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This story is dedicated to you if you have ever been abused by someone bigger, stronger, and seemingly more powerful than you.  You are not alone.  You are infinitely precious.  And the trauma you endured is not your fault.  Know that you are so loved.  And whatever trauma you have been through – it does NOT define you.  You are a beautiful rose, a lovely lily, a most precious gem.

Rated M for Mature.  This story deals with some difficult topics and involves some graphic situations.

There had been a time when it had been the seven of them against the world.  Now they had an ARMY behind them.  Yet Yoongi remembered the early days.  When people laughed at their name and their belief in themselves.  Decried their goals.  Made fun of their message.  Oh, yes!  Yoongi remembered the bitter moments of all those years.  He recalled the pain and suffering.  He remembered the paralyzing fear he’d felt so often.  

So he identified with Stasia.  She felt alone.  A young woman standing up against a world where men had ruled for hundreds of years.  Doing as they pleased.  With women.  To women.  She was a girl exposing all her private pain to a cold, hard world in the hope that some justice could be found.  

Only, she wasn’t alone.  Not anymore.  She had been alone for months.  But she had reached out to Yoongi, and he had found her.  He wasn’t about to let her down now.  She was no longer on her own.  She had him.  They were two now.  And if he had anything to say about it, they would soon be eight.

As they entered her apartment a few minutes after leaving the police station, Yoongi shut the door, closing his bodyguards out of his private conversation with her.  Then he turned to her, and he reached for her hands.  He gently clasped them in the warm embrace of his long, slender fingers.  Fingers that had wooed a piano.  Ten digits that he hoped would bring her comfort and strength today.  His thumbs lightly stroked the tops of her fingers.  He wanted to feed her some comfort.  In any way he could.

“Stasia,” he whispered fervently, his eyes probing her own, “you are enough.”

She burst into tears.  The floodgates that she had managed to keep standing through the interrogation suddenly broke.  They were completely flattened by the tide of her grief.  All her pent-up fear and frustration spilled forth.  The hopelessness of months overwhelmed her.  Her dread of the future overcame her senses.  

What if she was pregnant?  What if she had acquired a disease that would slowly bleed her life away?  What if she stood up to her rapist, and the court raped her all over again, making her relive every terrifying moment, only to free her assailant in the end?  

What if Yoongi got tired of this battle and left her alone?  What if every quasi-friend she’d made here turned their backs on her?  What if the darkness closed in as she lay down in her bed?  Not just tonight but every night for the rest of her life?  What if there was no escape?  And no relief?

Yoongi squeezed her hands before releasing them to pull her into his arms.  The gentle fingers of his right hand stroked her back as his left arm slid around her waist, drawing her up against him.  She buried her face in his chest.  He could feel the heat of her breath passing through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Is this okay?” he asked.  He didn’t want to violate a single boundary of hers.

She nodded as she sobbed against his breastbone.  Her hands came up.  She splayed her palms over that strong chest.  Her face was buried between them.  She could feel the reassuringly strong beat of his heart beneath her fingertips.  

His ears took in the sound of her weeping.  Yoongi’s shirt was absorbing the moisture of her tears.  Slowly, the heat of his body wrapped around her in comforting waves.  Almost in time to the steady rhythm of his precious heart.  Encapsulated by his embrace, she began to calm herself.

Finally, she forced some words out.  “Thank you for being there for me today, Yoongi.  Thank you for providing me with a really good attorney.  But most of all, for bringing your presence.  For being with me.  I know they listened to me because you were with me.  Your voice carries weight, Yoongi.  So does your presence.  Thank you.  Thank you for being here.  For however long you choose to stay.”

His heart sank.  She thought he was going to leave her.  He could hear her insecurity in the tone of her voice as well as in the choice of her words.

“Stasia, I’m here for the long haul.  I’m not naive enough to believe that this will all be over in a few weeks.  This could drag on for months.  But you will get your life back, Stasia.  I will make sure of it.”  

He wanted to kiss her, to cover her in sweet kisses that would convince her of her worth to him.  But he was, quite honestly, afraid to touch her in any way that could be interpreted, even in the loosest sense, as sexual.  She had been so abused.  So mishandled.  He needed to tread so carefully here.