Haunted Past
Nov. 5th, 2023 07:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stormwingsFor 101 ways to say I love you #65 You didn't deserve that... You deserve so much better."
TW: talk of sexual and physical assault.
Takes place a few hours before this exchange
Martyn wasn't surprised to see Davy walk into his apartment office 15 minutes early. The guitarist was perpetually early and always very concious of Martyn's time, too much so sometimes in the Brit's opinion. Still, he did appreciate the punctuality. The notes left at his desk he joined Davy at the chairs. Martyn had a wide range of them for people to be comfortable and without fail, Davy chose the black leather lounge chair. Today he was on the couch where Martyn usually sat and something looked very off about Davy. He was without his make up and in plain jeans, plain shirt too. Martyn thought he looked more like a young teen than the usual mature rockstar but said nothing as he sat down beside Davy on the couch.
The silence hung uncomfortably before Davy spoke in a small voice. “I remember.”
Martyn knew immediately that this session was going to be rough and potentially long. There was only one thing he could be talking about. Over the past weeks Davy had been working to remember the events around his assault and clear up the timeline since the events felt jumbled. In some cases they could pinpoint the chronological jumble in others there were no memories at all and no one to reference since he had been alone. Their last session Davy had done well remembering the gig that City Charms played before the assault. Had laughed about his bandmates and even remembered the set list which they confirmed with Sam who always kept a list of what they played each night.
“How much?” Martyn encouraged the young man to elaborate.
“All of it.” Davy started to shrink and Martyn didn't need to ask why. There were emotions many sexual assault victims shared; fear, shame, self-blame, disgust, isolation. Even without the memories Davy had shown most of those emotions.
“Do you want to talk about them?” Martyn wouldn't force or pry. This was too delicate of a topic to go at with anything other than slow sympathy.
At first Davy shook his head no and slowly curled up on the couch. Martyn let him be, even when he scooted closer. Martyn knew Davy had no father, not really at this point, and wondered if that protective comfort was something he needed. Even when Davy crawled into his lap Martyn didn't respond other than to stroke his hair out of his face when the young American laid against his chest. Healing took many forms and sometimes silence was more needed than words. Then the floodgates reopened. Davy's eyes had been red, presumably from a bout of crying like the one that was starting. The boy needed to cry as long as he needed. Martyn hadn't noticed his own instincts for nearly ten minutes but he was rocking Davy as he cried.
“Martyn?”
“Hmm?” He stopped moving when he heard his name and gazed at Davy's blood shot eyes. He couldn't imagine what was going through the mind behind them. Horrors for sure in Martyn's estimation.
“How do I stop seeing him?” Davy's voice was so small and cracking.
Martyn assumed some sort of nightmare or reoccurring thoughts which was common with trauma. What Davy followed with left the Brit startled.
“He was in his car across the street yesterday when I came here.” Davy trembled. “I'm.... I think he's going to assault me again.”
Martyn tensed and reached for his phone. Confidentiality covered people until there was threat of injury. This counted in Martyn's assumption.
“No.” Davy nearly ripped his phone out of his hand. “You can't tell Sven.”
Martyn had intended to text the Swede but relented to Davy's request, changing gears. “I'm not going to tell Sven but we need to let Damien know.”
Davy bit his lip and there was no way to tell which thoughts were terrorizing him right now. Martyn offered him the box of tissues. “He's our security and people who attack once often choose other targets too.”
Martyn watched Davy's eyes fixate on the photo across the room of Martyn with Tordis in his lap and the one beside of it with all three of the Sterling brothers and their partners. Eventually, Davy nodded. “Just Damien.”
“Just Damien.” Martyn held his phone where Davy could watch him type the message to Damien that simply asked him to come up to the office. “Do you have a picture of him?”
Davy relunctantly nodded and got out his own phone, scrolling way back in the images until he stopped on a picture of him with another guy. Martyn didn't know why he was surprised to see that the guy was blonde but thinner, like Davy, but not as thin. By the time Martyn got a look at the guy, Damien was walking into the room.
“Close the door.” Martyn instructed and the tall blonde obeyed without question. “We have a security problem.”
Damien's demeanor instantly changed especially when he handed Davy's phone to the Dog. “The blonde. He's stalking Davy and might intend to harm someone here.”
Damien nodded but those golden eyes had a hard focus. “Does he drive?”
Davy nodded and gave a description of the last car he had seen his ex in as well as the one he had the year before. Martyn had questions that had to be answered despite breaching some confidence. “Davy, is this the same guy Sam told me is following you at your shows?”
“Yes.” Davy finally pulled away to sit on the couch again, curling up at the far end.
Martyn had assumed as much and was deep in thought. “Would you like Tom and Robert to come install a security camera at your apartment?”
Davy looked away and then nodded.
“I'll take care of it.” Damien's voice was determined as he handed the phone back to the guitarist. “I can borrow Sam's set of keys.”
Martyn watched Damien go then turned back to his patient. “I think you need some rest before we go on. You're welcome to stay here for awhile. I'm just writing notes.”
Davy nodded and as Martyn got up laid on the couch. The older Brit brought him a blanket and covered the young guitarist to let him rest and sleep. Nightmares were going to come after this and it would help if Davy wasn't alone. Sven might be the best comfort but Martyn had understanding of the situation beyond the Swede. “If you need anything, ask.” Martyn tucked Davy in like a child and turned off the lights at that end of the room. All the Brit could think about was how much Tordis and Davy shared in common. Maybe a presence of security would send the stalker away but Martyn doubted it. Usually nothing deterred a stalker, especially when they have been stalking someone for more than a year.
“Martyn!”
The cry of his name in fear jolted him out of his work. All he had to do was look up to see that he needed to go back to Davy. The young guitarist was picking at the blanket and his hair, eyes tired and bloodshot. Martyn set his glasses aside and went back to the couch. Davy was silent again and all he could do was wait.
“You know, I was almost happy to see him that night.” Davy spoke and Martyn could hear the shame in his voice. “I don't know... I guess I liked him. I'd been away all week because we had been in Las Vegas. We had a chance to play down there at a club and it was my first night back.”
“Bands travel a lot, even new ones.” Martyn encouraged but he knew it would take more than a few words to even address the tones in Davy's voice, let alone heal them.
“I understand why he wanted to do things but I was.. I just wanted to go home and sleep.” Davy looked down at his hands picking at the blanket. “When he pushed me the first time.. I.. I didn't know if he was playing or angry. I guess... that's my fault for liking...”
Martyn was following along and knew some things about how Davy and Sven interacted. “There's nothing wrong with what you like. It's common for people to like the roughhousing that you mentioned liking before.”
Davy nodded but it lacked any enthusiasm. Martyn knew that Davy was having a hard time and talking about an assault that went as far as this one did was not easy years later let alone 14 months after.
Davy shrugged absently. “I guess I should have stopped him right away but I didn't and... I said no. That's when he.. I remember him hitting my head on the wall and covering my mouth when I started yelling and pushing him away.”
The crying started again and Martyn offered a hand. Davy took it and then fell over against it on the couch as if he had suddenly lost all muscle tone. The guitarist slumped there and Martyn waited while feeling Davy holding on so tightly that his nails were gouging into his skin. “You didn't deserve this. You deserve better from someone you trusted.” What else could he say while staring into Davy's eyes and seeing the hurt?
“I.. He undid his belt. I heard it.. and...” Davy coughed so hard it forced him to sit up again. “...I .. I knew he was going to attack me. I knew it and I couldn't get away. I was trying but he weighed too much.” Davy was white and it made his bloodshot, red eyes look even more stark. “I thought he was going to shove me over the counter.”
Martyn felt his insides knotting up. It was his job and he'd heard about so many assaults over the years but it never got easier. The disgust he felt toward the people who injured others this way never decreased but he had learned to look stoic as people spoke. All the Brit could do for the moment was shove the feelings away into the depths of his mind until he had a moment to breath away from the guitarist.
“When he started trying to push me around again I.. I was.. I had to fight. He kicked my leg. I thought he broke it and... I .. I think I blacked out for a moment because I don't remember falling.”
Martyn knew Davy probably did have the memories but they didn't all come back at once. These would likely surface later but for now, maybe it was better some things were still hazy for the young American.
“I was on the floor and .. his knee was in my throat. I couldn't see though.. I .. all the make up..it was burning.” Davy's voice was so small and scared. Martyn worried for him, considered telling him to take a break from talking, but that would only leave the kid to suffer in silence.
“I.. I was still pushing but I was tired and I was having a hard time staying awake.”
Martyn was listening and realized that Davy was likely being choked out in the situation he described. “It's not your fault.” Martyn had to say something. “You were probably suffering from your mouth being covered and the weight on your throat.” He couldn't not say anything in the moment since, inside, Davy was no doubt attacking himself because he wasn't able to fight harder in the moment. That too was a common reaction of a victim, especially one who thought they could get away.
“I bit him the first time he forced my mouth open.”
Martyn felt a smile creep in, not at the situation but at Davy's will and determination. He'd been on the verge of passing out and still bit back. That might be a grace for him while healing.
“Then... he hit me.” Davy touched the space between his temple and cheek bone on the left side. “I.. when I.. I don't remember how he....” Davy started to cry again.
No one had to tell the Brit that Davy came around from the hit to find he was being sexual assaulted. Martyn knew enough about the incident to fill in some of the blanks.
“He was choking me and his.. he.. “ Davy covered his mouth and Martyn wondered if Davy was about to vomit from the situation, the crying, or the memories.
“Take your time.” Martyn offered Davy's hand a gentle squeeze.
Davy shook his head. “I.. I was trying to push him off and scream but..I couldn't.... because ..he...”
Martyn waited and watched Davy turn himself into a tiny ball beside him. The transformation from the tall, proud, sometimes downright arrogant guitarist to this felt so off, so out of place but it spoke to how significant the damage was and how deep the trauma went.
“I.. I don't remember anything until … Christy and Sam.. and she told me to stay still.” Davy was quaking against Martyn's side but the older Brit could only listen. This was the past and it couldn't be changed. All he could do was help Davy heal now. “I was dead. I know for a couple minutes. My head hurt and I .. I thought I couldn't breathe.”
Martyn nodded. “You mentioned having damage to your throat." Martyn reached out to stroke the guitarist's forearm on instinct. "You won't have to do this alone.”
Davy nodded and then went silent aside for some sobbing. Martyn hated cases like these ones where he would like to go back and fix them or just remove the memories from someone. He couldn't. He knew that he couldn't and it tore him up inside. Davy was so young and had so much violence in his life already. Not only this assault, but his father, and the old singer of the band, and other people in everyday life. Martyn felt crushed and uncomfortable in his own skin. After awhile, Davy went limp and Martyn realized he had fallen asleep when the Brit was lost in thought.
“You're such a sweet kid after all this.” Martyn whispered to Davy who was too out of it to hear. He did wonder what to do and decided to leave Davy on the couch, tucked in blankets until he woke, or Sven started looking. For now, Martyn would watch over him while he finished up his work.
TW: talk of sexual and physical assault.
Takes place a few hours before this exchange
Martyn wasn't surprised to see Davy walk into his apartment office 15 minutes early. The guitarist was perpetually early and always very concious of Martyn's time, too much so sometimes in the Brit's opinion. Still, he did appreciate the punctuality. The notes left at his desk he joined Davy at the chairs. Martyn had a wide range of them for people to be comfortable and without fail, Davy chose the black leather lounge chair. Today he was on the couch where Martyn usually sat and something looked very off about Davy. He was without his make up and in plain jeans, plain shirt too. Martyn thought he looked more like a young teen than the usual mature rockstar but said nothing as he sat down beside Davy on the couch.
The silence hung uncomfortably before Davy spoke in a small voice. “I remember.”
Martyn knew immediately that this session was going to be rough and potentially long. There was only one thing he could be talking about. Over the past weeks Davy had been working to remember the events around his assault and clear up the timeline since the events felt jumbled. In some cases they could pinpoint the chronological jumble in others there were no memories at all and no one to reference since he had been alone. Their last session Davy had done well remembering the gig that City Charms played before the assault. Had laughed about his bandmates and even remembered the set list which they confirmed with Sam who always kept a list of what they played each night.
“How much?” Martyn encouraged the young man to elaborate.
“All of it.” Davy started to shrink and Martyn didn't need to ask why. There were emotions many sexual assault victims shared; fear, shame, self-blame, disgust, isolation. Even without the memories Davy had shown most of those emotions.
“Do you want to talk about them?” Martyn wouldn't force or pry. This was too delicate of a topic to go at with anything other than slow sympathy.
At first Davy shook his head no and slowly curled up on the couch. Martyn let him be, even when he scooted closer. Martyn knew Davy had no father, not really at this point, and wondered if that protective comfort was something he needed. Even when Davy crawled into his lap Martyn didn't respond other than to stroke his hair out of his face when the young American laid against his chest. Healing took many forms and sometimes silence was more needed than words. Then the floodgates reopened. Davy's eyes had been red, presumably from a bout of crying like the one that was starting. The boy needed to cry as long as he needed. Martyn hadn't noticed his own instincts for nearly ten minutes but he was rocking Davy as he cried.
“Martyn?”
“Hmm?” He stopped moving when he heard his name and gazed at Davy's blood shot eyes. He couldn't imagine what was going through the mind behind them. Horrors for sure in Martyn's estimation.
“How do I stop seeing him?” Davy's voice was so small and cracking.
Martyn assumed some sort of nightmare or reoccurring thoughts which was common with trauma. What Davy followed with left the Brit startled.
“He was in his car across the street yesterday when I came here.” Davy trembled. “I'm.... I think he's going to assault me again.”
Martyn tensed and reached for his phone. Confidentiality covered people until there was threat of injury. This counted in Martyn's assumption.
“No.” Davy nearly ripped his phone out of his hand. “You can't tell Sven.”
Martyn had intended to text the Swede but relented to Davy's request, changing gears. “I'm not going to tell Sven but we need to let Damien know.”
Davy bit his lip and there was no way to tell which thoughts were terrorizing him right now. Martyn offered him the box of tissues. “He's our security and people who attack once often choose other targets too.”
Martyn watched Davy's eyes fixate on the photo across the room of Martyn with Tordis in his lap and the one beside of it with all three of the Sterling brothers and their partners. Eventually, Davy nodded. “Just Damien.”
“Just Damien.” Martyn held his phone where Davy could watch him type the message to Damien that simply asked him to come up to the office. “Do you have a picture of him?”
Davy relunctantly nodded and got out his own phone, scrolling way back in the images until he stopped on a picture of him with another guy. Martyn didn't know why he was surprised to see that the guy was blonde but thinner, like Davy, but not as thin. By the time Martyn got a look at the guy, Damien was walking into the room.
“Close the door.” Martyn instructed and the tall blonde obeyed without question. “We have a security problem.”
Damien's demeanor instantly changed especially when he handed Davy's phone to the Dog. “The blonde. He's stalking Davy and might intend to harm someone here.”
Damien nodded but those golden eyes had a hard focus. “Does he drive?”
Davy nodded and gave a description of the last car he had seen his ex in as well as the one he had the year before. Martyn had questions that had to be answered despite breaching some confidence. “Davy, is this the same guy Sam told me is following you at your shows?”
“Yes.” Davy finally pulled away to sit on the couch again, curling up at the far end.
Martyn had assumed as much and was deep in thought. “Would you like Tom and Robert to come install a security camera at your apartment?”
Davy looked away and then nodded.
“I'll take care of it.” Damien's voice was determined as he handed the phone back to the guitarist. “I can borrow Sam's set of keys.”
Martyn watched Damien go then turned back to his patient. “I think you need some rest before we go on. You're welcome to stay here for awhile. I'm just writing notes.”
Davy nodded and as Martyn got up laid on the couch. The older Brit brought him a blanket and covered the young guitarist to let him rest and sleep. Nightmares were going to come after this and it would help if Davy wasn't alone. Sven might be the best comfort but Martyn had understanding of the situation beyond the Swede. “If you need anything, ask.” Martyn tucked Davy in like a child and turned off the lights at that end of the room. All the Brit could think about was how much Tordis and Davy shared in common. Maybe a presence of security would send the stalker away but Martyn doubted it. Usually nothing deterred a stalker, especially when they have been stalking someone for more than a year.
“Martyn!”
The cry of his name in fear jolted him out of his work. All he had to do was look up to see that he needed to go back to Davy. The young guitarist was picking at the blanket and his hair, eyes tired and bloodshot. Martyn set his glasses aside and went back to the couch. Davy was silent again and all he could do was wait.
“You know, I was almost happy to see him that night.” Davy spoke and Martyn could hear the shame in his voice. “I don't know... I guess I liked him. I'd been away all week because we had been in Las Vegas. We had a chance to play down there at a club and it was my first night back.”
“Bands travel a lot, even new ones.” Martyn encouraged but he knew it would take more than a few words to even address the tones in Davy's voice, let alone heal them.
“I understand why he wanted to do things but I was.. I just wanted to go home and sleep.” Davy looked down at his hands picking at the blanket. “When he pushed me the first time.. I.. I didn't know if he was playing or angry. I guess... that's my fault for liking...”
Martyn was following along and knew some things about how Davy and Sven interacted. “There's nothing wrong with what you like. It's common for people to like the roughhousing that you mentioned liking before.”
Davy nodded but it lacked any enthusiasm. Martyn knew that Davy was having a hard time and talking about an assault that went as far as this one did was not easy years later let alone 14 months after.
Davy shrugged absently. “I guess I should have stopped him right away but I didn't and... I said no. That's when he.. I remember him hitting my head on the wall and covering my mouth when I started yelling and pushing him away.”
The crying started again and Martyn offered a hand. Davy took it and then fell over against it on the couch as if he had suddenly lost all muscle tone. The guitarist slumped there and Martyn waited while feeling Davy holding on so tightly that his nails were gouging into his skin. “You didn't deserve this. You deserve better from someone you trusted.” What else could he say while staring into Davy's eyes and seeing the hurt?
“I.. He undid his belt. I heard it.. and...” Davy coughed so hard it forced him to sit up again. “...I .. I knew he was going to attack me. I knew it and I couldn't get away. I was trying but he weighed too much.” Davy was white and it made his bloodshot, red eyes look even more stark. “I thought he was going to shove me over the counter.”
Martyn felt his insides knotting up. It was his job and he'd heard about so many assaults over the years but it never got easier. The disgust he felt toward the people who injured others this way never decreased but he had learned to look stoic as people spoke. All the Brit could do for the moment was shove the feelings away into the depths of his mind until he had a moment to breath away from the guitarist.
“When he started trying to push me around again I.. I was.. I had to fight. He kicked my leg. I thought he broke it and... I .. I think I blacked out for a moment because I don't remember falling.”
Martyn knew Davy probably did have the memories but they didn't all come back at once. These would likely surface later but for now, maybe it was better some things were still hazy for the young American.
“I was on the floor and .. his knee was in my throat. I couldn't see though.. I .. all the make up..it was burning.” Davy's voice was so small and scared. Martyn worried for him, considered telling him to take a break from talking, but that would only leave the kid to suffer in silence.
“I.. I was still pushing but I was tired and I was having a hard time staying awake.”
Martyn was listening and realized that Davy was likely being choked out in the situation he described. “It's not your fault.” Martyn had to say something. “You were probably suffering from your mouth being covered and the weight on your throat.” He couldn't not say anything in the moment since, inside, Davy was no doubt attacking himself because he wasn't able to fight harder in the moment. That too was a common reaction of a victim, especially one who thought they could get away.
“I bit him the first time he forced my mouth open.”
Martyn felt a smile creep in, not at the situation but at Davy's will and determination. He'd been on the verge of passing out and still bit back. That might be a grace for him while healing.
“Then... he hit me.” Davy touched the space between his temple and cheek bone on the left side. “I.. when I.. I don't remember how he....” Davy started to cry again.
No one had to tell the Brit that Davy came around from the hit to find he was being sexual assaulted. Martyn knew enough about the incident to fill in some of the blanks.
“He was choking me and his.. he.. “ Davy covered his mouth and Martyn wondered if Davy was about to vomit from the situation, the crying, or the memories.
“Take your time.” Martyn offered Davy's hand a gentle squeeze.
Davy shook his head. “I.. I was trying to push him off and scream but..I couldn't.... because ..he...”
Martyn waited and watched Davy turn himself into a tiny ball beside him. The transformation from the tall, proud, sometimes downright arrogant guitarist to this felt so off, so out of place but it spoke to how significant the damage was and how deep the trauma went.
“I.. I don't remember anything until … Christy and Sam.. and she told me to stay still.” Davy was quaking against Martyn's side but the older Brit could only listen. This was the past and it couldn't be changed. All he could do was help Davy heal now. “I was dead. I know for a couple minutes. My head hurt and I .. I thought I couldn't breathe.”
Martyn nodded. “You mentioned having damage to your throat." Martyn reached out to stroke the guitarist's forearm on instinct. "You won't have to do this alone.”
Davy nodded and then went silent aside for some sobbing. Martyn hated cases like these ones where he would like to go back and fix them or just remove the memories from someone. He couldn't. He knew that he couldn't and it tore him up inside. Davy was so young and had so much violence in his life already. Not only this assault, but his father, and the old singer of the band, and other people in everyday life. Martyn felt crushed and uncomfortable in his own skin. After awhile, Davy went limp and Martyn realized he had fallen asleep when the Brit was lost in thought.
“You're such a sweet kid after all this.” Martyn whispered to Davy who was too out of it to hear. He did wonder what to do and decided to leave Davy on the couch, tucked in blankets until he woke, or Sven started looking. For now, Martyn would watch over him while he finished up his work.
