[CLOSED] just a little impaired.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor groaned softly from the floor, gazing up at Jonathan in angered silence. "F-fuckin'...bastard..." He had needed to come get some things from the meager belongings he had. Wrists scabbed from shallow cuts that morning, withdrawal had been too much. He had been afraid of taking a toke of the drug, and had turned tothe blade instead after saying his goodbyes to Deacon.

He hadn't expected Jon to be home. Hadn't expected the ambush in the already messy living quarters.

Jonathan clutched at a broken nose as Connor curled up, squirming and feeling hand cuffs bite into his wrists. He could hear Jon on the phone, talking about his 'crazy ass son' needing to be locked up.

Swallowing, he closed his eyes with a shaky breath, then began to scream and curse, kicking out, trying to get at Jon from his curled, unclothed and aching position on the floor. He wasn't crazy... Was he?

[deacon reid rudman]

Deacon was on the floor with a very tired and agitated Bandit. She wasn't taking teething well, and she was determined to take it out on Deacon. His phone went off, then his pager and he walked over to the table by the door.

He glanced at the address, hoping this wasn't what he thought it was. He grabbed his ID, his papers and didn't even bother with a shirt, his jeans riding low on his hips. "Come on, princess." He said, walking over to the car. He dropped her off with Shaun, then walked to the house. The call he had dreaded. He ran his hands down his pants, clipping his ID to his belt and putting his papers in his pocket. He chewed on one of his snakebites. 'The ambulance better come with fucking Chuck Norris to hold me back or I'm going to beat the fuck out of this man.' He grabbed his blank paper and wrote one name on it- Sykes.

He walked up to the house, knocking on the door as he shifted his weight to one foot. "You called?" He asked, taking a step back as he told himself to stay professional. On other terms, the man would be dead. But now Deacon had a face to the name. "Or did someone call on you?" He ran his fingers over his neck, the tattoo there still itching.

[connor crayze sykes]

"I called," Jon snapped, stepping back from the door to let Deacon in. The coffee table was overturned, lamp broken on the floor. Dark feathers floated gently in the room from the thrash of Connor's charcoal wings as he writhed in the cuffs.

Blue eyes flicked open with his next screeched curse, whimpering as he spotted Deacon in the doorway.

[deacon reid rudman]

"False imprisonment is a crime." He said flatly. He walked over to Connor. He pulled him up a bit, his eyes turning black as he broke the cuff chains. He helped him up, and waited for the nurses to come in and take Connor before he glared at the man.

"You can tell me the truth or you can lie. Either way, you're still an ass. Is there a reason you decided to tie him up or you just did it cause you can?" He started writing on the paper, chewing on one of his snakebites. He felt vulnerable, standing there shirtless with his boyfriend's rapist. But he wasn't scared. The man wasn't stupid enough to touch him, was he?

"Tell Connor just to wait, okay?" He told the nurse, then looked back at his dad.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor tensed as he was pulled up, scrambling for the door, trying to shoulder off the nurses as he was led to the ambulance. He fought every move as usual, didn't want to go.

Jonathan sneered faintly at Deacon's words. "The guy my son ran off with, huh?" He growled, sitting down on the couch, grabbing a towel from an empty box of beer and holding it to his bleeding nose.

"What am I s'posed to tell you? That he waltzed in here and I tied him up? I told him not to fucking come back, 'course I was gonna punish him. His fault for fucking coming at me though." His voice didn't waver, no trace of a lie. No trace of truth or feeling either. "Kid's fucked! Took..my wife..my son.." Briefly his voice wavered. "Damn straight he deserves something. But I'm not the one cutting him up, making him scream, hm? I'm not the one who challenged my damned brother to shoot himself in the fucking head, huh?! You tell me who the crazy one is, doc. Cos it's not me."

He had hurt Connor, he had a problem with drinking. And yet all of it was straight minded, all of it calculated no matter how sickening such a thought was.

[deacon reid rudman]

"Doctor Rudman." He said flatly, scribbling something on the paper. Despite what the man said, he knew he was crazy. Drunk crazy. "Because crazy totally isn't slitting your son's throat or anything." He said sarcastically. He knew if he didn't get out soon, Connor would have a fit. "Well, I'm going to get a cop here to take photographs, and get your statement because i have other matters I need to attend to." He nodded at the nurse who stepped in and stood at the door. "You will be restrained and held in contempt if you do anything besides sit there. I don't even want you to go piss."

He walked past the nurse, helping Connor up into the ambulance. "It's okay, baby. Just sit down, okay? Did he hurt you?"

[connor crayze sykes]

The guy glared at Deacon went.

Connor tensed at the initial touch, already jumpy enough without lack of drugs, on toop of this. He pulled away, curling up silently, wings drawn tight as he stared back at Deacon. "I-...I'm f-fine.." He wasn't though, hell, he didn't even have clothes on anymore, hips and sides, wrists bruised.

He looked away, working his jaw until his teeth were grinding together. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to hide his bleeding wrists. 'Don't arrest him' is something he would have begged of before. But he no longer relied on Jon as a place to stay, didn't need him at all. Except for the one threat lingering in his head. 'You ever tell anybody about the abuse, ever let anyone fucking take you away from me too, I'll kill you ten times over.'

He swallowed, gagging softly as he thought about it.

[deacon reid rudman]

The simple fact that Connor wanted nothing to do with him now made Deacon sick. He just leaned over, putting his arms on his knees. After awhile, he started rubbing the tattoo again, a thought he had never imagined he would think going through his mind- 'just another fucking mistake'. He chewed on his lip until they finally came to a stop. Then he shoved the ambulance doors open, taking the sheet from the nurse. He handed it to Connor, making his way down to autopsy where he grabbed a clipboard. He found the room Connor was in, sitting down in a chair across the room from him.

"You're going to tell me what happened or not? This isn't a game anymore, Connor. If he can prove you're crazy, then you're going to be put into a hospital. Far the fuck away from here. So it's up to you. You can tell me what he did to you, or you can let him ruin your life all over again." He leaned back in his chair, his eyes fading to black to hide the hurt. 'Way to go, Rudman. Fuck up your relationship. Go ahead. Everyone wonders why he stays with you. Go on. Fuck it up.' Death taunted, and Deacon just watched Connor.

[connor crayze sykes]

Connor remained silent, fighting them on the way into the hospital. By the time Deacon got into the room, he had fallen quiet, startled into silence. The words did nothing for him, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks.

"I-I'm not cr-razy..." He insisted brokenly. "I-..you-..." He swallowed, looking away, rubbing at his face. "He's alr-ready ruined my life f-forever. I told you I-I was goin' to get my sh-shit..I didn't know h-he was home Deacon..." Another wavering breath. He didn't want Deacon to know what had been done to him. "I...hit h-him first..." He admitted softly. "S-so he cornered me, cuffed m-me a-and..." He gagged, rubbing at his face. "F-fuck him!" He screamed angrily, trembling. He had an arm hiding the bleeding between his legs, shuddering at the rough handling. Your own father biting you wasn't something easily explained.

He rubbed at a bleeding wrist. "He m-made me..swallow cough syrup or somethin'..I-I_I dunno what it was..." The slur of words proved it was enough to be starting to effect him. "Then..he c-called.."

[deacon reid rudman]

"You hit him. That doesn't make you crazy." He could tell Connor was hiding something, something he would probably never tell Deacon. He wrote down what he said, but like Marc, he couldn't declare him insane. He had no proof either of them were crazy. What they did had a direct link to what their fathers had done to them as children.

"Did he rape you? In any way, shape, or form?" He asked gently. "I don't need details. Just a yes or a no." He looked up as a nurse came in with a pair of scrubs for Connor.

"They have the father's statement." She said, handing him a piece of paper. He nodded, reading it over. It sounded like bull to him.

"I'm saying this because its what I believe, regardless of whether I know you or not. But until you murder him, or eat him, or something freaky, I can't say you're insane. Or crazy." He stood up, waiting for the nurse to come in with his hospital band. "What's wrong with you is and can be directly associated with what your father has done to you. That's it."