Archive of Our Own ^beta

Amelia first started going to the Kermit Martial Arts Center two months ago when a minor break in at the Vet Clinic spooked her. They never found out if someone was trying to steal medicines, an animal or if it was a simple case of vandalism. They arrived in the morning and one of the back door locks was broken but it didn’t seem like the person managed to enter the clinic, and inside everything was in order. Nevertheless they filed a police report, Sam installed cameras and connected them to the laptop with alerts to her phone. Amelia decided to take self-defense classes and have Sam take her out for target practice since it had been a while since she had shot. True to form by the end of the first class she was the owner’s new best friend. She knew about Julie’s offerings, quickbook problems, competitors and love life. As a small business owner herself they often ended up chatting after classes and commiserating about the struggles of taxes, employees, marketing and invoicing. So it was no surprise to Sam when she came home after class one afternoon and told him he was volunteering to help her friend with one of her classes at the center. 

“I am not a martial arts teacher.” Sam points out genuinely concerned.

“Oh no honey, you are going to be the bad guy. All Julie needs is you to be big and strong and let the students attack you.”

“So, let me get this straight, you volunteered me to go and get beat up?” Sam looks at her bewildered.

“It will be fine, I’m sure it’s like 6 and 7 year olds.” She smiles with her soft white teeth and a sarcastic glint.

“It’s going to be a 300 lb trucker huh?” Sam retorts and Amelia chuckles and shrugs her shoulders. 

The day of the class Sam shows up at the time Amelia told him and seeks out Julie in her office located in the back of the gym,  she waves him in and tells him she is so glad he is helping with this special project. She asks him to join her and to sit down. 

“Yeah, sure, anything to help. Am I late? I see everyone leaving.” Sam points to the thinning out of the gym.

Julie opens her eyes wide, “Sam, how much did Amelia tell you?”

“Umm, she told me I was going to be the bad guy, and to let the students beat me up.” 

“Oh boy,” Julie closes her office door, and returns to her desk  “So, yes, that is correct. However there is one more detail, and maybe it was that I didn’t explain it well to Amelia, or she didn’t want to scare you off. So, the gym is closing now and this is an afterhours class that we provide to victims of sexual assault. The idea is to recreate their attack and allow them a measure of victory over that painful memory. There’s only 3 girls, in two of the cases you will do it by yourself and in one I will assist to recreate a multiple assailant attack. I will give you the way you will approach and initially attack them, as well as any trigger words that would be useful if you can incorporate and then after that it's what you were told, let them beat you up. You can defend yourself, you don’t have to make it easy for them but let them be victorious. Once they beat you, you step back, come hang out here in my office and the counselor we have steps in. Sound good?” 

Sam is gripping the sides of the chair tightly. This sounds the furthest thing from good. He scoffs a little. “It sounds pretty intense, I didn’t know this was what we were going to be doing.”

“Oh, I mean if you can’t I understand. I’m sorry Amelia didn’t tell you. I can do it by myself. We were just excited to get some practice with someone that was like a real perp, in the physical way not like personality.” She quickly amends. 

Sam shakes his head, “I get it, no worries.” He sighs and thinks about Amelia, if he goes home now what will he tell her? It would lead to some pretty uncomfortable questions. It’s a few punches from a few girls, he is used to fighting. He is already here and he’d be helping somebody. “Let’s do it.” He says with more bravado than he feels.

The next hour and a half are among the most intense and least pleasant but most certain that he is doing something significant for someone else that Sam has experienced in a long time. He disappears quickly into Julie’s office after each attack and beating. Allowing the girls to group hug, the counselor to provide support and the catharsis to occur in a mix of tears, words and screams that intermingle. He doesn’t come out to say goodbye as they leave, his service is more of a tool and they all rather forget he was part of the process, he can understand that.

The gym is empty, all the lights are turned off and they are about to walk out when Julie asks him, “Care to do one more?” 

Since it's only the two of them, he figures it's for her. He really isn’t in the mood but wants to be fair and she is his girlfriend’s friend. “Umm, sure.” he sighs deeply as he heads to the center of the mat. “How do you want me to attack you?” he asks her.

“You tell me, Sam.” Julie responds in a low, almost menacing tone.

“What?” Is she saying it's the dealer's choice? He wonders if this is some sort of fucked up flirtation. Amelia would be devastated if Julie turned out to be that type of friend. Sam straightens up, looking for the exits and takes a step back.

“Getting nervous?” His eyes flash back to her, his adrenaline starts to kick in, his body crouches into a defensive stance. “I’m serious Sam, don’t think of this as a now problem. Tell me about before. How did they attack you?” Julie is circling him, speaking low.

Sam shakes his head. “Not now?” he asks with confusion in his voice, his eyes trailing Julie. 

“Right, in the past. Like the girls. Where did they cause you pain?”

“What?” his voice quivers with a mix of confusion and fear.

“Where do I grab you to make you mine?” Julie snarls as her body drops, a hyena about to attack.

Sam swallows and his hand goes to his throat, “Here,” he whispers. 

Before he can finish lowering his hand she is at him like a banshee gripping his neck with both hands, squeezing hard. She knees him quickly in the stomach three times all while still choking him. Sam  stammers, “Please don’t,” but his arms go limp at his sides and he falls to his knees where he then stays still.

“Stop whining bitch and fight,” Julie yells at him, while she punches him. 

“No, you're trying to trick me.” Sam hiccups as he tries to keep his cries from breaking free. 

Julie tries one more time, “Fight, Sam, Fight!” She slaps him across the face. He doesn’t even react. She approaches to choke him again, he trembles but leaves his neck exposed to allow it, tears streaking down his face. Julie sighs and stands back. “Sam, go to the bathroom and wash up. I’m sorry. You weren’t ready for this. I messed up.”

Sam looks at her in bewilderment and slowly it dawns on him that what she is saying is real. There is no trick. He isn’t here. Sam stands up and walks briskly to the bathroom. He washes his face, wiping away the tears but he can’t wash away 160 years of bad memories. His hands tremble as he wipes down the faucet with a paper towel, a delay tactic as his breathing calms down. His mind is playing tricks on him. He’s at a martial arts gym in Kermit, Tx. He is fine, he is safe. He is never letting Amelia talk him into helping any of her friends again. He swings open the bathroom door ready to leave this terrible afternoon behind and is frozen in place.

The mats have disappeared to reveal bars, with the always present demons poking their limbs through, trying to touch and grab, their vile stench of sulfur permeating the space. The body bags are now hooks with chains rattling and empty, waiting for a body, his, to be strung up. The sparring equipment is now torture equipment. And Julia stands in the middle of the gym, turning around, with him breaking through her. Her vessel won’t hold him long. It will be one of the fastest he burns through ever. “Fancy a sparring partner?”

“You aren’t real,” he whispers in terror.

“Ah, Sam. I am buddy.” Julia/Lucifer snaps her fingers in front of him. She pulls her phone out of her pocket. 

“Please, don’t tell Amelia.” Sam pleads as his body slips unbidden to his knees. This is the position he knows Lucifer prefers to be addressed in. “Please, I’m sorry.” He says in Enochian.

“How fast can you get back here? The big guy, yeah, the assailant stand-in, he flipped. Well, the same as the girls. I kinda thought I saw something and pushed it. Yeah, I know, yeah, stupid move I know I’m sorry. But can you come? Thank you, omg, thank you! He is speaking tongues or some shit it’s bad. I’ll owe you big time!”

When Sam walks into the house later that afternoon, Amelia wants to go out for dinner but he begs off, convincing her to order pizza instead, claiming to be tired because they beat him up so badly at the class. 

“Oh those 7 year olds got the best of you?” she teases, as she pulls at his shirt. “Let me see the bruises.” He pulls her hands off gently, more so than his brain wants to. 

“Yeah, I wish it had been the 300 lb trucker.” He starts to tease back but the words get stuck and he suddenly feels his eyes water. “I’m going to shower while the pizza gets here.” he rushes past her to the safety of the bathroom. “I am in Kermit Tx. I am in my home. I am fine. I am safe. I am going to eat pizza with my girlfriend and watch TV.”  He counts his breaths. He repeats the mantra. Again. He breathes. He hears the doorbell. He repeats it. “I am in Kermit Tx. I am in my home. I am fine. I am safe. I am going to eat pizza with my girlfriend and watch TV.” He does it again and again until the sarcastic voice in his head that replies, “of course bunk buddy, of course you are" finally quiets down and he can leave the bathroom to make it true.