Chapter Text
Nathaniels POV- 16
The cuts covering his body sting horribly, but he doesn’t dare flinch or even whimper as Riko ties the fabric tighter around his face before shoving him back under the showers spray, the liquid filling his mouth creates a sick gurgling sound, drowned out slightly by delighted laughter.
Hands roam his scarred body, nails digging into cuts and bruises, this process repeats for what feels like days before he wakes up to Jean stitching him up talking in quiet French to Kevin who is sat on the edge of his bed.
Neil knows his body must be covered in blood and various other liquids, making the already disgusting sight of him even worse, he tries to speak, to tell Jean not to touch him, afraid he’ll make him dirty but all that he manages is a weak choked sound, his trembling hand reaches up to his throat finding the flesh tender from vicious hands, the French man sat next to him runs hands through his curly hair to soothe him, barely minutes later Neil passes out from exhaustion, aware he’ll still be expected to practice even in this condition.
He wakes to loud shouting and thumping on the door, “Jean! Nathaniel! Riko’s looking for you! Hurry up!” familiar voices shout, startling both boys awake instantly, scrambling into their uniforms. They rush to the door, Nathaniel gets there first, opening the door and coming face to face with Reacher and Johnson, predatory grins on their twisted faces as they stalk closer “Jean. Go and find Kevin.” Neil orders sternly, Jean looks conflicted, frozen in place. “Nate-”, “Jean go.” after a moment’s hesitation he sprints past the two backliners into the hall, just as the men grab Neil's uniform.
That morning consists of rough touches and blood, teeth marks adorning his skin, like some sick piece of art, cuts added to his massacred back, the treatment continues for what feels like hours, eventually it all just goes numb, like every other time, once the men finally leave, he staggers to his feet stumbling forward towards the bathroom, a shattered mess where the mirror had once been.
Riko hadn’t deemed it necessary to replace, though Neil had a long night when he found out, teeth, calloused hands and torn open wrists was all he could recall.
He rinses his body, cleaning every inch of skin till it’s raw, trying his best to keep his face out of the spray until necessary when he comes out with a towel tied at his hip, Jean is back, Kevin at his side, both of their eyes full of worry and regret. “Nate- I shouldn’t have left you- I’m so sorry-“jean rambles unshed tears filling his eyes.
“It wasn’t you’re fault Frenchie” is Neil’s reply, his voice hoarse but sure.
“But-“ “Jean. I said it wasn’t your fault and it never has been.”
“Nate-“ Jean says his name, almost pleadingly eyes full of emotion.
Nathaniel’s alarm blares, telling them they must get ready for practices, Kevin exits their room, heading into his to get ready.
Neil gathers his clothes from the floor, quickly inspecting them for any bodily fluids before tugging them on, roughly drying his damp auburn hair, he and Jean jog through the halls until they reach the locker rooms where every Raven is changing into their respective gear as well as collecting racquets of varying weight.
Neil’s stomach twists slightly as he recalls the impact of many into his torso, Jean’s subtle grip on his wrist is a comfortable weight to keep him tethered to the present as they change out.
He changes quickly, the eyes of many burning into his and jean’s bodies as they tug off their hoodies. All the other players avert their gaze when Riko shouts for at them to hurry up onto the court, they all scramble to obey, they then get split into two teams by the Master for scrimmages.
Neil has been put on a team with Kevin, Riko and Jean standing parallel to them, they win first serve, he watches as the dealer sends the ball back to Holden, the goalkeeper, who smashes the ball up court, every player breaks formation, Kevin bursting into a sprint only for the ball to be intercepted by jean once it ricochets off the plexiglass, Jean passes to Riko who charges forward only to get cut off by Nathaniel who pops the ball from his net using practiced movement despite the ache in his muscles from the mornings… “activities”, an all too familiar scowl twists the older man's features as he brutally checks Nate into the closet wall, the impact causing his head to smash against it.
Pain blooms despite the helmet. Something warm and sticky drips down his forehead. Blood, crimson in colour, as he gets to his feet, the goal behind him lights up red he mutters quiet curses as The Master makes his way over, he has but a moment before a cane cracks against the back on his knees, causing his body to crumples forward, a hand grabs the grating of his helmet holding his body in place as the same cane strikes him, mostly his thighs and upper body, no doubt bruising the pale skin beneath even with the armour, eventually he is dragged away, rackets coming down as padding is removed piece by piece, he barely registers the hands and mouths on his skin, lips and teeth exploring him hungrily.
Degrading words echo in his ears, bare bodies rubbing against him, forced intrusions as he chokes on the cock forced past his lips, probably Riko's, by the time they're satisfied Nathaniel is covered in blood and other peoples bodily fluids, the last thing he feels is Riko's lips against his, all teeth and insatiable hunger.