Author's Note: This fanfic contains graphic depictions of violence and its aftermath as well as depictions of hallucinations and re-experiencing trauma. I do want to assure, however, that this fic attempts to realistically bring together two beings with deep emotional troubles in a way that does not romanticize abuse, but still acknowledges wrongdoings and the trauma of others' actions. This fic is an unnamed AU in which Henry experiences chapter 1-3 canon but the studio is left as is or nearly as is for however long it's been until the OC appears.

I mostly write this for both your enjoyment and mine, but reviews still brighten my day if you have any thoughts or comments.

Editing Notes as of 12/15/17: Chapter 8 has been heavily edited as of 12/15/17. For those that have read the chapter before this date, I have listed exactly what changed. The list can be found at the end of Chapter 8.

Editing Notes as of 1/28/18: There has been a significant detail change to Chapter 1 as well as other chapters that mention the detail. I will state it explicitly at the end of Chapter 1 for those who have read this before. Another minor but notable change has been added to Chapter 8, again described at the end of that particular chapter.)

Art notes: Some lovely friends have made me spectacular fan art! Please check them out! Be careful- They're spoilers for up to chapter 14!

Aceofintuition: post/171466863588/and-as-she-gazed-upon-the-very-face-that

Aceofintuition: post/170701725213/fanart-for-hat-engineers-lovely-fic-hymns-of

Metallicartist: post/172379231107/ever-feel-like-you-wana-read-a-good-fic-dont

COVER ART BY METALLICARTIST: post/172841971898/metallicartist-pipesflowforeverandever-last

1- A Death Wish

"For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him shall never perish, but have everlasting life." -John 3:16

Her skin clammed up as she reached for the dim, glistening light at the end of the dark hallway, the only doorknob that seemed to work in this godforsaken place. She trembled with anxiety and excitement, not finding what she was looking for but ready as hell to get out since she knew that now. The last thought she had was "the door can't be locked, I was just-"

And then she fell.

The floorboards cracked like thunder and splintered and cut all over her legs as they gave way, leading lead the way down to whatever waited below. Another loud crack followed, as she had landed on her abdomen. And almost immediately after, a primal, guttural scream. So much noise, but it seemed to echo into nothing, to no one.

A spotlight from the broken roof shined over the writhing figure. The world it touched was a sickly yellow, aged paper, but it didn't stray far from her. She started to lift herself from her ribs to her side, spasming as if she was moving her stomach out of her mouth. Her hand reached out and as it attempted to lift her upright, the other was unwilling to stop from holding herself. She had to leave. She knew no one was here to help, close enough to hear her call. She would soon wish for that to be the truth.

Another scream rang out and she lost her breath as something gripped her ankle and began to drag her, a thud sounding out as she fell back on her broken ribs. Her fingers scratched into the wood with their nails. She didn't know what was happening, but she needed it to stop; she was already fighting the siren call of unconsciousness. Being lead out of the light, her hand blindly hit a table leg and she held on for dear life. It dragged with her a little…and then hesitation. That cold, inhuman touch left finally her leg. She breathed in relief, but didn't let go, in case the machinery started up again. It must be some sort of abandoned production line, since there were all those strange, giant pipes above.

Just as she started to heave herself away from whatever was taking her, she saw something come for her hand and violently begin to pry her fingers off the table leg. It felt like- oh God, there's no way.

Other fingers.

Something came out of her mouth- she couldn't tell what- and she slammed the thing with her fist as hard as she could. It...squished in her touch, but did not waver and eventually was victorious. Feeling her palm in its' grasp, she was lifted up by the wrist and came face to face with what had to be another nightmare.

It dropped her from this height to the floor just as suddenly- almost as if it was a punishment for staring- and she felt her hands being forced behind her once she doubled over in pain. She felt rope graze her skin. She didn't know why, but she was fighting for her life and by God this wasn't going to be how it ends. There was a swift return of blows as she kicked it as hard as she could muster. A voice- a soft "ugh!" of surprise, and it sent her flying back.

The spotlight was over her yet again as it began to approach, looming over, its' skin glimmering like a puddle near a streetlamp in the early morning. She scrambled up to her feet and backwards, clutching a broken piece of wood that had joined her earlier plummet.

"Please!" she begged. It had never taken so much effort to heave a single word out of her throat. The figure stood still in the dark, soundless.

"Please!"

She was sobbing and shrieking by the time it started to approach once again, all her strength necessary to keep from dropping to the ground in hysteria. She knew it meant to kill her, she knew, and she knew she'd need to do anything to get out alive. Mucus filled her throat and nose as tears dripped from her cheeks, falling into her mouth and on the floor.

"PLEASE, I DON'T WANT TO HURT YOU!" The plea came without any forethought and she abruptly collapsed to her knees, making noises of agony and terror that went beyond words.

It strode into the light, a tall man with an inhuman smile- even through her burning tears she could see this was a monster- a tower of ink with pants and an unmoving expression, a stiff mask of a face she surely never wanted to see again.

Then it stood there, tilting its head. She didn't consciously think, but a shiver of agony pierced her, unknowing of what this moment meant, what this moment would lead to.

There was a long pause, every second of silence cutting into her soul.

And it just knelt down and picked her up.

She thrust her arms at him, begging for her life, beating into something that leaked a reeking liquid onto her hands no matter where she hit. There seemed to be no affect, but one could have noticed she was weakening in fervor and strength with every swing. The cries started to quiet as they left further and further down into the shadows and away from her only hope.

Chapter Notes: As of 1/28/18, I have decided that Sammy never hit the OC. This is counterintuitive to the purpose of this fic, played no significance, and makes decisions made later to seem to be condoning abuse. Thankfully I didn't put much thought into it in the first place, so extremely little in the actual text is different; it does, however, much better reflect the sentiment I have in writing this fic.