Love Me When I’m Gone ~ Chapter 9

 

 

 

Fueled by his last thoughts before sleep, Booth’s dreams began exactly the way he’d hoped.

 

 

They came together frantically. Kissing and groping each other as if they had only moments to memorize each other’s feel and taste.

 

He lifted her up, pressed her back against the refrigerator, rocking it with the impact of their bodies. Crashing sounds came from inside.

 

Their mouths mashed and slid across each other, seeking to fuse together even as their bodies rubbed frantically, searching for the other through the layers of clothing between them.

 

Frustrated, he put his hands under her ass and lifted her up. Her legs locked firmly around his waist, squeezing and demanding. He shoved against her, thrusting into the hot cradle of her thighs, rocking the refrigerator into the wall behind it, gouging holes in the plaster.

 

Unable to find hot, wet flesh, he turned them and moved blindly toward the table. Flat would help. Flat was good.

 

Tea cups and crackers – everything was shoved to the floor as he pushed her down onto the tabletop.

 

She pulled him down with her, one arm around his neck, the other wrapped up around his head, her fingers jerking at his hair.

 

His mouth never left hers as he tore at her shirt. Buttons gave and fabric ripped until flesh was exposed. Her hands were working between them, jerking his pants down and grabbing his aching cock.

 

Breath hissed in between his bared teeth in painful joy. Her panties were shreds between his fingers, tearing the barriers away.

 

She cried out, almost snarling as he shoved his cock deep inside of her. No worries about hurting her, no need for foreplay, she was as wet as if they’d spent hours walking the bases.

 

When the table tried to tip over, he raised up, grinning down at her as he pumped in and out of her wet pussy. It wasn’t about the sex – but then they’d hadn’t been allowed the sex.

 

Hot, hard gasps came from her as he plunged into her and jerked out with all his strength. Her smile was feral, eyes green with lust and she reached up to tear her bra open, exposing her breasts. They jiggled frantically, the pink nipples matching his thrusts, demanding attention.

 

No way could he resist them. Lowering his mouth, he suckled at them, cupping them with his hands and holding them captive while she squirmed and moaned under him.

 

From the edge of his vision, he saw pale fingers caress her throat. They trailed across the scar he’d put there when he’d tasted her, when she’d offered herself up to save him and they had shared that perfect union.

 

“Is that how it was?”

 

He ignored the soft voice. Focused on the perfect pink nipples and the tight heat around his cock.

 

“Wasn’t it more like rape?”

 

No. He shook his head, rubbing against her breasts. Pushing his face into the soft valley between them, he hid from the voice.

 

“Fed from her to save yourself.”

 

His strokes faltered and she cried out softly for him to give her more, more, her legs squeezing the breath out of him.

 

“Took her on the floor like an animal. Down in the filth. Treated her like a whore.”

 

“No! It wasn’t like that!” He raised up, protesting the lie. Fearing deep down it was the truth.

 

On the other side of the table a man smirked at him. No, not a man. A monster. Himself.

 

“All that nobility went right out the window when it came to saving yourself, didn’t it?”

 

“She – she made me – “

 

“That’s the lie you tell yourself. To ease your conscience.” The other man put on a pious expression. “Oh, forgive me. She made me. I couldn’t help myself.”

 

“I was weak!”

 

“You’ve always been weak.” She sat up and shoved him away.

 

“That’s why you left her.” The Other smirked. “You knew she’d figure out how pathetic you really are.”

 

“No – I’m a good man – they gave me a sign! They gave me redemption!”

 

“Please…”  The Other rolled his eyes. “They threw you a bone.”

 

She turned to the Other. “Take me – I’ve always wanted you more than him.”

 

“Anything you want, baby. I never left you.”

 

He watched helplessly as the Other scooped her up and carried her away, blonde head resting under his chin. Safe as houses.

 

“No! Wait!”

 

“For what, dear boy?”

 

He turned, the other woman was there – brassy blonde hair curled around her face, the tips coated with blood. “I’m ready – no need to wait.”

 

“No – “ He found himself on the floor, the other woman astride him, riding his cock like he was a toy for her pleasure.

 

Over her grunts and moans, he heard other sounds. Sobbing, whimpering, painful terrified sounds.

 

Next to them lay a dark haired girl with exotic, olive skin. A gypsy? Her hands were tied and her clothes had been torn away. Bruises and bite marks covered her skin. Blood speckled her thighs.

 

“She was fun, wasn’t she?” The woman breathed into his ear. “Too bad about the price.”

 

“Price?”

 

“Now this one – “

 

The room changed, the fireplace and soft rugs changing to cold stone.

 

“She was free – “

 

 Around him were dead bodies. Women in black.

Nuns, his mind recognized.

 

“Hard, Angelus! Fuck her hard!”

 

He blinked. He was on top of a young woman –  hardly more than a girl. His hands held her thighs wide apart, fingers digging into her soft flesh and leaving bruises, and his cock was at the opening of her pussy.

 

“Now! Do it now!” The blonde bared her fangs in excitement.

 

The girl shrieked in pain as he forced himself inside of her. Her virginity ripped away, and he reveled in it. Thrust harder and harder, making each shriek from her lips a symphony.

 

“No! What am I doing?” He tried to stop, to pull away, but found he was a helpless captive in his own body.

 

“You?” A laugh reverberated through his mind and past his lips. “You’ve never done anything.”

 

Turning, he found himself facing the other man again. No – facing himself.

 

“Please…” The Other drawled. “You could never be me.”

 

The Other went back to the rape of the young woman, baring gruesome fangs and ripping into her throat.

 

Her screams choked off abruptly, becoming moans of pleasure, her arms snaking around his neck to hold him closer while he murdered her.

 

Again the room changed, pulsing around him as he found himself in bed, sandwiched between the blond woman and the woman he’d just violated. Fondling them both, taking turns fucking them. A cock in his own personal hen house.

 

Laughing, they rolled around on the bed, carelessly shoving the body of a dead young man to the floor. The man’s eyes were accusing as they looked into his. The body was naked and bloody, marred by bruises and bites and pale from blood stolen.

 

He pushed himself off the bed and turned to run, but found his way blocked by the Other.

 

“The fun’s not over yet, Soul Boy.”

 

“Get out of my way!” He shoved his way past the Other and ran.

 

Heart strangely quiet, lungs empty of air, he ran outside. Fog curled along the ground, sensuously hugging lampposts and the legs of the man beside him.

 

“Now that was fun.”

 

He looked at the young man standing beside him. Dirty blonde hair falling around the face – stray curls falling into the ice blue eyes.

 

“Fun?” He repeated stupidly.

 

“Too bad there was just the one – “ The younger man licked blood from his fingers. “She didn’t last long – got my willy all hard for nothing.”

 

He was suddenly conscious of his own cock. Hard and throbbing. Lust rushed through him and he began to pant.

 

“No – “ This was all wrong. The woman at his feet glared at him with her dead eyes, and he put his hands over his face to hide.

 

Sticky. His fingers were sticky.

 

He looked at them.

 

Blood.

 

They were covered in blood.

 

He scrubbed his hands on his pants.

 

“Here now!”

 

Cool hands grabbed his wrists.

 

“Didn’t you say never waste a drop?”

 

He watched as the young man raised his bloody hands to his mouth and began to lick them clean.

 

The pale pink tongue ignited the lust already pulsing through his body. He needed to fuck!

 

Pushing the blonde man against the wall, he crushed his lips to his, sucking the taste of blood from the soft lips. He grabbed his face and held it still while he plundered the soft, wet mouth, shoving his tongue in to taste.

 

His body ground against the younger man’s, pinning him to the wall and humping against him urgently.

 

Hands were squeezing his ass, pulling him closer. Shoving a hand between their bodies, he pulled open the young man’s pants. A hard cock, cool and smooth found its way into his hand and he stroked it.

 

“Yes – yes – “ A hand was shoved roughly down the back of his pants, and his ass was squeezed and stroked. Clutched and pumped.

 

It wasn’t enough.

 

Grabbing the younger man, he spun him around and shoved him face first against the stone wall.

 

“Bloody hell, what are you doing?”

 

He panted against the dirty blonde curls, nipping at the back of his neck. Pulling the pale cheeks apart, he pressed his cock against the tightly clenched opening.

 

“No – damn it – “ The younger man struggled but couldn’t break free.

 

Grunting, he lunged forward, forcing a scream from the young man.

 

What was he doing? He tried to pull away, but his body refused to obey him. He continued to pump in and out – relishing the struggles and cries of pain. When the young man began to beg and cry, he gripped his hips and pulled him back, bending him over and forcing him down on to his knees for better leverage. More depth. More pain.

 

“I’m not – I can’t – “ He was horrified at his own actions and the pleasure rippling through his body.

 

“No. Of course not.” The Other was leaning against the wall beside them. “Good heavens! You’re buggering another man!” The evil eyes widened dramatically. “What would good Father Mahoney think? Let’s stop him from buggering the altar boy long enough to ask!”

 

The Other chuckled at his own joke and ran a hand over the young man’s curls. “Poor Willy, he wasn’t expecting this.”

 

He couldn’t stop. With one hand he dug his fingers into the soft skin of a pale hip, jerking the younger man’s body back to meet his forward thrusts. His free hand stroked and squeezed the younger man’s cock, his own cock driving deeper and harder. The rip and tear of the tight body bucking against his fueled him to fuck the younger man that much harder.

 

He curled himself over the younger man’s back and licked at the tears on his cheeks. “Having fun now, Willy?”

 

“Please, Angelus! Please stop!”

 

He wanted to. Wanted to stop the pain and suffering he was causing. Why couldn’t he stop?

 

“Not much fun being trapped inside your own body, is it?” The Other sneered.

 

“I’m in hell.” He moaned even as he came in cool spurts.

 

“Not yet.”

 

Abruptly, the dream changed again and he found himself watching the Other fighting a dainty blonde girl. He recognized her. Who was she? Wait… she was the one he’d been in the kitchen with, on the table making love to –

 

“Oh yeah…” The Other smirked as he parried her blade. “’Making love.’ Sure you were. You couldn’t have been fucking.” Laughing, he ducked and spun away from her. “Screwing like bunnies.”

 

“It wasn’t like that!” He protested.

 

“Sure, it’s not about the sex.” She snickered.

 

He knew her. The woman from the gun show. Younger and more innocent.

 

The clang and crash of their swords met as they danced around each other. Deadly slices cut close.

 

The Other pressed viciously, gaining the advantage, and she stumbled back. He held his breath as she faltered, but she quickly recovered and the fight continued.

 

A buzzing filled his ears. Faint, faraway chanting. Something tugged at him, pulling him toward the duelers.

 

“What – wait – “ He resisted, but the unseen force pulled him closer. Closer until he collided with the Other.

 

The chanting grew to a shout and a roar and he suddenly found himself on his knees facing her.

 

“Where are we?” He looked up at her.

 

“Angel?”

 

Her lips were sweet on his.

 

“Close your eyes.”

 

He obeyed, trusting her with his heart and soul. And yet he could still see.

 

The anguished look on her face as she made her dreadful decision.

 

the agony in her eyes.

 

the sword trembling in her grasp.

 

the point of the blade pierce his chest.

 

Agony tore his eyes open and his scream echoed through the room.

 

Helplessly, he reached for her. He watched her face, the tears she shed as he was pulled away.

 

The light disappeared. Sucked away into blackness.

 

Black.

 

Cold.

 

He was suspended.

 

Weightless.

 

Blind.

 

“You have failed me.”

 

The voice broke the darkness. Rasping out in icy gusts.

 

“Failed me.”

 

“Who are you? Where am I?” He demanded into the darkness.

 

Something cold slithered over his skin and he flinched.

 

“A soul?”

 

Ice formed on his skin as the unseen presence began to laugh.

 

“A soul!”

 

Pain, sharp and piercing began at his feet, moved up his legs. Pain as if a million needles were being jabbed into his flesh.

 

Shrieking, he struggled to pull away, but he was held immobile, unable to move so much as an inch.

 

Helpless in the dark, he searched frantically for some source of light – of help.

 

As if he’d wished it into existence, he saw a small red spark. One, then two.

 

The sparks revealed themselves as eyes. A reddish glow began to grow, revealing a small creature with pointed ears and a face full of needlelike teeth. Paws ending in viciously curved claws.

 

It moved toward him, drool dripping from its mouth to sizzle in the darkness.

 

More red eyes, more of the creatures. Two, ten, fifty, hundreds, thousands – more than he could count. More than his mind could comprehend. He shrieked again as he watched the swarm of creatures crawl over themselves to reach him.

 

They climbed his legs, tearing at his clothes, ripping into his skin, burrowing under his flesh in search of something. Fire blossomed with each bite, searing and hot as lava. His skin began to melt and burn away.

 

He screamed in agony as they devoured him from inside and out. Screamed until his tongue became their meal and he could only whimper in anguish.

 

“Dirty little bastards, aren’t they?”

 

The Other was there, standing aloof to one side, leather coat pulled tightly around himself.

 

“Created by the mother church, can you believe it? Created to kill evil, eat the flesh, and salvage the soul. Of course… the sinner died from the cure, but the soul was saved.”

 

The Other chuckled. “They can eat your flesh forever. It’ll grow back.”

 

He flinched as the Other leaned closer. Somehow he feared this evil version of himself more than all these creatures and more than the voice in the dark as it continued to freeze the air with its rants of betrayal.

 

“Their slobber is holy water – “ The Other smirked at him. “Nice touch, don’t you think?”

 

One of the creatures crawled onto his head and began clawing at his left eye.

 

Unable to turn away or defend himself, he screamed at the new pain. A river of fire ran down his face and into the now empty socket.

 

“Now, Soul Boy, now you’re in hell.” The Other gave a cheery mock salute and vanished.

 

“Why couldn’t you stay dead?” Lockley stepped out of the darkness. She tipped up a bottle and drank from it. “Why? Just go back to that alley you died in and stay dead this time!”

 

She threw the bottle at him. It exploded in his face, consuming his body in fire.