Surrender
By ALBA

FANDOM: None. Original Fic.

RATING: STRONG PG.

SUMMARY/DISCLAIMER: Okay, I usually don't do hugeass warnings with my stories, but I will with this one because I know child abuse squicks a LOT of people. So... this is a story where the main character is about eight years old and is both physically and sexually abused. So if it squicks you, PLEASE DO NOT READ IT. As for *why* I'm posting this here in the first place... I can see this story becoming the prologue to a longer series about recovery from abuse, but that's not set in stone as of yet. I need to finish other stories before I concentrate on this because writing angst takes a lot of energy (as I'm sure some of you can tell me!) Many thanks to Isolde for reading this over first; as well as Becca, Aylex, and Joie, who were there to kick my ass when I didn't want to write this even though it was eating my brain. The poem is from a children's book called "God Bless the Gargoyles" by Dave Pilkey (thanks to Ang for finding it) and the lyrics at the bottom are from "Sunset Boulevard" Please, please, please... remember my warning.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Originally written for the NSyncSlash fandom, corrected and re-done to become an original piece of fiction.

*****

Surrender

The sound of flesh hitting flesh rang through the house, causing the women in the other room to cringe. In the living room, a small boy cowered against the far wall, holding his reddened cheek, while a man stood over him, hand raised in anger.

"You brought this on yourself," the man said harshly. "You have noone else to blame."

Josh looked at the man who spat those cruel words at him, blue eyes sad. "I understand."

"Now take your disgusting presence out of my sight. I won't have a sinner in my house."

"Yes, sir." Quietly, Josh left the room, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to fall in rivers down his thin cheeks. He deserved this, he had been taught that. He was a sinner, an abomination to God, and everything that happened to him was his own fault. Sniffling, Josh entered the cupboard he'd been given to sleep in. A pile of blankets lay against the far wall of the tiny cupboard, and a tattered bear peeked out from under a threadbare pillow. "Nobody but me," Josh whispered to himself, curling into a tiny ball on the rags that passed for his blanket. "I have nobody but me."

****

"BOY!" the shout echoed in the tiny cupboard and Josh sat straight up, hitting his head on the ceiling of his prison.

"Yes, sir?" he stammered, slowly crawling out and standing before the irate man.

"What are you still doing asleep?" the man boomed, conveniently forgetting that he himself had ordered the boy to stay in the cupboard until he was called for.

"Nothing, sir."

"Damn right you were doing nothing! That's not why we keep you, boy! You are still here to WORK, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." Josh made sure to look at his feet, knowing better than to meet the man's eyes. He still had the scars from the last time he'd done that, for he'd been beaten so badly that he'd required a hospital stay. A stay that had earned him another beating for daring to cost the family money. After all, he didn't deserve to have any money spent on his well-being.

"Now, GET TO WORK!"

Terrified, the boy obeyed. Running into the kitchen, he avoided the eyes of the family as he went about his daily chores. He didn't want to see the pitying look the mother gave him, or the smirks most of the other children gave him because they were glad it wasn't them. Only one gave him a sympathetic look-- the youngest, Emily. Looking quickly into her eyes, Josh felt a wave of understanding coming from her and he looked away. He didn't want sympathy. He didn't deserve it.

Working quickly and silently, Josh made the family breakfast, did the dishes, took out the garbage, and let the dog out. Finally, he again stood in front of the man, waiting for his daily assignment. After he had done the chores and all of the family had left, the man usually had something else for him to do. Something that often included being sold to men who violated his tiny body until he was bloody and sobbing in pain on the floor.

"You have a customer today, boy," the man said, dark eyes gleaming with the thought of the money the boy was bringing in. Men paid him a good price to use and abuse the child in the worst ways possible. "Go upstairs to the room--you know which one--and wait there."

"Yes, sir." The boy knew which room he meant and had to fight back tears of anguish at the thought of what was going to happen to him today.

****

"Thanks, man," the client said to the man behind all of Josh's nightmares. "Always a pleasure."

"Come back anytime," the man said, not even sparing the small mass of humanity sobbing on the bed a second glance. "He's always available." The balding client laughed and clapped the man on the shoulder.

"Don't I know it." Giving Josh a leer, the client left, leaving the man and Josh alone in the room of horrors.

"You did good, boy," the man said, voice surprisingly gentle. Josh wasn't used to hearing anything except anger from the man. "You just keep the clients coming and you and I will get along just fine."

Josh sniffled and tried to raise his head through his pain. "Yes, sir."

"Now, go clean yourself up. You have an appointment this afternoon with the Social Services bitch. I don't know why I still bother taking you to these things. We're a perfectly good foster home."

"Yes, sir." Slowly, painfully, Josh got off the bed and hobbled towards the bathroom to clean up the worst of the damage. Stripping off what was left of the clothes he was allowed to wear, Josh surveyed himself in the mirror. Good, no cuts or bruises that he couldn't hide under a t-shirt and a pair of jeans while he was at his appointment. He liked his Social Services rep and he wished he could tell her what was going on, but he knew the man would kill him if he ever told. So, out of fear, Josh suffered in silence. Sniffling once, Josh stepped into the shower and tried to let the water take the worst of the pain away.

When Josh got out of the shower, he found jeans and a new t-shirt waiting for him. Now Josh was really confused. This was the second time today the man had been kind. Carefully, Josh pulled the clothes on and brushed his hair with a tattered brush he had found in the garbage one day. Once he was satisfied he didn't look as battered as he felt, Josh opened the bathroom door and looked at the shoes of the man. "I'm ready, sir."

"About time, brat." Grabbing Josh's arm in a familiar, brutally tight grip, the man dragged Josh to the car and threw the child into the passenger seat. "Sit there and BE SILENT."

"Yes, sir." Josh buckled up his seat belt and let his eyes unfocus as he stared out the front window. Already, his mind was planning his answers to the Social Services woman's questions. Yes, he was fine. Yes, he was being well-treated. Yes, he got along with the other children. No, he was not unhappy. Standard answers that would keep the man happy and his cruel hands off Josh's fragile body, at least for a short time. Josh suddenly realized that the car was slowing down and focused on the scenery. He'd obviously been daydreaming longer than he'd thought because the man was glaring at him in a way that was all-too-familiar.

"You know the rules, boy," the man growled, pinching Josh's left arm between two large fingers. "You breathe one word and you will pay for it for a year. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," Josh whispered, wondering just what horrible thing he'd done to deserve this. Oh, right. He was the son of a disgraced lawyer who'd killed himself after losing the biggest case in American history, and a woman who'd taken up prostitution after her husband's death in order to support herself and her young son. But someone had decided that he would be better off in a foster home, so he'd been taken away from his mother at three years old. He'd been taken away from the hell of life on the streets into a different hell. One that he was terrified he'd never be able to escape.

"Now, get lost, boy. I will be back at this door in exactly one hour. If you're late, you will be punished."

"Yes, sir." Meekly, Josh got out of the car and entered the small brick building.

"Hello, Josh!" the secretary greeted him, smiling brightly.

"Hello, ma'am," Josh replied, not meeting her eyes.

"Come on, now! How many times have I told you to call me Phyllis."

"I'm sorry, Phyllis," was the automatic response.

Phyllis smiled at the politeness of the boy. Not many children were so well-behaved nowadays. "Go right in, Josh. Laura is waiting for you."

"Thank you, ma... Phyllis." She just gave him a small wave and Josh quietly knocked on the door to Laura's office.

"Come in!" she called, giving a wide smile when the small face peeked around her door. "Josh, hello! Come, have a seat."

"Hello, ma'am," Josh said softly, sitting a bit gingerly.

Laura frowned. "Are you feeling OK, Josh?"

"I'm fine, ma'am."

"Please call me Laura."

"I... I can't," whispered Josh, shaking his head. "I have to be respectful and calling an adult by their first name isn't respectful."

"It's just the two of us here, Josh," Laura coaxed. "You call Phyllis by her first name - I heard you in the hallway. Why is okay for you to call her by her first name?"

Again, Josh shook his head, eyes wide with something akin to terror. There was a long beat before he answered. "I can't. Please don't ask me again."

"Alright, Josh." Inwardly, however, alarm bells were going off. Something wasn't right about this while situation. "Anyways, how is your foster home working out?"

Josh sighed in relief that they were now back in more familar territory. "I'm fine. I like it there. Everyone treats me as a member of the family."

"Are you sure?" Laura prodded, not liking the mechanical, rehearsed tone to the small voice. And she didn't like the haunted, pleading look that suddenly appeared in the clear blue eyes. Laura narrowed her eyes and Josh squirmed. "Josh, tell me the truth."

"I am, ma'am."

"Are you telling me all of the truth? Because it's also disrespectful to lie to an adult." Laura felt bad pushing him like this, but there was just *something* in Josh's posture and eyes that she didn't like.

"Yes," Josh answered in a tiny voice. "I swear it."

Sighing, Laura gave up and decided to pursue another line of questioning. "I like your shirt. Where did you get it?"

"My... my foster dad bought it for me."

"Can I see it, Josh?" The boy just shook his head and more alarm bells went off in Laura's head. "Josh, you know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And you'd tell me if someone was hurting you, right?"

Something flashed in Josh's eyes before he answered. "Yes, ma'am."

"And..."

"Is my hour up?" Josh interrupted her. "My foster dad is waiting for me and doesn't like me to be late."

"Fine, but I want you to think about what I've said, OK?"

"Yes, ma'am." Josh slipped out of his chair and made a dash for the front door, ignoring the look Phyllis gave him as he ran by. Reaching the outside, he found the man waiting. Biting his lip to fight back his tears of anguish, Josh silently got into the car and tried not to think about the punishment that he would get when they arrive home.

*****

"You were late."

"I'm sorry." One blow fell in a particularly sore spot on his ribs and Josh winced, biting his lip to keep from crying out in pain.

"I told you not to be late."

"I'm sorry." Josh felt the blood trickling down his raw back and he fought back tears. Tears only made the man hit him harder.

"I feed you, clothe you, provide for you, and you STILL CAN'T FOLLOW A SIMPLE INSTRUCTION!"

"I'm sorry..." Choked words fell on deaf ears as the man left Josh, alone and bloody in his cupboard after nearly beating him within an inch of his young life. Slowly, the child crawled over to his blankets to lie down, clutching his ragged bear to him. "I deserve this," he whispered to himself. "I'm nothing. Nobody else wants me." Sniffling, Josh mentally repeated the words that had been beaten into him time and time again. Nobody wanted him. He was nothing. He was the son of a sinner, so he was a sinner himself.

He didn't deserve to live.

The sound of a glass crashing against the wall in the next room made Josh cringe, knowing that the family was now facing the wrath of their father. Yet at the same time, Josh knew that the man would never lay a hand on them. He reserved all of his anger and violent actions for Josh. He had just about cried himself to sleep when a shuffling sound outside his cupboard door made him sit upright and shove himself into the farthest corner, not wanting to face the man again. But it wasn't the man that opened the door, it was the youngest girl in the family, Emily.

"I brought water," Emily whispered, putting a small bowl down beside the makeshift bed. Josh looked at her, blue eyes suspicious.

"Why?"

Emily looked at the bowl, unable to meet Josh's eyes. "Mama says she shouldn't have agreed to take you in."

"I know that already, Emily."

"No, that's not what she means. She says she shouldn't have adopted you because he hurts you. How do you DO it, Josh?" Emily asked urgently, suddenly leaning towards the other child. "How do you stay so strong? Why haven't you tried to run away?"

"Because if he didn't hurt me, it would be you or your sisters or your Mama," Josh told her softly, looking at her with eyes too old for his face. "And I have nowhere else to go. If I ran away, they'd just catch me and send me back."

Emily nodded once, wiping away a stray tear that trickled down her face. "I'll bring you some supper later." Footsteps sounded in the hall and Emily jumped back from the tiny door, nearly slamming it shut as she waited for her father to enter the room.

"What are you doing in here?" the man demanded, glaring at her angrily.

"No-nothing."

"Get lost!" The man's voice boomed and Emily fled the room, nearly in tears again at the thought of what Josh was about to face. "BOY!"

"Yes, sir," Josh answered from his corner, trying to make himself as small as possible.

"GET OUT HERE!" Josh scrambled from the darkness, squinting at the bright light of the room. "That Social Services bitch called. She's on her way to 'visit you in your foster home'. The fucking cunt! Get yourself cleaned up, NOW!" The man's face was livid and Josh ran to obey, not wanting to anger him any further.

"Laura's coming," he whispered, going into the bathroom to wash some of the blood away. Laura would come in and she'd see what was going on. Laura would take him away and... Josh paused, looking into the mirror at eyes that had seen so much pain already. He had eyes more suited to an eighty-year old man than an eight-year old child. They spoke volumes, yet revealed nothing. Noises in the kitchen caught his attention and Josh quietly crept downstairs to see what was going on. The family was gathered in the kitchen, looking at a piece of paper on the table. The man looked over at one of the other sisters, Mary, and smiled.

"What a beautiful picture, Mary! My daughter, the artist!"

"Daddy!" Mary giggled as her father picked her up and kissed her on the nose.

"It's a lovely picture, honey," the mother spoke up, giving her daughter a hug. "Where did you learn to make those colors?"

"Our teacher taught us today!" Mary said, wiggling out of her father's arms. She picked up the picture and handed it to her dad, who proceeded to tack it to the fridge with a magnet. All of the girls had pictures on the fridge now. Mary's sat at a jaunty angle, reminding Josh that he was an outsider here. He had no pictures on the fridge, no glowing report cards gushed over. He had nobody to hug him and tell him what a pretty picture he'd made or how well he'd done on the last test. The doorbell rang suddenly and Josh jumped back from his hiding place behind the kitchen door as the man went to answer the door.

"Josh!" the man yelled and Josh took a deep breath. He could handle this.

"Hello, ma'am," he said politely to Laura as he slowly walked into the living room, favoring one leg a bit.

"Hello, Josh!" Laura said warmly, wondering just why he was walking like that. She caught a glimpse of the foster father's face as Josh passed him and shrank back. He looked at the child with such hatred that she could feel it clear across the room. Fighting back nausea, she forced herself to smile. "How are you?"

"Fine, thank you."

"May I speak to Josh alone, please?" Laura said to the man, who shook his head.

"Whatever you say to him, you can say it in front of me."

Laura sighed. "I really need to talk to Josh alone." Finally, the man withdrew, leaving her alone with the boy. "Now, Josh, I need you to be honest with me. I saw you walk in here, favoring one leg. And I see the bruise on your arm you try to hide with a long-sleeved shirt." Josh quickly pulled down one arm of his t-shirt and Laura reached over to stop him. "Sweetie, that bruise goes right across your shoulder. I saw it this afternoon in my office when you sat down and your t-shirt moved a bit. Now, tell me the truth about what's going on here, Joshua."

"Nonononono," Josh insisted, shaking his head, blue eyes panicked. "Nonononononono."

"Tell me."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"He'll hurt Emily," Josh whispered, picking at a fingernail. "She isn't strong enough to take it, and I know he'll hurt her if I say anything. She... she's the only one that cares about me. The only one, Laura." The use of her first name left Laura a bit stunned. It was the first time Josh had called her anything but ma'am. Josh's eyes burned into hers as he spoke. "I can't let him hurt her. I can't!"

"Oh, Josh," Laura half-cried, heart breaking for what he had to go through and why. "He won't hurt her, I promise."

"He will. I know he will. She's only six!"

Impulsively, Laura reached out and pulled Josh's tiny body to her own, hugging him with all her might. At first, he was stiff , as if unused to the human contact, and Laura's heart broke once again. But soon he snuggled into her warmth, trying his best to crawl into her skin with her. "You wanna hear something?" she asked softly, stroking the baby-fine brown hair.

"What?"

"My Mama taught me a poem a long time ago. Do you want to hear it?"

"Okay."

"God bless the rain, and the storm clouds that bring it.
God bless the music, and voices that sing it.
God bless the ones who sing everything wrong.
God bless all creatures who do not belong.

"God bless the hearts and the souls who are grieving
for those who have left, and for those who are leaving.
God bless each perishing body and mind,
God bless all creatures remaining behind.

"God bless the dreamers whose dreams have awoken,
God bless the lovers whose hearts have been broken.
God bless each soul that is tortured and taunted.
God bless all creatures alone and unwanted."

Josh's voice was tiny when he finally spoke. "Does God really love people like that?"

"Yes, Josh."

"Then how come he doesn't love me? I guess they're right. I don't deserve to be loved if even God doesn't love me."

"Oh, Josh..." Laura choked back a tear, trying to stay strong. The sooner she got Josh out of that house, the better. "Sweetie, why don't you go sit in the kitchen and I'll talk to your foster dad?"

"Yes, ma'am." Silently, Josh crawled out of Laura's lap and headed for the kitchen, where Emily was sitting at the kitchen table.

"What did she say?"

"She told me a poem," Josh said to her, looking out the window at the other members of the family playing with the dog in the backyard. Emily's mother and older sisters were laughing and tossing the puppy a stick, play wrestling with him when he brought the branch back. Josh felt the familiar ache in his heart as he watched them have fun. Fun was something he'd never known. Fun was something children like him didn't deserve.

"Josh?" Emily whispered, watching the emotions play across her foster brother's face. "Why is Laura here?"

"She knows, Emily."

"Is she... is she going to take you away?"

"I don't, Em. I don't want to leave you."

"Don't worry about me, Josh," Emily said bravely. "He's scared of my older brother."

"Why?" Josh asked, trying to remember if he'd ever met the oldest child in her family. He'd heard the name mentioned, but he didn't recall ever meeting the fabled Chris.

"Because the last time Darren was home, he smashed a beer bottle over Daddy's head and threatened to kill Daddy if he ever found a bruise on any of us."

Josh smiled at that. "I think I'd like Darren."

"I'm sorry he hasn't been home to help you, Josh."

"It's not your fault."

"It's not yours, neither." Emily looked up at Josh, wisdom shining through her young eyes. "That's what Darren says people who are... how people like you think. Darren says it's not their fault." Josh didn't answer, just turned back to watch the happy family outside. Emily got up from the table and put her arms around him, resting her cheek against his thin shoulder. "Somebody loves you, Josh," she whispered so softly that he almost missed it. Josh simply laid his head on hers and tried not to cry.

*****

"What is this about?" the man demanded, glaring at Laura across the coffee table.

"Josh's well-being," Laura responded, lifting her chin and refusing to be intimidated. They'd been locked in a silent battle of wills for more than five minutes now.

"Josh is fine."

"No, he's not. I saw those bruises."

"What bruises?"

"You're abusing that child," Laura hissed. "I can prove it."

"You have no proof." The man looked very self-satisfied and Laura decided to gamble. If all went well, Josh would be out of that house and in her car within the next five minutes.

"I asked Josh to show me his bruises and I have photographic evidence."

"Impossible," the man stammered. "Josh isn't... I mean... fuck, bitch!"

Laura raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"What do you want to do? To take him away? Go right ahead, the little bastard doesn't belong here!" Inwardly, though, the man was seething at the impending loss of his greatest source of income. He charged up to $200 an hour for other men to abuse Josh and now he was in danger of losing his cash cow. The Social Services bitch would pay.

"Josh is coming with me when I leave here," Laura said, glancing at the kitchen door as she heard voices and footsteps coming in from outside. "Do you understand me? Josh is leaving this house and he won't be coming back. I will charge you with child abuse if you even think of coming near him again." A soft sound from the doorway got her attention and Laura knew Josh was there with Emily, both staring at her in shock.

"BITCH!" the man shouted, storming over to Josh and punching the child viciously in the chest. Josh went down like a shot and Emily screamed. "Bitch! Bitch! Bitch!" Each shout accompanied a kick to Josh's already tender ribs and Laura heard one of them break. Punching a button on her cell phone, she summoned an ambulance as the mother dragged her daughters out of the path of danger.

"I have called the police," Laura said lowly, watching as the man backed away from the tiny, still body on the floor in front of him.

"I don't care."

"I will make your ass pay for what you've done to this child."

"You'll never make it stick," the man smirked. <"P>"Oh, I think I will." Sirens screeched down the block and stopped in front of the house and for the first time, the man appeared nervous. The front door opened and a soft murmer of voices was heard before two paramedics ran into the room, nearly tripping over themselves when they caught sight of their battered charge.

"Oh, my God," one of them exclaimed, putting a hand to her mouth as her partner nearly retched.

"What happened here?" a new voice yelled as a policeman entered the room, turning a bit green when he saw what the paramedics were loading onto a stretcher. "Holy Mary, mother of God," he swore. In all this time, neither the man or Laura had moved and the officer finally turned his attention to them. "What happened?"

"That child has been horribly abused," Laura spoke up. "I saw that man punch and then kick Josh while he was down. I *heard* one of his ribs break."

"Are you his mother?"

"No, his Social Worker. Josh is a foster child."

"Then we'll need you to go with him. While we're investigating this, he'll be in the temporary custody of Social Services anyway." Laura nodded at the officer's words and ran out to the ambulance. She hopped into the back with Josh, nearly breaking down when she saw how fragile and broken he looked lying against the clean white sheets. Just before the doors closed, she caught sight of the police loading the bastard who had nearly killed Josh into the back of a cruiser. The mother and daughters stood in the doorway, tears streaming down their faces as they watched both the ambulance and police cruiser pull away. Laura thought she could see Emily hugging a tattered bear, but she wasn't sure because the ambulance was screaming it's way to the nearest hospital. Laura just prayed that they weren't too late.

*****

Beeping monitors greeted Laura as the silently crept into the sterile room. Josh lay on the high bed, still and silent. "Josh?" she whispered and the child stirred.

"Laura?"

"I'm here, baby. I'm right here."

Blue eyes looked around the room before locking on hers. "Why?"

"Because he would have killed you eventually, Josh. As it was, you nearly died."

Josh just nodded. "Emily?"

"She and the others are fine. The police are helping them start a new life. Their father won't be coming home any time soon."

"What happens now?"

"Well, baby, how would you feel about coming home with me?" Josh looked confused and Laura smiled. "I put the papers in to adopt you just this morning and they told me that I have a pretty good chance of getting accepted."

"Why?"

"Because you deserve to have someone that loves you. Just like those gargoyles I told you about."

"Thank you." The words were simple, yet spoke so much. Laura knew that Josh wasn't just thanking her for adopting him. He was thanking her for saving his life. He was thanking her for rescuing him from that hellhole he'd been put in. And most of all, she knew he was thanking her for loving him.

"I love you, baby," Laura whispered, reaching over to stroke soft hair as Josh drifted off to sleep again. "There will always be somebody who loves you."

In his sleep, as though he heard her, Josh smiled.

No more wars to fight,
White flags fly tonight
You are out of danger now.
Battlefield is still,
Wild poppies on the hill
Peace can only come when you surrender.

Here the tracers fly,
Lighting up the sky
But I'll fight on to the end.
Let them send their armies,
I will never bend
I won't see you now 'till I surrender
I'll see you again when I surrender.

/END