Fifty Shades Of Grey: My Years With Elena *Warning - Explicit Content*


'Picture this, an adolescent boy looking to earn some extra money so he can continue his secret drinking habit. So, I was in the backyard at the Lincolns', clearing some rubble and trash from the extension Mr. Lincoln had just added to their place. Elena - Mrs. Lincoln appeared out of nowhere and brought me some lemonade. I made some smart-ass remark...and she slapped me. She slapped me so hard. She then seduced me and I became her submissive for six years.'

And this is my account of what happened.



Tears are still streaming down my face when I arrive home. I stagger blindly into the garage and rest my bike against the far wall.

"Well, if it's not the gym bunny."

In my blind despair, I hadn't noticed my brother crouching by his trail bike, tool box open and his large hands covered in treacle-like engine oil.

Fuck off, Elliot...

I ignore him, but to get into the house I have to walk past him.

I can't let him see that I've been crying...

I swipe at my eyes and keep my head down as I try to get past. Elliot rises and stretches lazily upwards.

"Shame it's only her exercise bike you're riding..."

Before I can check myself, I explode at him, grabbing him by the throat and launching him against the garage wall, without loosening my grip.


My right arm is primed and ready to punch the crap out of him.

"Okay, okay bro, take it easy!" He squeaks as my fingers continue to crush his throat. "I'm sorry." He holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

His eyes are beginning to bulge and for the first time I see something in them I have never seen before.



I release my grip and he slides down the wall, clutching his throat and gasping for breath.

Holy fuck. I'm in so much trouble...

"Sorry just caught me at a bad moment," I mumble.

He nods, his breathing thankfully getting stronger.

"S'Okay. I was being an asshole." He croaks.

I nod, acknowledging the apology and the fact that he is an asshole.

He looks up at me through watery blue eyes. "You okay? You look like you've been crying."

Oh Christ, you're the last person I want to discuss my shit with...

I rub my forehead. "It''s just been a shitty day. I just want to go to bed."

Elliot rises slowly to his feet and looks like he's about to say something else, but then he just frowns, opens the side door that leads into the kitchen and steps aside.

Without looking at him, I slip gratefully past. I creep into the kitchen and checking the coast is clear, race through stealthily into the hallway and take the stairs three at a time. I burst through my bedroom door, close it behind me and hurl myself onto my bed, as huge sobs wrack my body.


I don't know how much time has elapsed as I slowly open my heavy eyelids. My bedroom is bathed in purple hues, so it's been at least an hour. I can feel my pillow is still damp from my tears. It's then I realise something.

I'm not alone...

Something warm is pressed into my back, whilst gentle fingers stroke my hair. I jerk my head round and come face to face with a pair of huge dark eyes, set in the cutest face on the planet...

Oh thank God.

"Mia," I breathe through a tight throat, sore from crying. "What are you doing here?"

"Our dipshit brother told me you were upset, so I came to find you."

"Mia don't cuss. It's not becoming for a young lady."

Mia rolls her eyes. "Jeez Christian, what century did you come from? Besides, you call him a dipshit all the time."

Despite everything - all the trauma of the day, the scene with Elliot and the lingering exhaustion and despair - I manage to smile. I twist the rest of my body so I am now lying on my side facing her and tenderly take an escaped tendril of silky jet hair off her cheek. She turns her face and kisses my hand.

Oh my darling, sweet little sister.

"So...what's upset you? Elliot thought it was him, but he said you looked liked you'd been crying before you bumped into him."

"Has he told mom or dad?" My heart sinks at the thought.

Mia shakes her head. "Mom's working late - some emergency at the hospital and dad only got in ten minutes ago. Elliot's still trying to put his stupid bike together as far as I know." She strokes my cheek. "For once, I think he did the right thing."

"That'd be a first." I chuckle and then sober up. "But I will clear the air with him. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"So..?" Mia persists, inquisitive as ever. "If you don't tell me what's wrong, I can't help you."

I close my eyes, sigh deeply and roll onto my back. Opening my eyes, I look warily at her.

"You really want to help me?"

"YES! How many more times?"

I smirk at her annoyed little face, then open my arms. "Then come and hold me and stop asking so many damn questions."

She frowns and pouts at me, then sighing in defeat, she slides across and puts her arm round my waist and her head on my chest.

"I love you, Christian Trevelyan-Grey." She murmurs into my chest. "Even when you're being a secretive pain in the ass!"

I chuckle and give her a squeeze in return.

And I love you, my darling Mia Trevelyan-Grey. Maybe one day I'll actually be able to say it to you. Why can't I say it out loud? She says it so often to me and I don't say it back. I just...can't. It's like if I do, she'll disappear like...

I squeeze my eyes shut to prevent the tears.

I can't say 'I love you' back. I can't say it to anyone. The last person I said it to was...

My gut twists in that familiar way and I fist my free hand to prevent Mia from feeling it.

I can't tell anyone I love them, the only touch I can bare is harsh, and the only person who I can tolerate to get this close is my little sister - probably because I've held her from day one and therefore I'm able to cope with it. Also, after the way I behaved earlier, I doubt Elena will want anything more to do with me and I can't remedy it, because I hate myself so much I can't get naked with her...

Fuck...better book a double session with Dr. Flynn...



After a long, exhausting but ultimately enlightening session with Dr. Flynn, I now know I have an actual medical condition. Dr. Flynn thinks I may have more underlying conditions, but for the time being we are focusing on my haphephobia - my fear of being touched - as at the moment that is my most pressing obstacle. Dr. Flynn has been a total revelation. I had all but given up on shrinks actually being able to help me, but then in comes young Dr. Flynn with his new ideas, British accent and total commitment to helping me get better. And for the first time in thirteen years since I first saw a Psychiatrist, I truly believe he can.

But in trying to get better, I had to be totally honest with him -which meant telling him all about Elena. It took me the best part of an hour, just to get to the point of the first slap - I stopped and started that many times. Thankfully Dr. Flynn has infinite patience and kept reassuring me every time I faltered. Once I got past that bit, the floodgates opened and I rattled off everything, barely pausing for breath. I even showed him the bruises on my calves from the damn cane. We're in the clutches of a summer heat wave and I can't wear shorts because of them. Mom queried it during a family supper and Elliot made a joke it was probably because I'd got my legs waxed and now I looked like a girl. That made everyone laugh - begrudgingly even me - but it took the heat off and it's never been mentioned again.

I never would have guessed I'd end up being indebted to that dipshit, but when I'd gone back down to the garage to apologise, he cracked open a couple of beers and for the first time like, ever, we talked. He said my attack on him was probably a long time coming and after I'd left him, he'd sat and thought long and hard about me. Apparently he still remembers me as a mute five year old with fearful eyes, who would jump at the slightest noise. He actually apologised for all the wise-cracks, wind-ups, and tattle-tailing he'd done to me over the years. He said it was his way of dealing with me because he didn't have the first clue of how to help me. He actually said it saddened him that his kid sister instinctively seemed to know how best to deal with me and he didn't. He also said it upset him that I'd been adopted as a traumatised child and was still seeing a shrink, when he and Mia had been adopted as babies and knew nothing but the privileged lives they'd had. He appreciated how tough it must have been and how unfair it was that I was still fighting my demons. In the end we shook hands and he promised to do his best to be more understanding and even said he'd show me how to ride his beloved trail bike! We've been getting on so much better since - everyone's noticed the difference - and our parents and Mia have been delighted by the turnaround. Dad's taking Elliot and I sailing this weekend as a treat for getting on so well. He's paying for sailing lessons and I'm so excited, I cannot wait. Who knew all it would take was for me and that dipshit to sit and talk? I'll have to delete all that pornographic footage I have of him. Oh and I'll also have to stop calling him a dipshit manwhore...

If I could just get passed this hurdle of haphephobia and be able to commit myself fully to Elena, it really would be the icing on the cake.

So here I stand doing one of Dr. Flynn's coping exercises. He calls it Solution-Focused Brief Therapy and it's all based on the goals I want to achieve. If some other shrink had suggested it, I wouldn't have been interested - been there, done that, failed miserably. But Dr. Flynn's so different to all the other shrinks and has already helped me more than any other Therapist ever has, so I'm willing to try any of his suggestions. I took my t-shirt off ten minutes ago and I'm standing in front of the full length mirror in my bedroom in just my jeans. He believes my fear of being touched stems from my disgust over my burn scars and how they have deformed my skin. Dr. Flynn actually managed to make me take my shirt off in front of him and saw with his own eyes how traumatic it is for me just to do even that in front of another person. So he thinks my first step should be just to stand and look at my topless reflection. If I can get over that, with time and practice, I might feel more comfortable to take my top off in front of Elena, and if I can do that, I may be able to eventually tolerate her touch on my torso.

But I still haven't opened my eyes.

They feel like they have been sealed shut with fear. In sixteen years I have never stood like this in front of the mirror and I am overwhelmed by feelings of exposure and vulnerability. Dr. Flynn explained I most probably would be, and taught me some deep breathing exercises to help me relax. He also said not to push it if it didn't happen the first time, just to keep practicing. I have never stood in front of a mirror and gazed at my naked torso. Even in the shower I've always kept my eyes firmly closed, preferring the roughness of the loofah brush than the soft sponge against my skin - like I'm trying to erase the scars and everything that goes with them. Dr. Flynn said it's all to do with my condition. All these years I just thought I had low self-esteem and an inherent self-loathing and it turns out I actually had a medical condition. You'd think some other bastard shrink would have picked up on that before now. Thank God Elena gave me his number.

ELENA. Shit.

I want to master this. I have to. It's already Wednesday and I'm meant to be due back in Elena's gym in two days for my next kick-boxing session. As much as I despised Linc's return this past week, it was actually a blessing in disguise. It's given me a good reason not to go back and face Elena sooner and it's given me the time and space to try and solve things.

And yet I still can't open my damn eyes!

My hands fist in frustration, then inspiration strikes.

What if I put my arm over my eyes like I used to when I first came to live with the Greys? I didn't know it at the time, but that was my coping mechanism for my new life - I could deal with it, if it revealed itself slowly before me.

Maybe if I can master this, it will be the start of a new chapter in my life.

A new life with Elena. That is...if she still wants me...

I grit my teeth. I can't just stand here with my eyes closed, breathing deeply all day. I raise my arm and bend it so that the elbow points towards the ceiling like a sharks fin. Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes and slowly begin to lower my arm.








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