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Summary
Finn was ten years old when his father sold him.
For fourteen years, he survived. He didn't fight. He didn't run. He learned to make himself small and useful, because wanting things was the fastest way to break his own heart, and because none of this mattered anyway. He was going to die soon, one way or another. By twenty-four, he stopped believing in rescue. In hands that don't hurt and In people who don't leave.
Then Micah found him.
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fuck it. another slavery mercyfic, because why not.
