Cotton Blossom

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Evangeline was finally beginning to feel comfortable again. Even if she did ache between her legs and her heart was broken, she enjoyed the tale that Wes told her. She could nearly imagine the family and the forest that he described, picturing it all above her bed as he gestured, outlining the shapes on the ceiling. Her heart beat slowed and her breathing grew a little more regular. Despite the fact that she had been abused and used, she also curled contentedly into Wes's side. She was sure that she had never trusted another person any more than she did him, especially for a man. He had given her no reason to think illy of him.

Looking ahead, Evangeline could easily imagine this man doing the same for any children he had. Though he had never mentioned wanting to get married and having children, she could imagine it. Two tiny little munchkins tucked under each arm, maybe a few more at his feet, listening intently as their father told them the stories of his people and from his mind. Evangeline imagined that Wes would make a kind father, strict but loving. She snuggled into his arm pit at the thought.

~ ~ ~

Three days later, Timothy arrived home, red faced and clearly drunk. His brothers complained to their wives that all he had done was drink for most of their business trip and complain about what a "whore" Evangeline was. It hurt them to see their brother acting so cruelly, but they knew better than to intervene. Timothy would only lash out on the rest of them and they didn't want their wives hurt, too.
Of course, Tim was the most fearful that Wes had as much as laid a hand on his wife. When he entered the house, he nearly kicked the dog from the door, sending him skidding across the room with a whimper.
He searched the kitchen and living room and was glad to find that Wes was sitting in the kitchen with the other two girls. Immediately he ascended up the stairs, intent on finding his precious little princess.
 
"Evangeline, my little princess, are you awake?" Tim calls, from the hallway, creaking the door open. His confidence in her is restored because Wes is safely away in the kitchen. At least he didn't come home to find them tangled up in her sheets together. Smiling drunkenly, he nearly spits out the side of his mouth as he speaks. "Did you miss me, pumpkin?" He asks, closing, and locking, the door behind him. "Because I missed you -ever- so much." He may call her a whore behind her back, hell, even to her face, but he still finds the thrill of pretending that this is what Evangeline wants. She wants him and he is going to screw her until she realizes just that. "Both of us missed you," he pats the place where his bulge lies. Luckily for her, he is quite limp at the moment, his body too drunk to even realize he wants to be turned on.

Stumbling across the room, the key falls from his hand and skitters across the floor with a clammer. Immediately he crawls onto the bed where she was resting. He notices the sheets have been washed, the scent smelling fresh, the bloodstains washed out as best as they could be. Even her nightgown has been replaced. "Pumpkin?" He asks, almost in a sweet, loving tone, only his desire pushing him to be so ... kind. "You know I love you, don't you?" She tries to push him away but he just chuckles and pins her down. "And you'll love me, just the same, smoochie." Removing her hair from her neck, he attacks her with slobbery kisses but hardly affectionate ones.

On the ride home, he had an idea that instead of just flat raping her, he can have his fun with just a little foreplay. Her being slick, even just a little, is something his manhood will thank him for in the long run. Even chaffing for him had started for him, getting worse each time he went to Evangeline. But, sadly, that doesn't mean that after she is soaked, he won't go right back to being his own dominating self. It is, after all, about him. She is here for his pleasure so why would he cause himself pain?
 
When Eva had first heard the door open, she thought it to be Wes, and she snuggled farther into her sheets. He stayed with her quite a bit these days, only returning to his own room and leaving her with Arathi, knowing that Melinda and Bethany would suspect something if he stayed too. She blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the sudden darkness in the room. Had someone pulled the curtains?
When she heard the door lock behind whoever had entered, Evangeline's body immediately stiffened. Once her eyes adjusted Tim was already on top of her, preventing her from screaming out. Surely he had noticed her clean attire and new bedding, and she was surprised to see not much anger in his eyes. There was a devilish look on his face though, showing his intentions, and his breath reeked of alcohol. Evangeline tried to twist her head away, but he merely assuaged her heck with his hot mouth.

"S-Stop," she sobbed quietly. Why was this happening all over again? Where was Wes, and her sisters? Hadn't they promised to protect her when the man arrived home? Of course, Evangeline knew better than to blame them though... this was all Tim's doing. Knowing that monster he would have snuck through the back door and only appear when he was done with her body.

She squirmed and shrieked softly when he began to pull off her night gown. At first he pinched and pulled at her skin, and Evangeline tried to wrestle him away. When he pinned her down with almost of his weight, nearly crushing the young woman, she gasped, trying to breathe. "You're going to submit, pumpkin, whether you look it or it."
Hot tears began to fall down her face when he moved his rough hand down to her womanhood. His fingers were not as aggressive as before, but she tried to wiggle away from him anyways. Evangeline remained that special nub that Wes had once pleasured her with, and she wiggled when Tim tapped on it with his hand. One finger went into her body, and he whispered in her ear, "you're a dirty little slut, you know that? But your my little slut, and anyways will be." He lifted his hand, noticing how wet she was already getting wet. "You like that, huh? I bet you were eager for this..."
"No!" she cried, only receiving a slap on the side of her cheek for her disobedience. It stung, and caused more tears to fall.
 
Unbuckling his belt, he rips it off of his waist, letting the clasp fall against her. It's cold and heavy, made of copper, but still around his rounded belly. Undoing his button, he reveals himself eagerly to her, washed up in his fantasies about her actually wanting this. Nearly falling off of her with excitement, Tim quickly grabs her wrists and yanks them above her head. "No?!" He shouts, rocking himself back and forth on her body. Sticking his hand below himself, and into her again, he wiggles around before lifting it to her face. Her juices, willing or not, are still on his sweaty fingers. "You call that no? You're a harlot, Evange.. glin. And noooo matter what, you're mine." Spreading his finger over her cheek, Tim is truly a sick bastard, letting her smell herself. Her bodily reaction to being touched in such a way.

Slipping his belt from his waist, he coils it up before her, each wrap around his fist tighter than the last. "All alone in this house for three days, waiting for me to pleasure you. Do me a favor this time and actually call my name out instead of that pointless yelling." scoffing, he rubs his ear before pushing the belt onto the nightstand next to the flowers. A shock tingles up his arms when he hears the clatter of -another- belt fall to the floor. The fire in his eyes return immediately, knowing -exactly- what it was just from the sound. He has thrown his belt down plenty of times when raping Eva. By now he hardly noticed except ... this time, it wasn't his. Double checking, he looks frantically from the bedside table (his belt) to the one on the floor.

"YOU BITCH! LITTLE SLUT, I'LL KILL YOU!!!!" She cowers and he wraps his hands around her neck, pushing hard down on her windpipe. Those perfect blue eyes bulge out as he shakes her and slaps her. "How could you do this to me!? Slut. Whore! Harlot!" Each slap is more aggressive than the last. His eyes turn to his belt, immediately knowing she needs reprimanding. "I'll show you to screw around! AND WITH THAT MAN!" The leather does as it should, whips her into submission, nearly killing her. Tim, feeling nothing, keeps bringing his arm up and slapping it down on whatever place he can. Any skin, bare or not, would feel the stinging lash of his belt.

By now, Wes, Melinda and Bethany are hurrying up the steps. Wes, first in line for protection sake, moves to that brass handle. Jiggling it, the door doesn't open, the lock settling them in there without any hope of rescuing. Not even bothering to scream at Tim to open the door, Wes immediately starts to position his shoulder against it. Like a mountain goat, he rams his arm into the door. Each time a painful growl comes from his mouth, yet he tries again and again to break the door. Another three tries later, it collapses beneath his weight and he stumbles into the room. Taking no time, Wes is lifting Tim off of Evangeline right when the leather belt comes back. Slapping him in the face, Wes only is angered even further, throwing Tim to the floor as if he were a toy.
 
If Evangeline had thought she had experienced before, this was pure hell. Each time the hard end of the leather belt came down on her skin, she screamed out, begging for mercy and forgiveness. Surely Wes had only left the belt there when he had spent the days with her, making her more comfortable. Eva whimpered and cried, trying to cower away from him. Her bare skin was raw and red, and some places were so whipped that she had begun to bleed.
The pain, both emotional and physical, was too much for the kind young woman. Letting out one last soft cry, Eva's world faded into darkness.

Melinda and Bethany were close behind Wes, wanting to protect their sister just as much as he did. Their husbands were out in the backyard untacking the horses and thus had not heard the commotion. As soon as the Cheyenne man had heaved Tim off of Eva's now limp body, they rushed in and tended to her side. Bethany's eyes immediately sprang with tears, and she cupped a hand over her mouth. Tim hadn't treated her like a woman, much less a wife... she looked like a beaten and bruised animal, bleeding and painfully red in some spots.
Pushing her emotions away momentarily, Melinda immediately threw the discarded belt to the side and began to grab Evangeline up in one of her sheets. It was now stained with blood, and she smell the scent of a woman's arousal in the room. Poor Eva, she thought sadly. Melinda was barely aware of the two men fighting off to the side of the room, her intent only to take care of Eva. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing had slowed... surely she was still alive, though?

"Go... go get... go get Michael and John, B-Beth."
Bethany was quick to do so, rushing past the two fighting men. She screamed for her husband and his brother, and immediately they came running from the stable. Michael immediately wrapped his arms around her quivering form.
"C-Come, come quick... it... it's Evangeline," she whimpered, "Tim... he... he..." She sobbed heavily, dragging them up the stairs.
 
((Sorry this is a short one - running out the door :) ))

Wes plummets Tim with an ungodly force. Knowing the pain of being hit with a leather belt, god knows he has had plenty of that in his youth from the white men, Wes loses himself completely. With each hit, he thinks of Eva and what pain she must be in, wanting to reflect that with bloody fists. Not noticing Eva's state, Wes keeps hitting and hitting.
 
After she had wrapped Evangeline's naked form in the silken sheets, Melinda heard the brothers rush in. Bethany was quick to her side and helped Melinda to lay Eva down onto the pillows properly. The men began to scuffle, and John immediately yanked his brother by the arm, while Michael grabbed Wes. They pulled them out of the room despite the rough punches and blood that was flying everywhere.
Obviously, the brothers were angry at Tim for touching his wife-to-be in such a way. They did want to beat him to a pulp too, but knew that there was only so much they could do to protect Eva. It was not like they could send him away, because this mansion was just as his and it was theirs. Michael sat Wes down on a bench in the hallway, though he doubted that he would fight. He was surprised by the violence; after all, it was rare that Wes laid a hand on alone. The brothers didn't even want to see the damage that had been done to Evangeline.

Inside the bedroom, Melinda cleaned the young woman up with a cool cloth, and put another one over her forehead, which was burning up. She avoided the angry red belt marks and allowed Bethany to change her into some clean garments, and then they covered her up with the sheet again. Evangeline seemed to have reverted into her mind, not wanting to deal with the turmoil and pain that her husband had put her through.

Immediately after taking Tim out of the room, John felt bad about not doing anything sooner. Clearly he had done some damage to the young woman.
Once the two men were settled and put into seperate rooms to cool down, John was surprised to find Melinda in the hallway. Her eyes were pained; he was sure she had never looked so sickly before, as though she had been the one hurt.

"J-John," she whispered softly.
He reached out to her, stroking her hair. Melinda continued, "I... I cannot stand for this to happen again. Tim... Tim... he needs to leave. He needs to get out of this house before he kills her. Or someone kills him. I do not want any of this in our home."
John frowned deeply and rested a cheek on top of her head, "Mel... honey... I cannot just... throw him out."
 
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At first Wes didn't even realize the hands coming around his arm. Ripping through the air, one last punch sends Tim slamming into the ground gasping for breath. Heaving his chest in and out, Wes is practically carried by Michael and John but the man still wants to have at her. The past three days had been hurt-free for Eva, at least no new injuries arose. If anything, his tea was helping her recover. Slipping in through her window every night, Wes would tell Evangeline stories, most of them made up right on the spot, just to get her mind away from the violation she had experienced. Nothing works better than a great world one can place themselves in. Immerse themselves completely. No longer life this life day in and day out - just escape it for a while.

And now that Tim has returned, so has his etiquette. Wes could feel his veins pumping red blood throughout his body, the muscles seeming to grow in size for every punch he threw. Colliding the front two knuckles, the largest ones, right in the sweetest of spots on his face. Tim, Wes concludes, will get to know what it feels like. Having blood drip freely from your face, no hope of trying to stop it. The throbbing, searing pain that comes along with every breath you take in. Wes is positive he heard something crack underneath his punches. Wes is certain of it. If his brothers didn't pull him off, Tim would require a burial.

"I'm calm, I'm calm." Wes growls at Michael, taking in a very deep breath to slow down his heart rate. Not believing him, Michael makes sure Tim is taken to his room before allowing Wes to even move on the bench. Now that the big watchdog has been taken care of, at least for the night, Wes' brothers are actually .. civil. It's the parts of them that Wes admires the most. The kindness, even if it has a small sour aftertaste and the memories. Whenever they're alone together, John, Michael, and Wes all share memories of their childhood. It's what keeps them bonded as brothers. They know, or perhaps knew, the best and the worst. Aspirations and fears. And now that Wes has closed his eyes and has shrunk down to his normal size, the blundering giant long gone, he chuckles.

"Remember that time..." he starts out, telling Michael a quick story before the gray eyed man stands away from his step-brother. The two of them smile, sad because of what has occurred yet comforting to know that they can still share a laugh. No matter how small it might be. There still is that bond of brotherly love. It's all Wes could ask for. "We have to get that -thing-" pointing in Tim's direction, "Under control. I know what you'll say, fiancé.. and all but we can at least save the girl ... what?" Wes tries to think of when the wedding is. Personally, he would rather not for his own hearts sake but still, he informs his brother that things'll only worsen from here. The least they can do is protect her for the time being.
 
Melinda stared up at her husband, true concern and perseverance in her eyes. At this rate, the young woman could no longer take what was happening underneath their roof... if Tim stayed, he would only continue to hurt Evangeline, and she certainly would not feel right if she knew it was happening while she was snuggled happily into her bed. It wasn't fair to Evangeline, or any of them, for that matter. They all knew that Tim deserved to be locked behind bars but there was so many loopholes that they knew it was never going to happen.

The raven-haired woman crossed her eyes across her chest and stared at him, determination in her eyes. She was going to remove that man and protect Evangeline if no one else would. "Either he goes, or I go. You make your choice."
John's eyes widened, and his fingertips travelled down to her elbows. "Mel, honey... what..."
She cut him off rather curtly, "if you do not kick him out, I am going to leave... and I will take Evangeline if I am able to. I will not allow this."
Running a hand over his face, John takes in a deep breath. He nods his head, although barely, not sure how to proceed with this. Forcing Tim to leave the house was going to be a near impossible task, especially for a long period of time. How long would it take him to come to his senses, if that was even possible?

Taking his wife by the hand, John brought her to where Wes and Michael were speaking. Their expressions were grave, and the two men looked up, concern in their eyes.
John looked and his wife and then said, "we need to remove Tim, whether he likes it or not."

There was a faint click down the hallway, and soon, Bethany appeared. Her eyes were teemed with tears and she looked pained as well. It was clear that this abuse stretched beyond just Evangeline... it had put the entire family into extreme turmoil. After all, Eva was like family to them and because of her youth and innocence, several years younger than them all, they wanted more than anything to protect her.
"Evangeline is not waking up," she announced softly, coming to stand in between her husband and John. "I tried waking her, giving her something to drink or a bath... but... it's like she's completely asleep. Do you think she will be alright?"
 
"She isn't waking up?" Wes repeats over and over again, growing more frantic and the whispers louder than ever. "Are you sure she is even -alive-? Did you feel a heartbeat?" standing from the bench, he moves to Bethany and wraps his arms around her, not knowing what else to do. Michael, stiffening, understands what he is seeing and is not jealous of Wes. He knows very well that his wife is a good soul and loyal untl her last breath. Michael didn't have to beat her into submission as Tim thinks he ought to when she speaks out of turn on the occasion. "See her chest rise and fall? She is alive, right?" Wes was blurting out, giving her a tight squeeze before moving to Mel.

Tears fill his eyes but Wes only blinks them away. His heart feels as if it is one thousand tons of mud bricks burying themselves deep between his lungs. "I agree with John. Michael may need some convincing," Wes' jaw noticeably tightens, not believing his brother could witness such events and still be 'thinking about it'. His knuckles are swollen, his fingers throbbing, tingling from such aggressive sensations. Not knowing what had gotten into him, Wes silently hopes that he will get another chance to fight back for Evangeline when she cannot fight back for herself. He will stay in her room tonight for he fears what may happen in the morning when Tim wakes up.

Pacing around the hallway, Wes looks to the moldings on the walls, trying to come up with some sort of logical explanation. A pathway that they can gladly take out of these horrible monstrosities. "If she... isn't waking up. Tim should be forbidden from seeing her. He may be an owner of this house but -both- your names are on the deed, Michael, John. You own just as much as he does and therefore you're the masters of the household too. Brothers... how can we protect Evangeline? Ladies... how can we help her?"
 
They all just sort of shook her heads, not passive but not having any ideas either. They could not lock Tim up as he did Evangeline; it did that work that way. However, they all did agree that Tim had to stay away from the young woman if she was going to make it through this ordeal safe and sound, physically and emotionally.
Melinda was the first to speak, though she had no ideas on how to restrain Timothy from going after what he believed was rightfully his. "Evangeline will need some proper care. If she's not awake by morning we'll have to feed her some broth. She is surely alive, just sort of... retreating into her soul, not wanting to face that monster."
The two brothers, John and Michael, disappeared into the study of the house soon after. It was clear that they were going to try to figure out a way to get Tim out of the house, even if it meant digging up long buried feuds. Being the oldest of the four brothers, John had the most claim to the land... even if in their father's will, he had left it to them all. Their mother lived several hours away with her sister and nephew, and thus they did not want him to go there and ruin her life, too.

Melinda remained in the hallway with Wesinaco long after the others had left. Fearing the worst, Bethany had come downstairs to brew up some tea for Evangeline, hoping they could coax her awake with it.
She took Wes's hands and looked up at him, her face very serious, "I want you to stay with her until she wakes up, honey. Days... weeks. I've read about this before when I was studying in Portland. It is as though her mind does not want to respond, in fear that she will be hurt again. She might never come out of it, but I have hope. Just... just stay with her, I trust you to care and protect her." If Tim somehow managed to get in there, she was more than confident that Wes would fight him off.
 
Watching them all go their separate ways, Wes feels an odd sort of confidence in his brothers that he has never felt before. There are now moments where Wes can take what they're saying and really listen. John and Michael were always one to keep their words but the Cheyenne man doubted that very much. Now, he nods. All he can do is nod, his legs turning into rubber from the shock. Still, he stands as a strong willow would stand, his mind conquering all else.

"I should have done that in the first place." Wes states with such a thick air, it doesn't sound like him at all first. Never before had he experienced such mood swings. One moment he is beating Tim to a pulp, the next he feels like crying and now his heart is pumping once more. The blood between his knuckles has pooled there, slowly drying with the more time that has passed. The stained wood beneath their feet creaks when he has gotten his marching orders. Pausing at the door, Wes turns back to Mel. His respect for her has always been the greatest. If he could marry the girl, he would.

"And Mel..." he nearly whispers, signaling her to come closer. When she complies, that starstruck expression still hidden away in her hues. Forever gazing up at him. "Thank you for all you're doing. The lot of you." Leaning down, he takes her cheeks in his warm and bloody hands. Closing his eyes for just a moment, he presses his lips to hers. To him, it's a sign of endearment for she has earned a high honor in his heart and therefore must be shown it with greatest appreciation. Nodding in conclusion, Wes smiles wearily before moving into the room and closing the door. Once inside, he bounds for the bed and tries to cajole Evangeline to open her eyes. When he gets no response, he just wraps himself around her, wanting her to, somewhere in the caverns of her mind where she hides, feel him. Know that he will be as loyal, as Arathi is to him, to her.
 
Evangeline had indeed retreated to the crevices of her mind because that was the safest place right now. If Tim were to come in and kill her she won't be aware, merely closed off in her own little world. She mainly imagined the little scenes and stories that Wes had described to her, loving those the most. She thought of the little animals he had told her about and the small family that seemed to be the feature of most of his tales. Here, Evangeline was safe... No one could harm her, and this she wanted to stay.

It had been relatively easy for the brothers to get Tim out of the house... Mainly because they had taken the weak mans way out and instead scheduled him to do some business a good five hour ride away. He had been disgruntled at first but because he needed the money for his hobbies, as he liked the call them, he did go. Melinda had not been happy about that, wishing that her husband would have finally stood up to that monster and put him in his face. She feared that he was just going to return and start this madness all over again.
For the next four days, Bethany and Melinda were busy taking care of Evangeline. She still had not awoken, but Melinda held faith. When she thought it safe she would emerge. In the mean time, they gave her soup and water, making sure she didn't starve in front of them. And of course a night Wes was close by her side. Melinda sometimes could hear the words he whispered to her, and smiled a them. It was clear he cared deeply to Eva, more than the rest.
 
Wes walks into the front door early on the fifth days morning. The sun is creeping its way up to the rest of the sky. Orange streaks cover the sky, welcoming the day as it comes. Knowing that Tim won't be back for at least a week, his business normally gracing for even more due to heavy drinking. In the town, he would most likely find some whore and screw her only to find some fault and insist that he doesn't have to pay a cent. Leaving in a huff, he would make sure that whore has had a proper beating. It's a pattern that he can find pleasure and not pay a cent for it.

Carrying a large blanket, he moves swiftly to the kitchen and lays it on the table. Unwrapping it, he reveals another fine assortment of flowers and herbs laying around the forest. Washing each and every single one thoroughly, he starts to cut them up, stems and all. Placing them in a large pot, he lets the sugar boil out of the stems while he mashes up the petals. Yellow, blue, lavender, orange... they're all mixed together until there is a fine paste. Melinda enters the room, rubbing the sleep from her hues.

"Sleep well?" He asks, the aroma filling the room as if it were air in a balloon. Swinging around the table, he takes his hand in hers and pulls her to inspect what he is doing. Excited, he starts to tell her of a recipe his grandmother used. "You'll have her drink the water, giving her the sugar she requires and then this..." he tips the bowl in her direction, revealing the revolting looking paste. Brownish from the constant mixing. "And this can be put over her wounds. Um... even..." he pats his chest and groin. "Anything that will be hurting... this can help."
 
Melinda was still gravely worried for Evangeline, mainly because she had yet to awaken. She was constantly in and out of the room during the daytime, making sure that the young woman was still even alive. She doubted that Eva could die from her wounds as they were not deep or around any serious arteries, but surely her mind could not take the trauma. Melinda hated thinking about the sheer pain that Evangeline had to go through, for however long Tim had subjected her. It hurt her to know that they had failed to protect her - after vowing that it would never happen again, Tim had slipped right under their radar...

Merely curious, Melinda took a spoon on put a bit of the liquid into her mouth. Her face immediately went sour and she swallowed it with one large gulp. She was glad that poor Eva was asleep. Still, sometimes the things that were the least pleasant were the best for healing. Wes seemed to know what he was doing and Melinda surely trusted his grandmother's recipe. She loved hearing all about his Cheyenne family and customs, as she herself she never been exposed to that lifestyle.

"Thank you, Wes," she murmured, leaning into his side and pecking his cheek, "for helping her out... us out. I am glad you are around." Melinda still suspected that something had occurred between the two, but did not interrogate, especially not now. Her main focus was getting Evangeline well and up again. After that, she would investigate what was going on.

When the mixtures were finished, Melinda brought up a small tray to Eva's room. She was always expecting to open that door and find Eva sitting up in bed, blinking those pretty blue eyes. But she was always fast asleep, and this time was no different. Melinda stroked her hair delicately, whispering sweet words of reassurance, before giving Evangeline the different natural mixtures and spreading the paste on her achy bits. Later she would bath her and put her to bed.
 
Worrying about her throughout the day, Wes respectfully exits the room when Melinda washes and places the mixture on the swollen belt marks. However much he may cringe to see the sights on her neck and face, Wes keeps himself clam. If he should grimace and show his doubt of Eva waking up, then the two women will lose their strength too. He could not deal with that for it's the hope, no matter how small it might be, that will keep them carefully attending to Evangeline.

He remembers going into town and rightfully buying a bowl from a young man and had come home with many bruises or lash marks. The white male, about three or four years older than Wes himself, was accommodating to his needs and desires. They spent an hour just walking around the small shop, conversing and picking out the perfect bowl for Wes' grandmother. After paying, the white man's father flung the door open just in time to see Wes shake his son's hand. In a fury, the man grabbed Wes and shoved him outside onto the dirt of the world. He had spent money on a bowl that wasn't in his possession.

Foolishly going back to the store, Wes demanded the white folk that he had bought that bowl and it was now his. The son, scoffing now that his father was home, snapped at Wes to just leave and never come back. His father's hand came to his shoulder, a sign of approval. When Wes did not budge for he was always a headstrong man, they came at him. The son's fists did not hit as hard as his father but they still left black and blue splotches across his skin.

Later that night, after a day of sitting around and reading the paper, (Well, attempting to for Wes is distracted easily with his worried thoughts) he takes his rightful position next to Evangeline. Stroking her cheek, he knows a few more days of the same routine, washing her, feeding her the soup and stem water, as well as placing that chunky brown paste on her body, she will recover. As long as Tim doesn't come back and give her another piece of his mind.

Glancing towards the door, it's been carefully shut, the pale yellow light flickering across the floor from the edges. "Eva... why won't you wake up. Please wake up..." he mutters, kissing her face gently. Knowing that wouldn't work, his mind hatches an idea. Jumping off of her, he shakes his head, knowing he really shouldn't but then again... it really might wake her up.
 
What Wes probably did not realize was that even in her haze, Evangeline could faintly hear his voice, cooing softly in her ear. It was distant and soft, but somehow he had managed to penetrate her barrier and somehow make his way into her dreams. Still, Evangeline remained in that safe haven, a special place where only she could stay. Her favourite place was a little bridge by a rushing stream, where she would put her feet in and dangle from the edge. Fish would swim by her ankles and she would giggle. Somewhere nearby, a mother deer and fawn scampered around in the bushes, searching for food. It was very similar to the scenes that Wes had set when he was trying to calm her down after Tim's first attacks. She supposed that his storytelling had stuck with her, and though she had never been to places like these, she enjoyed the image he painted for her.

In the outside world, Bethany and Melinda sat downstairs in the main foyer, rocking back and forth in a pair of recliners. They were dressed in their bed clothes, and their husbands were just finishing some letters to be mailed in the study. Their brows knit in the middle, and they met each other's glances.

"Do you really think something is going on?" Bethany asked, in slight disbelief. It was hard to belief that a young, pure woman like Eva could allow a Cheyenne so close to her. Though the women did not know the extent of Wes and Evangeline's relationship, they could make certain guesses. A few times Melinda had walked into her room in the morning, finding Wes's body wrapped around her. There was no way that he did that and had not before. Something had happened in that forest, perhaps even if this house, and if Evangeline did wake up Melinda was persistant on finding out what that was.
Melinda smiled, "I think it is a good thing."
Bethany raised a brow.
"He is a very kind, good man," she continued, "Just what Eva needs. It is a shame that he is Native, but... I think we all get past that, if we really need too..." She gulped a bit but was still smiling, "I know that Wes cares for her deeply, I can see it when he says her name or looks at her. I am glad to have someone like that on our side. There is only so much that Michael and John can do."
 
"No, you'll wake up when you're ready. When you're satisfied. I fear the longer you're in there, the more I'll lose you though. My sweet flower that has been uprooted and ripped apart." He comes back to the side of the bed, sitting there calmly. The nightgown that the two girls had put on Eva was ill fitting for it didn't do her curves justice. Craving to see her in her true form, Wes' hands push down on her belly, revealing her flat stomach, over her sides, revealing her curves. Coming up to the cusp of her free breasts, Wes stops. His fingers tingle, being so close to what he desires yet his mind pulling him back.

Should I be touching her like this while she sleeps? The poor woman has been battered and bruised. The last thing I know she want's is to wake up and have fingers, unknown fingers for the first few moments, touching her. Oh how I desire to. Just a touch... if she starts to stir, I'll stop and just rest by her side. She'll think it's nothing... she'll think that she woke up of her own accord. Her body responding to my presence... He looks down to the inner curve of her leg, gulping, while she was sleeping. Women can do that... can't they? Become aroused by a single touch of skin to skin. My hand to her face... Just do it Wes, just do it.

Breathing in, Wes carefully brings his hands over her protruding breasts. Squeezing gently, he thinks back to that night... before all these horrors occurred, to when they were happy and he made her squeal. The thought is like a warm flame to his mind, comforting and distant. Much like Melinda kneading her dough, he begins to do the same fluid motions. Pushing in, not too hard, and up to circle back around again. Another shuttering breath leaves him, his body drawing itself closer to her out of its own accord.

"It's me, Evangeline. It's me. Do not fear, I am comforting. Calm. Gentle. And never, ever, will I hit you."
 
A pair of hands seemed to have reached into Evangeline's little world, caressing her skin, doting on her form. She could not see them, or whom they belonged to, but they were soft and gentle along her porcelain skin. Caressing her body so delicately, as though she were made of the most delicate of china. The stream was still in front of her, the fish swimming by, her feet cold from dipping into the rushing water. Was it possible to be in two places at once, to feel the wonders of the outside world and yet still hide within one's own mind? That was the only way that Evangeline could describe what she was feeling. There was no way that those touches were part of her haven, because they belonged to no person within it.

Wes? The name struck a chord deep in the pit of her belly.
Before this madness had occurred, he had shown her the very depths of pleasure, the way to a woman's heart. She had been so hopeful too, that he would come back and do it to her, over and over again. Now, Evangeline was not quite sure what she wanted. Would he even want her, now that she was abused, raped and beaten? Her form ached badly, she could only imagine what it looked like.

Keeping her eyes closed and her consciousness submerged, deep within her mind like underneath the surface of the ocean, Evangeline's mouth opened. The softest of voices came from her throat, asking merely a faint, "Wes?" She could still see her haven, but it was growing darker, like night was falling... only the details too were getting fuzzy, and the more he seemed to touch her, the more the entire image lost focus.
 
Her voice rings in his ears, his hands still clutching her small mounds. A tremble of fear travels right up his spine, his hands immediately letting go of her form. Struggling for words and unbelieving what he had heard, he pushes his face near her mouth. Almost pressing his ear to her now open mouth. "Speak again, angel..." he pleads with her, his hand coming to cup her jaw. "Please say anything, do anything. Evangeline? Evangeline?!" almost frantic, he doesn't hear her answer him this second time. Am I going mad? He questions, his chest heaving again.

Feeling as if his lungs may swell and burst, Wes asks her again to speak. Still, there is nothing coming from her. She is sinking back into that world of hers that resides in her head. He is losing her. Running both his hands over her jaw, he almost whimpers. Her voice is so sweet, causing a tingle throughout him that he thought was never possible. It's only a damn voice, yet, it drives him crazy. She has quickly become his everything - sleeping next to her every night did not help him escape. Day or night, his mind flickered away to thoughts of that blissful night. Being a man, he does have his own needs and when unsatisfied, they only expand.

Looking down at her chest, he ponders whether she responds to -thrill-. Yes, yes, that's it. He has to please her animalistic desires. The raw and cruel lust that rests within her. He had seen it, felt it, that one night. She has it and won't be able to stop now that she has been enlightened. Those forest of eyes search her form, all the way down to that middle crevasse. "It's me, Evangeline. It's your Wes." He whispers to her, hoping to his gods that she understands. Starting to rub his hand against her breast again. It seems like a childish thought but the more he ponders through it, the more it makes sense.

If Tim's abuse put her in there... Wes' care can bring her out.
 
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