FiC: Through The Years II: Lowdown and Almost Out
- Title: Lowdown and Almost Out
Series: Through the Years
Rating NC-17, for rape, child abuse and other such things.
The children's institute in this story is based on the "Boys House of
Refuge" which existed in New York City at the turn of the century.
Thank you to Karen and Jonas for all their help.
Marie sat spellbound as Victor concluded the tale of his and Logan's
shared past. To her it at least partly explained Victor�s compulsion to
kill that he'd until recently shown. A conversation with Hank had long since
convinced Marie that a person's childhood and early life experience set the
foundation for what kind of behavior they would exhibit as an adult.
Victor had gotten up and was currently leaning over Logan. The facial
contortions Logan expressed assured Victor that Logan was nearly finished
processing the memory and would be conscious in a few minutes. Victor
injected another dose into the IV drip he'd started in Logan's arm. He
turned to face his other visitor and noticed a thoughtful expression on her
"What are you thinking about?"
"Um, actually about how surreal this all is. I mean the first time we met
you; you'd thrown a tree at Logan's truck. And now, you're helping Logan
gain back what he's always wanted. Its kind of overwhelming to tell you the
truth." Marie concluded.
"Yeah, well I owe Logan a lot. My life in fact. I feel kinda bad about
ya know, tryin' to kill him and shit before."
"I'm not saying that trying to kill him, or helping to kill me was right,
but um things were different then." Marie stated. "And um, I'm real
interested in how you met Logan anyway, what's the story behind that?"
"Well, after my mom died, and my fuckhead father disappeared, I was sent
to live in a bunch of different places. When I was ten they transferred me
to The Children's Institute in London.........."
The Children's Institute
A drab and rundown brick building on the corner of Asher Avenue and
Arlington Road was home to London's youngest unfortunates. Among them was a
15-year old boy named Nicholas Logan. He was a tall, lean youth with hard
lines on his young features and piercing hazel eyes that practically glowed
with pent up rage.
Life hadn't treated him well. He'd been in and out of jail so many times, a
judge had finally sent him to the Children's Institute in a last ditch
effort to reform him. So far it had only made him more resentful of the
people around him and he longed to be back on the streets.
Upon his entry into the Institute, Nicolas had dropped his father's name
and his childhood nickname and became known as Nicholas Logan. He also
claimed he was an orphan, lest anyone discover his true monstrosity of a
parent. The boy was paranoid about his father finding him, and convincing
the authorities to release Nicolas back into his care. He wanted nothing to
do with the man. To Nicolas, his father had died that on the November night
7 years ago when he'd inadvertently revealed himself to be the Whitechapel
Things didn't get any better for the boy. Since his arrival, he'd been
the favorite of the guards to beat and torture. He was still bleeding from
the last bout of torture three days ago,that had been particularly rough. A
young guard by the name of Donaldson had thought it'd be particularly funny
to take a piece of lead pipe and see how far up Nicolas' rear it would go.
It was said his screams could be heard for hours afterwards. The nightmares
of the event frequently woke him up, and he hadn't slept for more than four
hours straight since the rape.
He was beginning to understand why his father felt the need to kill.
That thought terrified him more than anything the guards could do to him.
He'd willingly take his own life before he ended up like his father. It was
that belief that had led him to the bathroom, with a jagged piece of glass
held over his wrist, prepared to end it all.
"Hey, what are you doing?" a timid voice asked.
Startled, Nicolas dropped the glass down the drain and whipped around
to see who'd interrupted him. He saw a small boy, with sandy blonde hair
and chestnut eyes. He was tiny, couldn't have been more than nine or ten.
"Whadya want, runt?" The older boy bit out.
" Just wanted to see what you were doing." The small boy said shyly.
"I'm Victor. Who're you?"
Nicolas thought about telling the kid anything. Then again Victor was
so small and helpless, it's not like the kid could hurt him. "Nicolas."
That brought a smile from Victor and a sense of de' ja vu to Nicolas.
Where had he seen the kid before? The blonde hair, the brown eyes,
something about them was very vaguely familiar.
Pain. Terror. Brown. Blue. Ripper. Father. Death. The stream of thought
shot through his brain and a sickening sense of recognition settled in his
stomach. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, chastising himself
for linking the young boy with the dead woman.
Shaking himself into reality Nicolas crossed the bathroom and locked the
door. He felt the boy's eyes tracking his every movement and he didn't like
it. "What the hell are you looking at kid?" He snarled at the boy.
Victor swallowed. "N-nothing. Just, you have it too." He spoke with a
sadness that a ten year old should never know.
"What are you bloomin' talking about?" an agitated Nicolas demanded.
"This," the child whispered as he turned around.
Nicolas noticed the back of Victor's nightshirt had a telltale spot of
blood. Rage coursed through his veins. It started in his chest and spread
outwards in a white heat, finally exploding from his hands. Victor gasped
and pointed at Nicolas' arms. Three bone-shaped claws protruded between the
nucleus of each hand. The rage dissipated and was quickly replaced by
With the change of emotions the bone-claws slid effortlessly back into
Nicolas' forearms. The two boys watched in amazement as the wounds from the
claws healed themselves before their eyes.
"How did you do that?"
Nicolas answered honestly "I don't know."
Not wishing to discuss the subject of the mysterious claws anymore he
changed the subject. "Who did that to you?"
The boy dropped his eyes and shifted nervously. "I can't say, he'll
"I won't let him."
It came out as barely a whisper, "Donaldson."
Nicolas didn't know where the rush of affection for the boy came from,
but he didn't need to take the time to analyze the situation to realize that
the boy was important to him.
"Listen to me Victor, we're gonna get out of here."
Logan awoke with a start. He opened his eyes and blinked. Marie was
sitting right by him, with the keys to the cuffs in her hand. She uncuffed
Logan and he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him. She didn't
say anything; she just let him get what he needed out of having her near
Marie wept for the terrible things that had been done to her beloved
Logan. All that pain and suffering, and it was only the first fifteen years
of his life. Victor silently brought in a cart with food on it and left the
couple. He'd told Marie earlier that there was a small bedroom and bathroom
attached to the laboratory that they were welcome to use.
Marie swayed backward and tugged on Logan's hand. Wordlessly he
followed her, and they collapsed on the bed still in their clothing. Logan
pulled Marie to him and buried his head on her chest. He snaked his arms
around her waist and tried to escape the terrors of his recent discovery.
She stroked his head and wordlessly comforted him. His past was terrible,
there was no getting around that, but Marie was determined that no matter
what happened, she would be there for Logan, she'd be the one to help him
live through this.
"The Sweeter the sin, the bitter the taste, in my mouth."-U2
" I see a girl of the night with a baby in her hand
Under an old streetlight next to a garbage can
Now she put her kid away and she's gonna get ahead
She hates her life and what she's done with it
That's one more kid that'll never go to school
Never get to fall in love, never get to be cool"
-Rockin' in the Free World, Neil Young
"In this life, there are nothing but posibilities."-Empire Records
Lucas: Waren, look what you took. Rap, metal, rap, metal, Whitney Houston?
Waren: Its for my girlfriend.
Lucas: Sure it is. A guy like you needs to diminsh his criminal impulses,
not magnify them!
- Empire Records
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