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Tom opened the front door to see a man pointing a weapon at him. There was a sharp pinch in his shoulder.
“What the–ˮ he didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before he was suddenly overcome with vertigo. He staggered back a step, trying to keep his balance on legs that suddenly seemed to be made of rubber. The man at the door was smirking at him. “H-Harry,” Tom slurred out, but couldn’t seem to get any volume. He staggered again, his back hitting the hallway wall, and he slid to the ground in a heap. The man at the door stepped through it, followed quickly by four other men Tom hadn’t seen. The last one shut and locked the door behind him.
“Tom?” Harry rounded the corner, having heard the thump of his partner falling to the floor. Seeing the five strangers clustered around Tom’s prone form, Harry’s eyes widened, and he whirled and sprinted for the living room and the computer console. He didn’t even get two steps before the nearest man leapt forward and wrapped an arm around his neck, dragging him off his feet. Harry tried to twist and strike his attacker, but another man stepped forward and seized him by the ankles, lifting him helplessly up in the air. Two of the other men grabbed Tom in a similar fashion, and the whole group moved towards the kitchen, Harry’s shouts strangled by the chokehold. Tom’s head was whirling; in the space of two minutes, everything had gone to hell. Who were these people? What did they want?
Once they were in the kitchen, Tom was dropped roughly on the tiles, and he slumped limply into the corner. He couldn’t move a muscle; whatever he’d been hit with had completely paralysed him. The man who had shot him crouched in front of him, the vindictive smirk still on his face.
“Remember me, Paris?” Tom stared at him wide-eyed, at a complete loss. Behind him, Harry was still struggling against the chokehold he was in. The man holding him grabbed his right wrist and twisted his arm up behind his back; Harry grimaced in pain. Tom felt a surge of anger, and tried desperately to move his limbs; he couldn’t so much as lift a finger. Seeing he wasn’t holding Tom’s attention, the first man slapped him across the face, snapping his head to one side. Harry growled angrily, renewing his struggle.
“I asked you a question, killer,” the man snarled, clenching Tom’s jaw and jerking his head back to face forward. Tom’s stomach flopped; ‘killer?’ Did this have something to do with…. “I’m Haden Katajavuori,” the man growled, his eyes flashing with hate. Tom’s blood turned to ice in his veins. Seeing the recognition, Haden chuckled darkly. “That’s right; you killed my brother.” Hearing these words, Harry stilled.
“No,” he protested, “it was an accident.” Haden didn’t take his eyes off Tom.
“Is that right, Paris? Was it an accident when you tried to blame my brother for the crash? When you told the tribunal it was navigator error, not pilot error?” Harry’s gaze turned to Tom; his confusion and hurt cut Tom to the bone. Haden punched Tom in the stomach, causing him to slump limply forward. Harry cried out in protest once more. “You killed him, and then you dragged his name through the mud!” Haden snarled. He grabbed Tom by the shoulders and slammed him back against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. “Then, when the truth came out, daddy used his influence so that all the punishment you got was a few months in some cushy southern resort. And Starfleet tried to call that justice!” He shouted in Tom’s face, shaking him back and forth like a rag doll.
“Stop it!” Harry called out. “It was an accident, and Tom was sentenced fairly. His whole life was ruined!”
“Shut him up!” Haden snapped. The man holding Harry tightened his grip around his neck; his face reddened, his mouth open in a gasp for air he couldn’t get. “At least he still had a life,” Haden growled over his shoulder. “And then he gets himself lost in space, gets his rank and status restored, and comes back a hero. Does that sound fair?” He seized Tom by the throat, leaning forward until they were almost nose-to-nose. “Is that justice, Paris?” he hissed. Tom couldn’t breathe, and couldn’t even struggle to free himself, as helpless as a fish on a hook. Just as his vision was starting to darken, Haden let go of him. Tom’s chest heaved, desperately trying to suck in oxygen. Haden chuckled darkly. “Having a hard time breathing? Well, you’re a big enough guy, that dose probably won’t paralyse your diaphragm and suffocate you.” Harry made a gurgling noise, still struggling against his captor.
“I thought about just killing you, of course, when I heard you were back on earth,” Haden went on, the cold smile back on his face. “But that would have been letting you off easy. Then you wouldn’t suffer, like you made me suffer. But you don’t have a brother, do you? Just him.” He jerked his head at Harry, and a chill of horror went through Tom. Haden gripped Tom’s face again, hard enough to bruise. “Do you know what they used to do to men like you in prison, Paris?” A wolfish grin split his face. “Here, let me show you.” He rose and turned to face Harry, who was now wide-eyed and pale.
Haden nodded to the other men, who sprang into action. Surrounding Harry, they began to literally tear his clothes off. His t-shirt came off him in shreds, and his track pants were ripped nearly in two. Harry kicked and screamed the whole time, but he had no hope against the four men. Last went his underwear, torn along with his skin as he fought like an animal in a trap. Tom’s head was screaming at him to move, to do something, but he could only watch, powerless.
The men threw Harry face down across the kitchen table, sending their padds and breakfast dishes crashing to the floor. One man circled the table and grabbed Harry’s wrists, holding them in place above his head. Haden came up behind him, and to Tom’s horror, he saw he had already exposed himself, and was rubbing himself to hardness. He looked directly at Tom, his smile cruel and predatory. “I’m going to take everything from you, Tom Paris. Just watch me.” He pressed up against Harry, spreading his buttocks.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” Harry growled, trying to wrench his wrists free from the other man’s grasp. “You can’t do this.” Haden ignored him, lining himself up against Harry’s opening. Harry’s terrified gaze met Tom’s eyes for a single moment before he turned away again; he wouldn’t let these bastards use him to destroy Tom. Haden thrust violently forward, breaching Harry’s body in a single movement. Harry struggled to bite back the scream of pain as the man entered him dry, trying intentionally to tear him. But the second thrust, even more painful, dragged a howl of agony from him despite his best efforts. It felt like he was being fucked with a knife, every movement ripping him open just as effectively. Haden slammed gleefully into him again and again, smearing blood across his thighs and buttocks.
Tom felt close to madness, watching his lover’s face twist in pain and humiliation while he sat locked in his own body. He tried again and again to raise a hand, to sit upright, to make any sort of attempt to stop the horror in front of him.
Haden’s fingers dug into Harry’s hips, pulling him back onto his cock as he thrust forwards. Harry was still trying to resist, trying to hide his pain from Tom. He buried his face in his arms as the man fucked him, his blood lubricating the violation. Haden’s pace picked up, his thrusts growing deeper as he neared orgasm. Harry wanted to scream; he prayed he would pass out so he wouldn’t have to feel the man finish with his body. But he felt every movement as his rapist grunted, sweat dripping onto his back, his rhythm stuttering to short snaps of his hips as his ejaculate flooded into Harry. Harry trembled with pain and disgust, trying to block it all out. Haden jerked back out of Harry, sending another stab of pain up through his abdomen. The man turned back to Tom with a grin of triumph.
“How does it feel, Paris, watching me fuck your boyfriend?” He crossed to where Tom sat and rubbed his softening penis across his face, smearing blood and semen on his cheeks. “Did you hear him scream when I stuck my cock in him? How does his blood smell?” Tom felt bile rising in his throat, but he tried to hold it back; if he vomited like this, he would probably choke to death. He had to live long enough to rip this monster limb from limb. Haden laughed derisively at the hatred in Tom’s eyes. “We’re just getting started, killer!” Turning back to the table, he jerked his head at his comrades. “He’s all yours.” His four accomplices turned and grabbed Harry up off the table. Harry gave a yelp of shock as he was thrown to the floor, and tried to scramble under the table. Before he could move half a foot, one of the men was mounting him, burying his cock to the hilt in Harry’s abused hole. Harry screamed in pain, but the scream was cut short by another of the men jamming his penis in his mouth.
“If you bite, I’ll cut your boyfriend’s dick off,” the man snarled, before starting to fuck Harry’s throat. Harry tried to twist away, but the man pounding him from behind grabbed both his wrists and yanked his arms back, holding him up for the man in front. The other two men were stimulating themselves and grabbing at Harry, obviously eager for their own turns. Haden had Tom by the hair, unnecessarily holding his head in place as he forced him to watch the brutal gang-rape.
“Look, they’re tearing him to shreds,” he said with a nasty chuckle. “It looks like it hurts, doesn’t it?” Tom’s chest was heaving, soundless screams echoing in his head. Tears were running down his cheeks as he watched the nightmare unfold. The man in Harry’s mouth pulled back and ejaculated across his face. Harry grimaced and tried to turn away in disgust. The man punched him in the jaw, knocking him loose from the grip of the man behind and dropping him face-first into the floor. Then another man was elbowing him out of the way and pulled Harry up by the hair, his nose bloody. Harry tried to push him away, but the man shoved his face against his pubic hair and jammed his penis into his mouth. Harry groaned miserably. The man behind him finished, and was replaced by the fourth man.
Tom closed his eyes, unable to watch anymore. His mind was about to break from the horror and helplessness. Haden quickly noticed and, infuriated, shook Tom by the hair so hard he tore nearly the whole handful out.
“You are going to watch this whole thing, you piece of shit,” he snarled. Tom kept his eyes closed; it was the only resistance he had left to him. Haden drew a knife from his belt and jammed it into Tom’s shoulder. Tom’s eyes flew open with a grunt, his breath stuttering in his chest. He tried to scream in agony, but no more sound came out. “Watch!” Haden bellowed at him, twisting the knife. Tom turned back to the horrendous scene, but his eyes wouldn’t focus. He could hear the slap of flesh on flesh, the grunts of the brutish men, and the soft groans and whimpers of his lover as they abused him. It suddenly occurred to him that the men had made no attempt to hide their faces, and were even now leaving their DNA everywhere. They weren’t going to let Harry and him live. They were going to dispose of their bodies somewhere no one could ever find them- maybe burn them or disintegrate them. These moments were the last of Tom’s life, and they were worse than his worst nightmares of hell.
Harry had stopped struggling, his strength finally exhausted. The first two men had recovered and were raping him again. He was smeared all over with blood and semen, and he couldn’t think of anything other than the pain in his body. He had never been in so much pain; he imagined this was what it felt like to be eaten alive by a pack of lions. They kept jerking and pulling him every direction, hitting him, pinning him down, stabbing their bodies into his. He prayed over and over for it to end, but it seemed the torture would go on forever.
Tom was fading in and out of consciousness, blood running down his right side from the knife wound. He didn’t know how many times he jerked back to reality to see Harry still pinned between the four men, his face a mask of agony, but it felt like they had been living in this excruciating moment for years. It took him a while to notice that Haden was muttering almost constantly in his ear, alternately cursing him and mocking him. He did notice when the man wrenched the knife out of his shoulder, stopping his breath as agony coursed through him. Haden placed the bloody point against his forearm and sliced open four inches of skin.
“Does that hurt, Paris?” Haden purred in his ear. “Are you suffering?” He cut his arm again, deeper this time. Tom managed a short, high-pitched moan, wanting to scream until his throat split.
The sounds from across the room suddenly stilled, as the four men rose to their feet, adjusting their clothes, leaving Harry in a shuddering heap on the floor.
“Well, looks like your lover is all used up,” Haden said smugly. “How does that feel?” Tom barely heard him, his attention all fixed on Harry. He would have given anything to be able to go to him, comfort him- get him out of this nightmare. “Bring him,” Haden commanded. The words reached Harry, and he whimpered in terror. He dragged himself under the kitchen table, amongst the broken remains of their morning.
“Help me,” he moaned. Tom’s heart clenched painfully. The men grabbed Harry by the ankles and dragged him out, bits of broken crockery embedded in his skin. They pulled him up on his knees as Haden rose from beside Tom, the dripping knife still in his hand.
“Here it is, Paris: all that remains of what you love most.” He circled around Harry and grabbed him by the hair, tilting his head back. Harry groaned, his body trembling. “Get one last look,” Haden said, placing the knife against Harry’s throat. Harry’s eyes flew wide in terror. Tom’s mind snapped. He had to move, had to get up, had to stop him! Harry, no, Harry!
“Drop the knife.” All the men whirled to the kitchen doorway in utter shock. Tom recognized the voice instantly, without being able to turn his head. Tuvok stood with a phaser pointed at Haden. Tom suddenly saw the padd where it had been knocked off the table: right where Harry had dragged himself the moment he got a chance. “A Starfleet security team will be here momentarily,” Tuvok said, his hand unwavering as he trained the phaser on Haden’s head. Haden’s eyes were wild, but he kept an iron grip on Harry, the knife pressed threateningly against his throat. “There is no escape.” Haden’s gaze flickered to Tom, and his eyes flashed with pure hatred. Tom’s heart stopped; he tried desperately to scream. Haden would take Harry out with him. He couldn’t stop him. Tuvok’s well-honed instinct evidently told him the same thing, and he fired without hesitation. Harry cried out as Haden flew backwards, the knife dragging a line of red across his throat as he fell. Tom’s vision blurred. It was too late. Harry would die because of him.
There was a flurry of shouts and trampling feet. Tom’s vision cleared to see Harry kneeling over him, the cut on his neck only just deep enough to draw blood. Tom let out a sob of relief, trying desperately to move his arms to draw Harry into them. He was still paralysed. Harry’s hands were on his shoulder, trying to staunch the flow of blood. Behind him, Tuvok stood looking down at Haden’s body while the security team swarmed in and arrested the four accomplices.
“It’s okay Tom,” Harry murmured, his hands trembling as he applied pressure. “We’re going to be okay.” Tom closed his eyes, wishing he could believe him.