn't coherent, but he was. He heard every word that they'd said. He'd listened intently as they spoke of the words now carved into his aching chest. Words that meant his torment had finally ended.
"Oh, sweetheart, oh god, you're finally awake," Carl's relieved voice floated across him, and lips grazed his temple, "You're awake. You alive and you're awake and you're back with me."
He tried to smile softly, but even the corners of his mouth were filled with such intense pain that it became more of a grimace. Every inch of his body hurt. He was battered, bruised, and sliced. Pain burned through him more intensely than any time before. All that had happened was clear in his mind. He had forgotten nothing.
And he knew, he remembered.
"Kurt, honey, you recognized him, didn't you," Carl asked quietly.
His body shuddered. He had been hoping Carl hadn't seen the tape, hadn't known all that had occurred, but that hope was lost. He didn't want to lie, he hated lying, but he had no choice.
"I—I don't remember," he managed to croak, his throat aching from the battering it had taken, "Everything is, is so fuzzy."
The Voice's final warning to him floated through his memory. The Voice had revealed his next intended victim. And made it clear that, should Kurt reveal his identity, or anything that he now knew, Carl would become the next victim instead. Though his stomach turned at the thought of letting another man be harmed by his tormentor, he could not, would not, sacrifice Carl.
A hand brushed gently over his hair, "But Kurt, you really seemed to know who it was. Honey, if you know, you have to say something. There are other people we have to think of."
Kevin and Matt. Carl didn't know it, but Kevin and Matt were next. They would face The Voice and he would destroy them both. Kurt had the knowledge, but could do nothing with it.
His eyes trailed over Carl and tears began to ease from his eyes. He wanted to help them, wanted to save them from the fate that they were sure to encounter, but he could not. Losing Carl, after all that he had already lost, would have destroyed him. Kevin and Matt would have to fend for themselves, he reasoned with himself. There was nothing left for him to do.
"I know that, Carl," he whispered, "I simply can't remember. Can we please not talk about this anymore?"
The words echoed in Kurt's head. He was certain they'd believed he wasn't listening, wasn't coherent, but he was. He heard every word that they'd said. He'd listened intently as they spoke of the words now carved into his aching chest. Words that meant his torment had finally ended.
"Oh, sweetheart, oh god, you're finally awake," Carl's relieved voice floated across him, and lips grazed his temple, "You're awake. You alive and you're awake and you're back with me."
He tried to smile softly, but even the corners of his mouth were filled with such intense pain that it became more of a grimace. Every inch of his body hurt. He was battered, bruised, and sliced. Pain burned through him more intensely than any time before. All that had happened was clear in his mind. He had forgotten nothing.
And he knew, he remembered.
"Kurt, honey, you recognized him, didn't you," Carl asked quietly.
His body shuddered. He had been hoping Carl hadn't seen the tape, hadn't known all that had occurred, but that hope was lost. He didn't want to lie, he hated lying, but he had no choice.
"I—I don't remember," he managed to croak, his throat aching from the battering it had taken, "Everything is, is so fuzzy."
The Voice's final warning to him floated through his memory. The Voice had revealed his next intended victim. And made it clear that, should Kurt reveal his identity, or anything that he now knew, Carl would become the next victim instead. Though his stomach turned at the thought of letting another man be harmed by his tormentor, he could not, would not, sacrifice Carl.
A hand brushed gently over his hair, "But Kurt, you really seemed to know who it was. Honey, if you know, you have to say something. There are other people we have to think of."
Kevin and Matt. Carl didn't know it, but Kevin and Matt were next. They would face The Voice and he would destroy them both. Kurt had the knowledge, but could do nothing with it.
His eyes trailed over Carl and tears began to ease from his eyes. He wanted to help them, wanted to save them from the fate that they were sure to encounter, but he could not. Losing Carl, after all that he had already lost, would have destroyed him. Kevin and Matt would have to fend for themselves, he reasoned with himself. There was nothing left for him to do.
"I know that, Carl," he whispered, "I simply can't remember. Can we please not talk about this anymore?"