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To Love a Rogue	By : NekoMalik Category: DC Verse Comics > The Flash Views: 1525 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Flash, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Waking up in the hospital hadn’t been too much of a surprise for Hartley, he’d ended up there more than once in his short life; waking up at all had been the biggest surprise. He’d been unconscious for almost three days, according to the nurse he’d spoken to, and for a while had no recollection of what had happened. For the first hour or so, he was blissfully unaware of what he had endured, chatting happily with the pretty blonde nurse who had spent the entirety of her lunch break sitting with him. Her name was Jenny, she said, and she’d been transferred to the hospital only a few months previously. She asked him if he could recall what had happened, he told her he couldn’t remember. He asked what had happened and she didn’t seem to want to answer.

“You were brought in by Captain Cold.” She began, eyes shifting to the blue parka she’d requested the orderlies leave in the room. “From what he said, you were found at home like this.” She sighed, rubbing her face, and Hartley could tell there was more but he didn’t push her for answers. There was time yet for that. “You’ve had a few visitors while you’ve been unconscious, but it’s been tricky. No one’s allowed in to see you until we know who did this to you, and those boys don’t seem to like being told what they can and can’t do!” She laughed at that, not noticing the surprised look on the Piper’s face.

“I had visitors? Who?” He asked, shocked that anyone had bothered to come and see him. Who cared enough about his wellbeing to want to visit him in the hospital? Not his parents, certainly; they’d have been pleased if he had never woken up.

“Captain Cold came back, paid your bill in full, so I managed to sneak him in for a few minutes. He seems genuinely worried about you, though I’m sure he’d never admit to it.” At Piper’s questioning look, she explained. “I’ve dated his type before. Cold and heartless on the surface, but they’ll never cheat and once you can break through that shell, they’ll love you forever. There are signals, but they’re hard to see, so you have to look real close.” She nodded sagely giving him a look and Hartley understood immediately what she was getting at, flushing at the implication.

“And he didn’t try to hit on you?” He asked to switch the focus from himself, raising one elegant eyebrow at the woman. She was pretty enough. Hell, with the right clothes, makeup and a good haircut, she’d be downright beautiful. He supposed it was hard to be glamorous when you were working fourteen hour days in uniform, though.

“No...” Jenny sighed, looking slightly disappointed. “I did ask him if he wanted to go for coffee, since he’s my type and all, but he said I reminded him too much of his sister.” She checked her watch, frowning; she’d have to go soon, which was a shame as she was rather enjoying speaking with the cute little redhead.

“Did anyone else come to see me, or was it just Cold?” Hartley queried, though he’d be happy with either answer. He hadn’t expected Len to come and see him; surely that meant he did care? Piper was pleased that the man hadn’t freaked out too much over what had happened, and hoped that things wouldn’t be awkward when he finally returned to the Rogues.

“A big guy, shaved head, brought some flowers with him. He looked so disappointed when he was told he couldn’t see you and that we couldn’t give you the flowers.” The nurse smiled softly at the memory, as though remembering it fondly. “Now his number I did get, sweet thing. I haven’t called him yet though, said his name was Mick.”

“Yeah, Mick’s a real sweetheart when he wants to be. Actually, he’s a sweetheart most of the time.” Piper laughed, less surprised than he thought he’d be that the large Rogue had tried to see him. “And he brought me flowers?”

“Yellow lilies. They looked quite expensive too, from the florists on 3rd street. I have the card still, hang on.” Moving around the bed, she passed a small folded slip of white card to the redhead, who opened it up to read.

‘Hartley, hope you’re feeling better and can come home soon – Mick’

“He’s so thoughtful.” Piper smiled softly to himself for a moment, before looking back up at Jenny. “So what happened to the flowers?” He asked with a slight twinkle, wondering if Heatwave could possibly be that cheeky.

“No, he didn’t give them to me if that’s what you’re implying!” Jenny replied in mock outrage. “I told him to take them home with him for when you’re better.” She sounded a little sheepish, and for a moment Hartley couldn’t work out why. “I’m not sure they’ll survive that long though...oh, two other men came to see you too. One was a brunette, nice smile, I don’t know his name and I’m guessing the other one was Captain Boomerang.”

“Let me guess, he tried to stick his hand up your skirt?” Hartley quipped, guessing Digger had only visited because Sam had dragged him along. Either that or Len had told him about the pretty blonde nurse that manned the front desk; the Aussie was a notorious skirt-chaser, and would do almost anything for a chance with a woman. Including visiting the sick ‘friend’ he didn’t like much in hospital.

“That and the accent.” The nurse laughed, showing her perfect white teeth to the redhead. “Damn, I need to go; I’m due on the front desk in less than five minutes! I’ll see you later Hartley, press the buzzer if you need anything.” And with that she was gone, speeding out of the room and down the hallway until Piper could no longer hear her footsteps.

Settling back against his pillows, the redhead began to inspect his injuries, feeling really rather tired. His wrists and ankles were cut up fairly badly, from what he assumed were ropes of some kind...no, ties. Black plastic ties, he remembered that much. They’d hurt, cutting into him as he’d struggled, tried to get away. He shivered at the memory and tried to move on. Burn marks on his chest...cigar burns? Yes, that was it. And lashes from a belt had left cuts all down his stomach, leading down to...teeth marks, familiar, that mouth...Fury. Fury!

“Aw hell.” Piper cursed, flopping backwards again, the full realisation of what had happened rushing back in one go. Earl had come crashing into his apartment, spitting and swearing at Hartley, calling him all kinds of filthy names, several of which the redhead had never heard of before. It all boiled down to one stinging accusation though; cheat. They’d argued; Piper pleading his innocence and trying to make his boyfriend understand, Fury refusing to listen to any of it before eventually throwing Hartley against the wall hard enough to knock him out.

When he’d finally awoken, he found himself tied to his own bed, his clothes cut and ripped from his body. The smell of burning flesh hit his nose before his other senses kicked in, and then his pain receptors caught up, dragging a prolonged scream from his throat as the larger man burnt him, taking a few breaths from his cigar before repeating the action again. And again. And again. All the while the air was thick with insults, with threats. Fury called him every name under the sun until his cigar burnt out and was tossed to one side.

He’d pulled out an envelope then; photographs. Photographs of Len, of them together, and he could see how it might look if you ignored the uncomfortable facial expressions and Hartley’s complete state of dress, along with the latex gloves he was wearing. He said as much, and Earl had pulled out a knife, cutting him across his shoulder with a short, sharp laugh, saying he didn’t care.

It had only gotten worse from there, he recalled. He’d been whipped, beaten and abused, until it just didn’t hurt any more, until there were no more tears to cry, no more breath to scream with. Then Earl had decided to have his way with the broken redhead. He hadn’t screamed, hadn’t begged him to stop, so his boyfriend had gotten bored after a while, finishing inside the smaller man, climbing off and dressing himself without a word. He’d picked something large and heavy up off the floor, Hartley hadn’t been able to see what it was, and smashed the smaller man around the head with it until he’d passed out.

It hurt, that his boyfriend continually thought so little of him. If he wasn’t accusing Hartley of cheating, he was screaming at him for being useless, or blaming him for a job gone badly. Their arguments always ended in violent sex, where Fury would get himself off as quickly as possible, as though he couldn’t stand touching the petit redhead, and Piper was left to finish himself off in the bathroom, alone. That was just what their sex life was like, though. Everyone was different, and it was perfectly normal.

He hadn’t realised he was crying until a dark haired male doctor entered his room, throwing him a soft, supportive smile and closing the door behind him. The doctor, around six feet tall with olive skin and bright blue eyes, had asked Hartley if he was alright and handed him a monogrammed handkerchief. The redhead had just stared at it for a moment, until a small wet drop appeared on the fabric, then another. Rubbing at his face with the soft cotton, Hartley simply stared down at his hands, embarrassed to have been caught at such a weak moment.

“It’s perfectly alright to feel upset, after what you’ve been through.” The man’s voice was soft and kind, almost impossibly soothing in nature, and he placed a comforting hand on the redhead’s shoulder without even thinking about it. Hartley decided then that he didn’t like this man. He was attractive, sure, without a doubt the youngest Rogue’s type; tall dark and handsome. But he was too self-assured, speaking as though he knew exactly what Hartley had been through, exactly how he felt.

“You’re a shrink.” Piper stated, not looking up at the stranger. There was no question there, he didn’t need to ask; the doctor reminded him far too much of the psychiatrist his mother had sent him to when he was fifteen to be anything other than a psychiatrist.

“How did you guess?” The man asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “My name is Doctor Felpz, and I’ve been assigned to assess you.” The doctor took a seat and Piper let out a light snort, not loud enough for the other man to hear as he knew these people, knew what they were like, and the last thing he needed was some meddling do-gooder deciding he needed to go on medication, or worse.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Hartley forced himself to look up, twisted his mouth into what he hoped was a sincere smile and held out his hand, which the doctor duly took. He needed to act as close to ‘normal’ as possible around this man, around all of the doctors really. Any form of visible eccentricity would guarantee a lengthy spell at the Breedmore mental hospital, and that wasn’t something the redhead wanted.

“Now Hartley, I know you’ve been through a lot, but could you try to talk to me for a little bit?” The man asked kindly, making just the right amount of eye contact with the redhead. He was good, very good. Fortunately, Piper was better. He hadn’t written anything down yet, which was a good sign.

“I’m a little sleepy, but I’ll do my best.” Hartley replied, shifting a little so that the motion tugged on his wounds purposefully, wincing in pain, knowing that the doctor would likely keep the session brief if he thought his patient needed rest. It was a tactic he’d used before, and it usually worked.

“Can you tell me what happened the other day, how you got hurt?” Doctor Felpz leaned forwards, looking over the top of his glasses with what Hartley assumed was meant to be a thoughtful, caring look on his face. He had his pen poised above his clipboard, waiting for the redhead to answer, listening intently.

“I had an argument with my boyfriend. It...got out of hand. I don’t...I don’t think I can go back to him after this.” Hartley replied quietly, letting his head droop, hand moving up to wipe away an imaginary tear as he tried to look both upset and embarrassed.

“Can you tell me what you argued about?” The doctor was scribbling away on his pad, not looking at Piper any more, which gave the redhead chance to check himself over to make sure his expression, and posture, were perfect.

“He thought I’d cheated on him.” He replied meekly, his voice quiet and miserable with a slight tinge of fear to it. The dark haired doctor’s eyes snapped up at that, resting on him. There was a silent judgement there, though he kept it well hidden.

“And had you?” The man asked, his eyes never moving from Piper’s form, staring intently over the top of his glasses.

“No! Of course not, I’d never do something like that!” At least for that question Piper could give a genuine response, his head shooting up, a shocked and slightly angry look on his face as he glared at the psychiatrist.

“So he attacked you, and...then what?” Hartley had a feeling he knew where this was going, and he didn’t like it. He kept his poker face in place though, the glare slipping away as the doctor spoke.

“Then I woke up here.” He slumped back a little, letting his eyes droop tiredly, looking away from the dark haired man as he spoke.

“So you have no recollection of what happened between the attack and waking up in the hospital?” Doctor Felpz was leaning forward again, and Hartley was sure that if he moved too quickly the man would end up falling off his chair.

“No, nothing. Why, should I?” Total innocence, of course. He hadn’t been aware of anything between their argument and his present situation.

“The doctors here found evidence of a sexual assault, and the gentleman who brought you in said he believed you had been raped.” And there was the question. The doctor hadn’t moved, still staring, and he must have noticed the redhead’s visible wince at the question.

“It wasn’t rape.” He’d almost slipped, almost dropped his mask, but it was quickly back in place, though he couldn’t bring himself to look at the other man. He felt physically sick even talking about such things, but to show that would be to blow his cover completely.

“Hartley, the doctors took a sample of semen from inside you-“ Hartley wondered if that was the sort of information a psychiatrist should be privy to; did everyone know? Did Len know? That was going to take a lot of explaining away when he got home, just to stop the volatile brunette from hunting down and murdering his boyfriend.

“No, you don’t understand. We had sex, it wasn’t rape.” He replied with conviction, though the sick sensation was refusing to lessen and it was distracting him, making it incredibly hard to keep up the act.

“Rape still happens within relationships. Just because you’re dating someone, or married to them, doesn’t make forced sex right. It’s still rape.” That hit a nerve then, making the redhead start to doubt himself. He had to shake his head a little to clear it, trying to sort out the confusing jumble of thoughts and failing miserably. Damnit, this doctor was good, he was starting to get inside his head.

“I know, but this wasn’t.” Was it? No, this sort of thing had happened right from the start of their relationship, it was perfectly normal. Perfectly normal.

“Are you certain?” The man was pushy, more so than the redhead had expected. Most shrinks seemed to ask a question, leave it and then come back around to it later, asking the same thing in as many different ways as possible until they were satisfied with the answer.

“I’m positive. Honestly doctor, I’m a bit cut up and my pride’s bruised, and it looks like I’m single now, but other than that I’m fine.” He threw a dazzling smile at the man, the one he used to use on his father to get his own way, and the doctor seemed to cave.

“Alright, but if you need to talk to me, just ask one of the nurses. I’ll be back to see you again before you leave.” Doctor Felpz stood, shaking the redhead’s hand again before walking purposefully towards the door.

“Doctor?” Hartley called out, timidly, looking to finish the session off as cleanly as he could. “Thank you, I...it’s been nice speaking with you, to get things off my chest.” He smiled then, a shy, slightly flirtatious smile, hoping to make the doctor warm to him. “I really do appreciate it.”

“Any time.” The man smiled back, the expression reaching his eyes, making them twinkle. Either he was an actor of even greater calibre than the Pied Piper, or he’d fallen for it hook, line and sinker.

Settling back against his pillows, Hartley closed his eyes, waves of exhaustion washing over him as he lay there, trying to forget the conversation he’d just had to endure. He was soon asleep, snoring softly, and did not wake until the next morning when Nurse Jenny brought him his breakfast with a smile and a wink.
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To Love a Rogue