A/N: After two years in the making, it's finally done. All I ask of readers is to please not be scared off by the sheer length of it, as it seriously just started writing itself the second my pencil decided to meet paper. There are some darker themes, but nothing explicit, and I can't say how happy I am with how it turned out. So, I hope you all enjoy my first (and, honestly, probably only) AU fic, inspired by BoB's song as well as the numerous airplanes that fly by my window every night and make me think of shooting stars.
Airplanes
It was hot out, stifling, sluggishly so. The natural flora surrounding them seemed to be drooping under the cloying humidity and even the incessant chirping of cicadas seemed lazy. They were in the midst of a heat that made one long for the cool dry refuge of an air-conditioned room, however the two of them were stuck with lookout duty in the middle of the amazon.
"Tell me again, why are we here?" Kid Flash groused, glaring over his shoulder at the sizeable military compound well hidden amongst the trees. In the past hour alone, the young speedster had been tugging nonstop at the tight spandex suffocating his body and he was more than ready to be done with the mission.
"Because the others are up at the dam actually doing something." Robin replied flatly, refusing to let the heat get the better of him as he perched motionlessly on a questionably stable tree branch. "You and I drew the short straws and so are stuck watching for stray militia while the others get to go destroy the weapons." He sighed, reminding his partner for the third time why they were bored as hell and currently being treated to a free sauna, wanted or not.
"Oh, right." Kid Flash's shoulders dropped sadly, making Robin silently laugh at his best friend's antics as the redhead sulkily sat at the bottom of Robin's tree, petulantly pulling at the grass between his fingers. The usually active teen decided to pass the time by numbering the numerous things that were annoying him about this mission.
"Stop pouting, it could be worse." Robin suddenly dropped down beside the downtrodden speedster and settled himself snugly into his side. "We could be freezing our butts off on an iceberg."
Kid Flash merely grunted in response, although he did accept the cuddly body beside him despite the borderline unbearable heat. He supposed that if he were to be stuck with the most boring job a mission could possibly offer, at least he had his boyfriend to complain to and keep him company.
"Hey Rob, do you believe in alternate universes?" Kid Flash asked suddenly, eyes staring off into the clear blue sky visible in patches through the canopy of the forest.
Following the gaze of his boyfriend, who never seemed to pass up a chance to reaffirm his craziness, Robin blinked almost sleepily into the beams of warm sunlight. "I thought you were a man of science, if it's not proven it's not true." Robin commented absently, his own thoughts stimulated by Kid Flash's odd question.
"I was just wondering." Robin watched with slight concern as Kid Flash's brows drew closer in troubled thought. "Do you think that if we existed in a different dimension we'd still meet, become friends, and, you know…" thought filled eyes turned to meet Robin's.
In the bright sunlight, Robin could pick out flecks of deep emerald amongst light celadon green in the eyes that he had somehow fallen in love with. Robin also knew that if the light shifted just so, streaks of gold would appear in his love's eyes.
Sighing deeply to banish his heat muddled musings, Robin had a response on his lips when his head jerked towards the mountainous peak looming above the military base. Kid Flash was about to turn to see what the distraction was when a strong hand gripped his, causing him to look back at suddenly panicked masked eyes.
"Wally, I love you."
Kid Flash barely had time to look confused when he was suddenly slammed in the back with a force that easily rivaled that of a thousand trucks plowing into him at once.
Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky were like shooting stars?
The cold winds of an early winter were cruel as they tore through the deserted back alleys of Mahtog, swirling up scraps of yellowed newspapers and random pieces of discarded litter. The twists and turns of Mahtog's maze-like alleyways were the city's distinguishing division line between the suburban world of the rich and affluent and the run down drug-ridden slums.
For those few who tried to escape the plague of slum life, the maze was both a gateway to salvation and a twisting catacomb of death. Gang members, rapists, murderers, and traffickers alike crawled the alleys like a horde of disease infested vermin, just lying in wait for their next unsuspecting victim before striking.
Crumbling brick walls were covered in layers of graffiti painted on top of one another as gang wars caused dominance of the maze to change hands on an almost weekly basis. Whenever gang numbers fell to bullets, new members were snatched from the pool of slum children just waiting for their fates in life. Outsiders, from the other side of the maze, told stories of nightmare inducing echoes of gunshots and screams ricocheting off of the maze's cold walls.
When night fell, the maze came alive with unscrupulous activities of its inhabitants, leaving it so that as dawn came slowly upon the city the stale smell of cheap alcohol, blood, and sex permeated the air like coughing gas, driving all signs of life into hiding until night fell once again. It was a never ending cycle with no foreseeable end, as the city's law had long ago ceased its attempts at taming the maze.
Sunny Side Orphanage sat huddled away at the very farthest corner of the slums, standing as a battered remnant of happier times. Like all other slum dwellings, the aging Victorian house was dull in color and clearly unkempt, almost sagging demurely beneath the heavy smog and pollution that filled the lungs of empty lives.
It was within the walls of Sunny Side that Gray Richardson lived, a sixteen year old boy who had seen too much since being abandoned as a baby. He supposed that he should feel lucky that his parents at least cared enough to leave him at a place where he stood an iota of a chance at survival. However, life at Sunny Side was not all rainbows and sunshine as the faded, rotting wooden sign out front would like to promote.
The orphanage was run by a well meaning but mentally unstable woman who, despite her best intentions, refused extra help even when there were far too many unwanted children to care for. Most days Freida could keep it together and provide what she could for the fifteen children of varying ages under her roof to an adequate degree. Then there were the days when her insanity crippled her to uselessness and the house fell into chaos.
Being the oldest one who cared enough to stay, Gray found the responsibility of clothing, feeding, and controlling his foster siblings falling on him more often than not. Without a complaint or even the bat of an eye, Gray assumed his role seamlessly whenever he woke to Freida's frantic shrieks and wordless wails rattling through the deathly cold house.
Bare feet would tiredly meet stone cold floors accompanied by a wince as the thinly pale teen forced himself out of bed, trying to block out Freida's bashing against her locked door. Ever since that one night when Freida woke in one of her frenzies and little four year old Connor was found stabbed to death the next morning, Gray made sure to lock her door every night before falling into bed.
After pulling on the nearest pair of faded, hem frayed jeans and thin gray hoodie, Gray would set about rousing the rest of the house. Once all fourteen of his siblings were dragged, kicking and screaming at times, from sleep and coaxed into the mold filled communal bathroom that resisted all attempts of cleaning, Gray would trudge down the rickety stairs that were half falling into the dank basement to the kitchen.
With a weary sigh worthy of a much older man, Gray would light the stove to try and tempt some warmth into the house before setting about making breakfast. With fourteen hungry mouths to feed, quick and simple was the answer. Two dozen eggs quickly scrambled in a cracked mixing bowl and three loaves of toasted bread later and the sound of pattering feet would fill the house. Bedraggled looking miscreants would eagerly take their place around the dilapidated wooden table that was semi-evened out by a couple of thick phonebooks shoved under the broken leg.
Conversation was practically nonexistent as tired eyes tried to stay open while Gray got plates of food to everyone and cheap jars of mostly empty jam on the table. It wasn't much, he knew that, but at least he made sure they didn't go off to school on empty stomachs. Not much could touch Gray's jaded heart anymore, but his siblings were an exception.
Megan and Allie, seven year old twins with the sweetest dimples when they actually smiled, were joined at the hip and barely spoke to anyone but each other. Terry was a very flippant ten year old with a sharp wit and sharper mind, and Gray only hoped that Terry would somehow find a better life outside the slums. Jared, at only a year and a half younger than Gray, was an angry boy who had been abused from a young age until he finally escaped. After seeing the angered knife slashes on the walls of Jared's room, Gray made sure none of the others were left alone in a room with him. The gangs surely had a place waiting for Jared once he left Sunny Side.
Then there was Kyle, a quiet boy who preferred his books to people. No one knew his story, and no one bothered to ask anymore. From the edgy way that he watched people over the tops of his books, Gray had a feeling it was all for the best. Devon, Gray feared, had the anger simmering in his six year old being to follow in Jared's path. Devon was willing to talk though, so perhaps he still stood a chance.
While all of his siblings worried him to some degree of alarming, there was one young soul who was still pure and untouched by the horrors of the slums. Cassie was the blonde epitome of sunshine, as she always had a smile or hug to offer even though she had no voice to comfort her older siblings with. This little angel in a world of darkness who wordlessly demanded bedtime stories each and every night scared Gray the most. She was only three, and if something didn't happen before she turned five to snuff out her light it would be a miracle.
Gray cared for each of his siblings equally, but felt a fierce desire to protect the youngest from their world for as long as possible.
Once angrily gnawing stomachs were appeased for the while, Gray would herd everyone old enough for school to the door. Making sure that backpacks were present, lunch sacks were grabbed from the painfully empty fridge, and homework was in possession, Gray ushered everyone out before turning back to assure himself that the young ones were safely seated in front of the cracked and outdated television. It was not by any means the best babysitter in the world, but beggars couldn't be choosers and it would have to do.
Stepping out into the dirty streets that smelled acutely of urine, Gray made sure everyone was bundled up as much as their threadbare jackets would allow. Noticing that Devon had somehow lost his scarf, again, Gray sighed as he unwound the one he wore before securely wrapping it around Devon's neck.
Moving the group along down the dirty streets blackened from residual coal burnings, Gray determinedly ignored the haunted eyes of the slum's inhabitants following them. Sending children to the slum's less than mediocre school was not unheard of, but increasingly declining as children dropped out, lured away by the beckoning of drugs and violence. Gray was determined, however, to give his siblings the best fighting chance he could.
After dropping his siblings off at the rundown, sorry excuse of a school building directly across the street from a liquor store, Gray sent his daily silent prayer to a god he did not believe in for his siblings' safety. He noticed Jared eyeing the group of boys passing around a joint in the shadows of the school, but couldn't find the energy to care anymore than he already did. Caring so much for fourteen souls who would most likely find themselves destroyed before they could escape the hell they were born to was the most draining thing that Gray had ever put himself through.
With his siblings seen off, it was time for Gray to brave the maze in order to get to his own school that was in the heart of the outside world. You see, Gray was smart, incredibly smart, and more than anything he was determined. He was determined to someday escape the slums and find his way in the world that didn't demand he fight and kill for his survival. It would mean leaving everyone behind, the freedom that he was chasing, and it would be hard, but he had to do it for himself. Guilt could come later.
Knowing the slums, it probably will have consumed all that Gray cared about by the time he finally escaped.
Coming upon the splay of abandoned factory buildings whose smoke stacks had seen years of usage and whose interspersed gaps formed the maze, Gray felt his senses becoming unnaturally alert. Usually morning was a safe time to travel through the maze, but one could never be sure when it was their life on the table.
Safely maneuvering his way through the maze to come out in weak early morning sunlight on the other side, Gray paused in his steps to tilt his head back with a relieved sigh. Another morning survived.
The outside world, as the people of the slums referred to it, was the polar opposite of Gray's world. Somehow left untouched by the deep rooted history in industrialism that Mahtog had, the outside world was nothing but clear blue skies and crisp fresh air. Infrastructure was towering and clean, obviously benefiting greedily from city funds. The streets were impeccably neat and clean, and birds and squirrels ran rampant in the part of the city that was actually capable of sustaining life.
Gray never felt right whenever he stepped into the outside world. He always felt too dirty, too tainted, too dulled, and too drained of life for the bright and bustling outside world. He was leaving a world of gray dreariness for a world of light, but the washed out atmosphere of the slums seemed to always cling to his body no matter where he tried to escape.
Seeing stares of a different kind than those from home being leveled upon him, Gray felt his head naturally bow as he flipped his hood up before setting off down the street. Gray was not ashamed of who he was or where he was from, but the outside world always made him huddle in on himself due to the scathing looks of disgust.
The telltale signs of a harsh winter to come also did not contribute to standing tall with shoulders back. Never having more than a T-shirt and hoodie on his back, coupled with constantly losing his scarf to Devon, even if Gray wanted to walk the outside streets proudly his shivers would not allow it.
Shiny cars that were worth enough to feed Sunny Side for months whizzed by Gray's figure as he walked block after block to get to one of the best high schools for cities around. By the time he entered the blissfully heated building, the last warning bell was blaring through the mostly empty hallways.
In a high class outside school, no one was very happy with the presence of a slummer. To everyone around him, Gray was nothing but a quietly brooding time bomb just waiting to go on a killing spree. At this point Gray was very familiar with Hal, the security guard who gave Gray a thorough pat down inspection on a daily basis.
Gray was brilliant though, he always tested the highest in his class and never got anything but A's despite his permanent seat in the back corners of classrooms, so his existence was tolerated. No one dared to mess with him, so his school life was pretty peaceful. He spoke to no one, kept his head down in studies, and managed to get by by shutting out the frivolous white noise of his peers.
After school he'd trudge back through the outside world, brave the maze in falling dusk, and find his way home in the hopes that Freida had regained enough of her sanity to cook dinner so that he might have a break to get his homework done. It was a viciously brutal and tiring cycle, the life that Gray lived, and he was forever wishing for the day when it would finally stop.
The change that Gray needed in his life came on a Tuesday deeply nestled in the embrace of winter. School had finished hours ago but Gray had stayed late in the library to finish a project. The other children of Sunny Side walked themselves home every day, and Freida had awoken that morning with as sound a mind as possible, so Gray was in no hurry to get home.
By the time he had everything packed away into his bag, the clock on the library wall read seven ten. As if understanding that dinner had not been consumed when it should have been, Gray's stomach let out a pitiful grumble of a plea for sustenance. Unfortunately, no one at Sunny Side was getting too much to eat until the meager welfare check came the following week. If only Gray were accepted enough to get work that didn't involve selling his body.
Speaking of which, the world just beyond the windows was pitch black already, meaning that the maze would be a perilous venture to go through and come out of unscathed. Nothing to help it though, Gray thought with a weary groan.
Forcing himself up and off the uncomfortably stiff wooden chair that had held him captive for the past four hours, Gray put a mental block between stomach and brain before pulling on his hoodie and heading out into the cold. The harsh winds that had chilled Gray to the bone that morning had mercifully let up so that all Gray had to endure once he stepped foot out of the school was the sub-zero temperature.
With hood pulled up and hands shoved deeply into pockets, Gray assumed his inwardly slouching posture before backtracking his morning route. The walk in the outside was never a very eventful one, leaving Gray with only his thoughts to distract him from his discomfort. In the outside world it was safe to let his guard down and just mechanically walk towards his destination.
A sudden jerking feeling tugged Gray's equilibrium out from under him as his world spun for a moment and left him nearly face down on the snow covered sidewalk. Sitting up to glare menacingly at the dirtied laces of scuffed shoes two sizes too big for him, Gray supposed there could be worse threats than untied shoelaces.
Reaching to retie his laces, Gray's eyes left the sidewalk for the first time since he'd let school and landed on the building before him. Situated snugly beside its two neighbors, the sizeable building was painted in light lavender with yellow stars scattered here and there. On the glass door in frosted lettering were the words Shooting Stars Gymnastics Academy: Rising above the Unexpected.
A raging conflict reared up within Gray upon reading those words. It was damn freezing out and he should just get off his ass and go home, but this academy no doubt would have equipment of a caliber that Gray had never known. Surely this chance couldn't be passed over so easily.
Almost as if in a trance, Gray found himself rising from the sidewalk and walking towards the door. Looking in, the place seemed to be dark and empty. A quick test of the lock affirmed that the academy was closed for the night. Casting a discrete sweep of the street, Gray pulled out a well used lock pick from his pocket and began working on the door. Within moments, a very satisfying click rewarded Gray's efforts with an unlocked door.
Slipping quickly in and closing the door behind him, Gray let out a breath he hadn't been consciously holding as adrenaline rushed through his body like wildfire. He hadn't had this heady of a rush in a long while. Letting a seldom seen grin grace his lips, Gray moved swiftly past the reception area to the open training room beyond it.
Flipping the board of switches beside the doorway, the dark open space instantly lit up with overhead lighting. Spread out before the young teen was a scene straight out of his wildest dreams. Directly in front of him was a large floor exercise area with white lines boxing the legal zone. To his left were several balance beams of different heights with mats beneath to catch still unsure footed students. In the corner behind the balance beams were parallel and uneven bars, behind the floor exercise area was a cleared runway leading to a vault, and the entire right hand side of the gym consisted of rings, pommel horse, and trampoline.
Gray felt that he must have died and woken up in heaven.
Setting down his bag and slipping off his shoes in dumbfounded awe, Gray tried to decide where he'd start. Shedding his hoodie and wondering if this was what it felt like to be a child presented with an actual gift, Gray decided that breaking in would be his Christmas gift to himself this year. Deciding on the floor exercise area to start off with, Gray stretched out surprisingly toned muscles as his head continually swiveled around trying to take it all in.
This would be the closest Gray would ever get to achieving his hidden dream of being on television like those athletes he'd watched with wide eyes when he was a kid, and he intended to take full advantage of the opportunity.
With warmth returned to his muscles Gray stood from the springy mat and took up position in a corner, his bare heels hugged right up against the line. Taking a deep breath, Gray raised his arms in preparation and then he was off. Being able to flip, tumble, and twist on a forgiving surface that was not made of dirt was exhilarating. Flipping whichever way he desired while trying to stay in the lines and fighting to not bounce off every time he landed quickly became a game that had Gray laughing in joy at the sheer silliness of it.
Already high off of happiness, Gray turned to the rings next. Not having a spotter to catch him didn't worry the teen at all as he unhesitatingly sprung up to grip onto the chalk coated rings. Feeling the delicious stretch in his muscles, Gray didn't waste any time in flipping his body around into a perfect handstand, holding the position for a few good counts, and then dropping his body into an elegant series of turns and twists before dismounting with ease.
One would be hard pressed to find a happier kid than Gray was as he continued to explore the entire area's treasures.
Once his excited energy had finally been spent, Gray took to the balance beams for a cool down stretch and breathing regulation. Balancing steadily on one foot after executing a few lazy cartwheels and springs, Gray had his eyes peacefully closed as he raised his other leg behind him, leaning forward for a better stretch as he breathed evenly in and out.
"Hey."
Eyes shot wide open as balance was suddenly lost and Gray had to hastily shoot a hand forward to make contact with the beam quick enough to flip his body forward and land solidly on the ground. Looking towards the intrusive voice, Gray found himself staring at a sheepish looking teen a good head taller than himself with flaming red hair stepping from the shadows.
"Sorry, didn't mean to throw you off." The teen apologized as Gray stood stock still, eyes never leaving the stranger. "I was cleaning up the locker rooms and didn't hear you come in, thought I'd locked that door. Anyways, you're really amazing." The stranger offered a friendly smile that Gray did not return.
An awkward silence hung in the air as Gray mentally sized the other one up. The stranger would have Gray at a disadvantage in a fight height wise and muscle wise, but Gray was quick and deadly when he had to be. Then again, judging by the stranger's very put together appearance and designer name clothing Gray felt that this was not a person who would know a thing about scrapping.
Sensing no threat from the other teen, Gray wordlessly went to where he'd left his belongings and got ready to leave. Knowing that the other teen was shifting in place without needing to look, Gray mentally scoffed at the picture he was sure the other was making.
"Um, you know, you're really not supposed to be here after hours, but-do you not have a coat?" The stranger's mouth dropped open as Gray moved towards the exit. "It's freezing out there! I-hey!" A hand grabbed at Gray's arm and a second later the stranger found himself slammed against the wall with a switchblade at his neck and iron grip hands crushing the air from his lungs.
Initial jerk reaction to attack and survive subsided, Gray noticed the panicked look in far too green eyes and the gasping breaths being forced into straining lungs. Collecting himself with a deep breath of his own, Gray removed his knife and hand with a wry smirk.
"Apologies, you caught me off guard." Gray turned back towards the exit with an unconcerned air. "By the way, you might want to get that lock of yours checked." He called over his shoulder as he left the building.
As the cold hit him straight in the face, Gray amended that his once in a lifetime foray had been fun, but it was time to return to reality. There was still the task of getting through the maze to look forward to after all. If he hurried, he may even get back in time to tell Cassie her bedtime story.
Wes Wallaston had been shocked. Never in his life had he ever anticipated feeling a knife against his throat that was being held by a slight waif of a guy with hard jaded eyes. Really, all Wes had been guilty of was being volunteered to straighten the place up by his uncle, also the owner of the place. Personally, Wes had no interest in gymnastics. He was far too tall and uncoordinated to have the patience for it. He was, however, very close to his uncle, and so found himself constantly getting suckered into helping out.
As such, Wes had been witness to talented gymnasts throughout his life, even a couple of Olympians. Therefore, upon hearing a disturbance while cleaning and going to investigate, Wes could tell instantly that the stranger had skill. Apparently, the stranger also had an edge to him.
In their short interaction time, the prominent feature that was noticed about the slim teen had been gray. A lot of gray. It seemed as if he'd been made of swirling mists of the color. From his apparel to his aura to the storm gray eyes that had briefly flashed a dangerous icy blue when the knife came out, the stranger was…gray. He was also, obviously, from the slums.
The gray stranger remained a mystery that Wes found himself constantly mulling over for the next two weeks. Every time he was at the academy he kept a vigilant eye watching for the stranger, but he was nowhere to be found. When questioned, no one at the academy had seen nor heard of the one that was slowly becoming an obsession of Wes'.
There was just something about the grace in that body and the look in those eyes that spoke of years of fighting in a world that wanted him dead. What would his parents think seeing their only son enraptured by a slummer? Then again, they were far too busy jetting around the world rubbing elbows with the rich and famous to be concerned with what their son was up to. Never mind that at the still tender age of eighteen Wes was considered a genius and currently working with a scientist who was on the verge of finding a new cancer drug.
Genuine, affectionate love from socialite parents who had only had a child to fit in with their crowd of superficial leeches was a rarity in the outside world.
That's why Wes had become so attached to his uncle from a young age. Warm, caring, and just as rich as his sister with their shared upbringing in the lap of luxury, Allen Barr had turned away from the society he'd been born into and instead used his inheritance to follow his passion of sport and spoil his nephew to death.
It was the passion and unwavering determination that Wes had always admired in his uncle that he'd witnessed in his gray stranger. If only he could find the mysterious stranger again and have a conversation that didn't involve the possibility of getting knifed.
"If you keep zoning and sighing like that you're going to drop someone." Allen's laughing voice brought Wes back to the floor exercise mat where he was kneeling while helping four year olds through stumbling cartwheels.
"And I suppose a lawsuit isn't high on your list?" Wes asked with a grin, glancing over at the youth instructor, Lara, to make sure he had a moment to talk with his uncle.
"I could take them." Allen waved dismissively, his words holding true in Wes' opinion. Before finally realizing that his dreams meant more than approval, Allen had been quite the accomplished law student. "Besides that, what's been up with you lately?" Allen kneeled beside his nephew as Lara gathered her class around her.
"I met someone." Wes started, but upon seeing the sudden light in his uncle's eyes hastened to add, "who I only talked to for like a minute and in that time I'm pretty sure he attempted to kill me. I didn't even get his name before he ran off." Wes pouted as Allen felt an eyebrow travel up towards his forehead.
"Explain."
So Wes told him all about his encounter with the mystery slummer two weeks prior. Upon hearing how the lock had been picked, Allen shot a worried glance towards the reception area.
"He only wanted to use the equipment, he wasn't after money." Wes waved off his uncle's worried look. "He knew what he was doing, you could tell. He had talent, just not the means to practice. He can't be punished for that."
"Still, breaking and entering along with assault with a concealed weapon should be reported." Out of place frown lines had appeared on Allen's face as his lips tilted down.
"I startled someone who lives every day worrying about getting jumped, it was a natural defense response." Wes defended his unknown person. "And again, he just wanted to try out the equipment." Seeing that his uncle's frown had yet to abate, Wes found himself frowning a little. "Don't judge someone's intentions solely based on something that they can't control. You taught me that."
Feeling unusual anger towards his uncle well up within him, Wes stood from the mat and left for the locker room. He was done with his day's gym work in five minutes anyways. It was inexplicable, the strong feelings of protectiveness that Wes felt towards a person he didn't even know. The stranger could have easily, as Allen was thinking, sliced Wes' throat open that night without a thought.
But he hadn't, and that made Wes believe that there was much more to the slummer than prejudiced murmurs would lead him to believe.
Half an hour later, after all the classes were done and the gymnasts had left, Wes was at the front of the academy cleaning the windows in preparation for the Christmas decorations. The holidays were just around the corner and Allen liked decorating the academy for every occasion.
Rubbing and polishing the front glass looking out into the street with disinterested boredom, Wes suddenly caught sight of a hunched gray figure trudging through the snow that had just fallen that day. Immediately recognizing the hoodie even from across the street, Wes dropped his cloth without a thought and was out the door.
"Hey!" Wes called out into the windy air, only to be ignored as he hurried across the street. "Hey, you!"
"And I'm the crazy one for not wearing a coat." The self-assured voice tinted with a smirk was most definitely the one Wes had been looking for. "What do you want? I'm kind of in a hurry." The hooded teen kept walking away even as he spoke.
Ignoring the stranger's curtness and the shivers wracking his body as it was assaulted by the biting winds, Wes fell into step behind the other as he replied.
"Your name."
An abrupt halt in movement sent Wes running into a slight body that was deceptively hard for its size.
"And what would you do with something as trivial as that?" The voice had suddenly hardened and turned cold, taking Wes by surprise as he took a step back. As the hooded teen turned around to meet Wes' gaze head on with his steel gray, the cold seemed to seep further into Wes' body as he wrapped his arms protectively around himself.
"I just…want to know your name." Wes responded lamely. "You can't make friends unless you know their name."
Unwaveringly sharp eyes visibly weighed Wes' words for a long while, making the redhead shift uncomfortably as various parts of his body began to go numb from the cold. The smaller teen must have come to the decision to not kill him, for eyes started to soften as lips quirked up in a smirk that held no malice.
"And what makes you think that I need friends?" The stranger reached up to push his hood off, revealing tousled coal black locks and letting the waning sunlight hit his eyes to tinge the grayness that light icy blue that Wes had previously witnessed. Unraveling the thin black scarf from around a pale neck, the stranger then proceeded to step closer and wrap the warm material around Wes' bare neck, taking the teen completely by surprise. "Get inside before you turn blue, princess."
Turning around and continuing to walk, the strange teen that Wes had somehow found himself tangled up in was about to leave a gaping redhead in the middle of a snowy sidewalk in nothing but jeans, T-shirt, and scarf when he turned back around and began walking backwards.
"If you really want to know though, it's Gray." He called back, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket and smirk in full view as he hadn't put his hood back up yet.
As if realizing the irony of his own name, just as Wes now did, Gray let his head fall back with a laugh before turning into the enveloping darkness and disappearing from view.
Half an hour later, as Gray came upon the outer reaches of the maze, he was seriously reconsidering his snap second decision to voluntarily relinquish his scarf to an outside world priss. There was just something oddly genuine in the way that the redhead had talked to Gray both times they'd come into contact. Then again, it could have simply been naiveté. Either way, Gray never seemed to be able to hold onto his scarf for very long before he was driven to give it away and now he was thoroughly numb both inside and out.
As he began his trek through the darkened maze, Gray felt himself uncurling to stand as tall as his stature would allow with his shoulders back. No matter how cold it was, walking through the maze hunched in on one's self was just asking for trouble to happen. Usually, Gray could walk by gangs, dealers, and hustlers alike with minimal harassment, but he dared not to show any ounce of weakness just in case. The substances that were drunk and smoked by those in the maze did some crazy shit to people.
At least at this time of year there wasn't much of a chance of stumbling over naked bodies beaten and used by a number of undoubtedly diseased men. Even the gang members weren't willing to risk their junk to frostbite for gratification.
Walking at an even pace, Gray kept his hood up and eyes forward as glances of varying interest landed momentarily upon his body before sliding off in dismissal. As he walked by a group of squatting teens surrounding what appeared to be a stash of cocaine and a crude bonfire, Gray noticed that one of the taller ones looked very familiar.
"Jared." Gray's voice held no emotion as he walked right on by. His voice was barely acknowledged by the teen who was taking his turn at the white powder, and he had nothing else to do but keep walking. It seemed as if the maze had claimed the first of his younger siblings, and Gray knew that it'd be unlikely that he'd see Jared pass the age of twenty. Assuming, of course, that he himself managed to survive that long.
"He'll be fine." A voice Gray hadn't heard in over a year came from the shadows, making him start violently on the inside without showing any outward sign. Stopping in his tracks, Gray turned to glare at the figure whose features were impossible to pick out in the darkness. "I'll watch him." The slightly raspy voice assured, which only made Gray bristle in hated as fire in his veins banished all previous numbness.
"Just like you said you would before you left." Gray spat, watching in satisfaction as the figure stiffened as if struck.
"You're still bitter over that." The voice quietly noted as the figure stepped into the edges of the bonfire light. Dark eyes had even darker circles beneath them and Gray could see that the other man's pupils were larger than was normal. Cheeks had become shallow and a crisscrossing of new scars covered a face that Gray could no longer say he recognized.
"Of course I am. One day you just up and left without a word, how else am I supposed to feel?" Gray had known, even before Harper had left, that his big brother figure was helplessly addicted to the drugs that the maze held in abundance. Even so, he hadn't been prepared for the world to crash onto him the way it had when Harper left.
"I'm sorry." Harper apologized, the sincerity in his dark eyes taking Gray's hostile guard by surprise for a moment. The tenuous peace was broken when Harper caught sight of some of his fellow gang members closing in on the ring of fresh unclaimed meat and went to join them, his stakeout job having been completed apparently.
"Yeah, I'm sure you are." Gray kept his back to the two groups as he resolutely kept walking, never once turning back even as the paralyzing cold suddenly sought revenge on his short lived fire.
The cold always helped to numb the pain.
"You really are a natural at this." Wes noted with a smile as he moved slowly around the high bar, spotting the lithe form above him as it moved easily through the sequence that Wes had set. With one last powerful swing, Gray released the bar and managed a couple of twists before landing solidly on his feet.
"I would hope so, considering how much I did when I was younger." Gray rolled a kink out of his shoulder with a grin.
"You know, you still haven't told me how you learned to do the things that you can." Wes tried, once again, to get a glimpse into his friend's life.
Ever since the day Wes had run out into the street after Gray, he'd spent the next week or more grabbing Gray's attention whenever he was at the academy and Gray just happened to pass by. Eventually, Wes' pestering had worn down Gray's resistance and found the two of them spending more and more afternoons with each other.
Gray had, in the months that he'd started spending time with the persistent redhead genius, felt his guards start to drop around the easygoing older teen. The afternoons that Gray could get away with not being at home were starting to be looked forward to as Gray could feel a tentative friendship forming. Even so, there were still some things about Gray that Wes was better off not knowing, not matter how hard he pried.
"Nice try." Gray lightly shoved Wes' hip as he passed by on his way past the chalk.
"Aw, come on. I've told you everything about me." Wes pouted, following his friend to the balance beams.
Gray had hopped up onto the tallest beam and sat down sidesaddle so that he and Wes were facing each other nearly at eye level. Sensing a distracting sadness lurking in his friend's eyes, Wes stepped closer so that he could rest his hands on either side of Gray's hips.
"Hey, what's up?" Wes nudged at Gray's chin with his nose, causing the younger teen to snuffle a laugh at the redhead's blatant disregard for personal bubble space. At first it had unnerved Gray to no end, how incredibly touchy Wes was, but he'd finally learned to take it simply as another quirk that made Wes.
"Nothing that can be solved by worrying over it." Gray tried to deter his friend's concern, but instead seemed to increase it judging by the creasing in Wes' brow. Knowing that the older teen's silence spoke louder than any words could, Gray sighed before relenting. "I think Cassie has tuberculosis. She's been really sick for a few days and I've been researching at school to try and figure out what it is."
"That's awful." Wes breathed, feeling his heart clench for the sweet little girl that Gray had told him about. While most of Gray's life was kept secret from Wes, Gray had talked about his siblings to some extent. "Is there a hospital she can go to?"
Gray shook his head. "Not in the slums. The only hospitals in this city are outside our world, and I could never get Cassie through the maze without a gang taking her and killing me. I'd rather have her die in my arms than under their bodies." Gray's voice had hardened and his fists clenched.
Shocked that the gangs would take a sick girl and abuse her as they would a grown woman, Wes pushed past that to focus on his friend. Placing a hand over whitened knuckles, Wes waited until flashing steel eyes met his before wrapping Gray in a hug. The initial stiff unresponsiveness of Gray's body did nothing but cause Wes to tighten his hold until the tension left and Gray slowly started to hug back.
The two stayed in their embrace unmoving for several long minutes, letting a sad yet comfortable silence envelop them. Wes was never good with the whole comforting distraught friends thing, he'd always been considered too much of a smart freak to actually have friends, but the subtle snuggling that Gray was bestowing upon his shoulder made him believe that he wasn't doing it completely wrong.
"You have no idea how much you really don't want to know about where I'm from, how lucky you are to not know." Gray's voice was unnaturally shaky, giving Wes the sinking feeling that his friend was close to tears. How much sleep had Gray lost over worrying about Cassie? He hardly got enough sleep as it was.
Raising his head from Gray's shoulder so that his lips were brushed against a warm ear, Wes inhaled the clean scent of fresh rain that somehow always clung to Gray's being and felt each and every shiver that ran through Gray's body at their nearness. It was surprising, yet not, how attached and protective Wes was becoming to the younger teen.
"It's part of who you are, how can I not want to know?"
This was a bad idea. This was such a bad idea, but how could he say no to sincere words and pleading eyes?
Gray raked his eyes critically over Wes' body clad in what he claimed to be his oldest and rattiest attire. With a dry, disheartening thought, Gray noted that Wes' getup had probably still cost him more money than Gray himself would ever see at one time in his entire life. He supposed it would have to do. With any luck, this whole poorly conceived plan wouldn't kill them. Unfortunately, once voiced and jumped upon by an overexcited redhead, the plan was kind of hard to take back.
"Come on then." Gray sighed, wondering what he'd gotten himself into. "Just remember to keep your mouth shut and stick close to me." Pushing open the academy door, Gray led the way out into the sunlit air.
The harsh winter was just beginning to give way to a sleepily rousing spring, warming the air enough that Gray no longer had nightmares about his skin cracking off his body until he was nothing but a puddle of blood. The outside world was full of reawakening life and the air was permeated with the sweet smell of hopeful promise, whereas the slums were as gloomy and depressing as always, seemingly only touchable by the extreme cold of winter and unbearable heat of summer. It seemed as if the only things able to penetrate the smog of the slums were lethal to its already debilitated inhabitants.
Meandering easily down the street following his normal route, Gray's thoughts were occupied with wonderings of how Wes would react to a world that was very different from the one he was used to. Regardless of how open and unlike his haughty peers Wes was, the slums would undoubtedly shock him to some degree and make him wonder to some extent why he'd ever become involved with Gray.
Sighing in melancholy self-deprecation, Gray glanced to his side to see Wes happily keeping step with him, reminding the slummer of an eager puppy excited for a walk. The comparison was quite apt. No matter how many reasons and protests of warning Gray had put forth, Wes had been adamant that learning about Gray's world wouldn't change anything between them. Gray had a fierce, silent hope that Wes' words were true.
As the two reached the edge of the line dividing their two worlds, Gray felt rather than saw Wes stop in his tracks as he caught his first sight of the maze. Towering and foreboding, the maze was understandably intimidating even without the shady reputation it had. Turning to his friend to offer an out, Gray as pleasantly surprised at the unconcerned grin that he was met with.
"After you." Wes gestured for him to continue walking.
Knowing that any voiced thoughts would sound awkwardly out of place, Gray simply nodded and led the way into darkness. It was late morning, but even so the bright light that warmed the outside world somehow couldn't reach the cold darkness of the maze. Without needing to turn around and look, Gray could tell that Wes was right behind him, eyes wide and roving around the heavily graffiti covered brick walls.
"Different gangs have territorial rights over different sections of the maze, but most never last long. Drunken and drug induced gang violence makes it a small miracle if a gang lasts more than two weeks. Watch your step." Gray said cheerfully as he sidestepped a pool of what looked and smelled like blood filled vomit.
"It's amazing how the city has turned such a blind eye to what's going on to half of its citizens." Wes' voice was filled with quiet horror filled anger.
"Ain't it somethin' that us poor kids don't get nothin'?" A derisive voice from the shadows instantly triggered Gray's reflexes as he grabbed Wes by the front of his shirt and shoved the older teen behind him so that Wes had a wall to his back and Gray in front between him and a group of rough looking boys. The switchblade that Wes had first seen when it had been against his throat was in Gray's hand as he faced down the gang who had stayed around past the normal time for the maze to be inhabited.
"What'cha got there, Gray? A rich little boy toy?" Wes did not like the leer that the scarred, sunken skinned boy who'd previously spoken was giving him.
Wes could feel the low growl that reverberated through Gray's chest, as his friend had been very subtle in backing up so that they were now nearly pressed against each other. Seeing the fighting stance that Gray had fallen into, Wes seriously hoped that it wouldn't come to that. There were six of them and one Gray, and although none of the other boys looked like they had the luxury of good nutrition Gray was still a tiny slip of a sixteen year old.
"And here I thought that you pathetic lowlifes had learned your lesson about crossing territories." A new voice piped up, causing Gray's hand that was holding his knife to twitch in preparation.
Wes watched as a thin man, just a couple of years older than himself it seemed, somehow appeared from the shadows to Gray and Wes' left to stare down the suddenly terrified younger boys. The man's red hair was shaggily unkempt and seemed almost faded in color, his skin a sickly pale with his high cheekbones painfully noticeable. By the way that Gray let his body relax by a minute modicum, Wes took a guess that this man must be Harper.
Wordlessly, Gray flipped his blade closed with a deft flick and began walking off deeper into the maze, hands nestled in his hoodie pocket. No doubt in Wes' mind that Gray's hands were still wrapped around the knife, ready to lodge it into the throat of the next person to jump at them. Glancing one last time at the stand off between two different gangs' members, Wes hastened to keep in step behind Gray.
"This is where you learned gymnastics?" Wes' voice was disbelieving as he stood outside of a large deflated tent that at one time might've been striped red and white but was now a dirty rust color.
As Gray had led Wes through the eerie stillness of the slum streets, the older teen had not said a word as he slowly took in the immense poverty and disgusting living conditions. The air was so polluted once the maze was left behind that it felt like it was sticking in Wes' lungs like some kind of cloying tar. With all of the unimaginable images Wes had witnessed in the past twenty minutes of walking to the edge of the slums, it was their surprising destination that got him speaking.
"Haly's circus, closed years ago due to some freak accident where a whole family of trapeze artists died. It's been abandoned forever and as far as I know I'm the only one who uses it." Gray was searching along the side of the tent with his hands, apparently looking for the entry flap. "Then again, I wouldn't put it past urchins to crawl under here on a stormy night." Gray mumbled offhandedly as his fingers caught hold of something.
Eyes lit up, Gray let a grin appear on his face as he pulled open the flap with a flourish that caused a cloud of dust to erupt around them. Struggling through a coughing fit, Wes allowed an exasperated Gray to usher him into the abandoned big top.
Inside showed even more evidence of the big top's neglect. Old equipment was mostly broken in several places and sitting lopsided where they'd fallen, advantageous weeds were spreading wildly across the parched dirt floor, and the air was heavy with the musty smell of a place that hadn't seen daylight in far too long. The content smile on Gray's face as he slowly moved around the area told Wes that for as much of a mess that the dilapidated tent seemed to him, for Gray it must have held some fond memories.
"I was fearless when I first found this place." Gray was saying as he ran a gentle hand over a fallen down trapeze swing. "Everything was a wreck, but I somehow put it all together enough to use it. I'm probably lucky that I didn't break a few bones doing what I did, and you can hardly tell that at one point I had this place looking decent." Gray laughed, circling the area once more before coming to stand beside Wes in the center ring.
"It's amazing." Wes finally said after long moments of Gray looking at him expectantly. Tearing his eyes away from the graveyard of what once must have been a spectacular place, Wes instead locked gazes with smiling gray. "You're amazing."
A confused look twisted Gray's features and caused Wes to laugh out and shake his head in sheer disbelief.
"You…you're so determined to make yourself something better. You don't just lie back and take the shit life gives you. I…I really admire that about you." Wes turned so that he was facing his friend, awe clearly written across his face.
"Sap." Gray scoffed, turning away to break eye contact, but not before Wes caught the shy smile and light blush. "So, yeah. This is where it all started for me." Gray nodded to the empty space around the two before gathering himself enough to turn back to Wes.
The soft, unguarded look that had momentarily been in Gray's eyes stole the breath right from Wes' chest. Before Wes could say anything, however, a dull roaring from overhead turned his attention upwards.
"Airplane." Gray noted the puzzled expression on the redhead's face. "They fly by overhead every now and then, can't see them through the smog though. Sometimes you can catch glimpses of blinking lights." Gray fell silent, his arms coming up to cross protectively over his slim chest.
Bringing his head back down, Wes could instantly tell that Gray was closing himself off for some reason as he stared unseeingly up a the very center of the tent. Moving forward, slowly so as to not startle Gray into attacking him, Wes placed a hand on a stiffened elbow in silent comfort. He dared not to offer any more contact until he was sure Gray was okay.
"I used to imagine the lights of the planes traveling across the sky to be shooting stars. I would make a wish every time I heard one fly by." Gray whispered, seemingly snapping himself out of whatever trance he'd been in as his chin tilted downward in embarrassed shame. "Stupid, I know."
"Never." Wes breathed, forgetting about his conscious effort to give Gray space as he pressed their bodies flush against each other as he folded the smaller body into a fierce hug.
A quiet gasp and sudden splash of hot tears on Wes' neck only made him hold on tighter as he reached up to thread his fingers through soft black locks. Gently coaxing Gray's head to his shoulder, Wes wondered how this had come about.
The dark, haunted eyes of a naked emaciated slum girl kneeling in a ditch scavenging for food had shaken Wes to the core. But it was the muffled sounds of his best friend crying that would be haunting his dreams.
The streets were rapidly darkening the next time Gray led Wes down the grimy, crumbling sidewalks. After Gray had calmed down from his sudden tears and given a shaky, wholly unneeded apology, the two teens had sat in the dirt for hours talking about life.
Wes had talked at length about his parents and childhood of being shuffled from nanny to nanny, a topic that had always been sensitive in the past when anyone tried to bring it up. Gray had listened with quiet attention, soaking in the loneliness and abuse that his friend had suffered in a way that wasn't so different from his own. It saddened the slummer that someone so bright and kind, who had been born to a world full of light and opportunity, had also suffered as a lowlife like him had.
In return for Wes opening up about himself, Gray had told the other everything he'd been keeping hidden. Gray told of how it'd been storming so violently on the night that he'd been abandoned that the cardboard box he was placed in nearly filled with water to drown him. Even now, Gray had an unnaturally violent aversion to large bodies of water.
Gray had been five the first time he'd gotten on the wrong side of the wrong people. Wes watching wide-eyed as Gray lifted his clothing to reveal the long pale scar down his side where the knife had cut while he'd been held down. When Gray was ten, Harper had him try some funny smelling powder rolled up in a neat little stick. The fumes coupled with the sickening taste had made Gray heave up the entirety of his stomach's contents. Gray had never touched a drug after that incident.
The stories that Gray told seemed to be endless and varied in their degrees of startling, horrifying, and sad humor. Some time during the hours that they spent safely ensconced beneath the tent, Wes' fingers had gently opened Gray's lightly curled hand to intertwine with his. Noticing that his best friend was holding his hand like a shy teenaged girl, Gray merely smirked before continuing on in his retelling of his life.
As the two friends walked one behind the other, Wes reflected on how adamant Gray had been in keeping what he'd just shared hidden for so long. Had Gray feared that his past would drive Wes away? Or did he think that Wes would somehow look at him differently now? If anything, Wes felt closer and even more attached to the quietly strong teen walking in front of him, hand reached back so that it could still hold onto Wes'.
Because they had taken so long at Haly's, the rapidly falling night signaled that the maze would have to wait until morning. With this realization, Gray had hesitatingly stated that Wes would just have to stay the night at Sunny Side. Wes had been warned about the lack of heat, rattling pipes, questionable sanitation, and wailing banshee of a caretaker, but he had simply nudged Gray in the back to get him to lead.
The orphanage looked ready to fall apart, in Wes' wincing opinion. Roof tiles were missing in patches, which must cause water leakages on rainy days. Windows were smashed and clumsily boarded up as vicious looking weeds spread across the yard and appeared to be slowly wearing away the house's foundation. The sign was barely legible anymore and was more of a random piece of debris than anything, and as Gray gave the front door a light kick to get it open Wes could have sworn that the loud groan spelled the end for the house.
"Home sweet home." Gray grinned brightly at the horrorstruck expression on Wes' face.
Moving into the house, Gray peeked his head into the small, cluttered living room to see who was still awake. Terry was alone in front of the muted television, a fitfully sleeping Cassie tossing in his lap. Glancing up at Gray's appearance, Terry wordlessly lifted the girl from his lap and held her out, eyes instantly reverting back to the television.
"Her fever's worse. Freida was going to call for a doctor but then realized that we're dirt poor and no one actually cares about us. I told her a bedtime story and gave her tea for the cough." Terry's voice was unemotionally detached as Gray took the sleeping girl from him, pausing to ruffle Terry's hair in thanks. Catching sight of Wes in the doorway from the corner of his eye, Terry inclined his chin towards the stranger. "Boyfriend?"
"Yeah." Gray replied absently as he secured Cassie in his hold, completely missing the raised eyebrows from both Terry and Wes.
"Um, I wasn't informed of this." Wes followed Gray up the rickety stairs very slowly, eyes watching Gray's every step since the other teen seemed to know where not to step.
"Sometimes it's easier to agree than to try and explain." Gray shrugged as he walked down a narrow wood floored hallway that creaked tiredly with every step.
The single naked bulb hanging by a chain and wire swung lazily back and forth, casting a macabre of shadows across Gray's back as he paused in front of a plain door and pulled a key from his pocket. Sliding into the lock with a dull chink, the key elicited quiet moaning from the other side of the door that caused Wes to subconsciously move to put Gray between himself and the door.
"Just Freida. She's only a danger to herself once I lock her in." Gray assured as he turned the old iron key before removing it and walking along with Cassie still snug on his shoulder. The sight of the small teen carrying an even smaller girl who had her hand curled trustingly into the thin material of gray hoodie made something in Wes twinge.
They passed half a dozen rooms that had light snoring coming from them before Gray pushed open another plain door and walked in. Peeking in behind Gray, Wes could see that the tiny room painted in pale faded pink was already occupied by two other sleeping girls.
Gray walked over to a small twin mattress lying on the floor under a tangle of blankets and carefully lay Cassie down before tucking her in. The little girl fidgeted in her sleep as she was taken away from Gray's warmth, but a gentle hand smoothing back sweaty blonde bangs settled her down.
Standing in the doorway witnessing the naked pain in Gray's eyes as he sat on the edge of Cassie's mattress made Wes physically hurt. Gray had been through so much pain already in his short life, and yet he still opened himself up to even more heartache by allowing himself to love the doomed children of Sunny Side. Gray eyes looked up in time to see a lone tear slide down Wes' silhouetted figure.
With a sad smile, Gray stood from the mattress and walked towards Wes. Bracing his hands on slim, sturdy hips, Gray reached up on his tip-toes and kissed the tear away before it could fall into the darkness.
"Don't worry about us." Gray whispered, lips a breath away from Wes' skin. "Death for us means nothing but freedom."
The sad, defeated look in stormy eyes the color of quicksilver was the last thing Wes ever wanted to see. Determined to make it disappear, Wes took Gray's face in hand and pressed a hard, needy kiss to surprisingly pliant lips. It took Gray all of two shocked seconds before he began kissing back, fingers tightening on Wes' hips possessively.
Pushing the two of them backwards into the hallway, Gray released one hand from Wes' body to close the door behind him and reach around to open the door directly across the hall. Wes was so lost in battling tongues and nipping teeth bruising his lips that he didn't notice the bed until the back of his knees made contact and he went toppling backwards, Gray still firmly attached to his lips.
The room was dark and, as Gray had warned, cold, but the rapidly heating body pressed on top of him was more than enough to keep Wes warm. A needy moan clawed its way up Wes' throat as he wrapped his arms around the lithe body pressed into him. A quick nip and audible wet smack later and Wes was looking up into Gray's shadowed eyes, his breaths coming in short pants.
"Something wrong?" Wes asked, still a bit breathless from the assault on his lips. Gray let out a short laugh as he shook his head, eyes soft as he reached up to stroke his fingertips along Wes' cheek.
"I'm just half afraid that if I allow myself to believe this is happening I'll wake up." Gray confessed, his cheeks warm from a blush that Wes couldn't see.
"I'm not going anywhere." Wes promised, lacing his fingers with Gray's to pull the other's hand close enough to kiss.
Swallowing the suddenly formed lump in his throat, Gray nodded once before reaching up and shedding his hoodie, revealing the scarred pale skin of his entire torso to Wes for the first time. Laying back down, Gray reattached their lips as he kept his one hand in Wes' and let the other roam up the silky smooth skin of Wes' abdomen.
With on hand held captive against the bed above his head and the other firmly tangled in dark disheveled locks, Wes allowed his mouth to be utterly dominated as a sure hand kneaded and glided its way up towards his chest, hiking his shirt up in the process. Wes had fooled around before, but never had he ever felt the searing need flooding his body as it did with every move Gray made. If his mind wasn't so far gone he'd probably have the sense to be embarrassed by the needy sounds he was making as his body arched shamelessly up into Gray's every touch.
As Gray became bolder and began to roll his hips into Wes', the ominous air about the house was suddenly not that scary anymore. Wrapped up in each other, it was almost as if nothing could hurt them.
Wes was sat under a large oak tree, happily bathing in the warm afternoon sun with a sleepy boyfriend lying beside him with their legs overlapping. In the past week since Wes' first journey to the slums and their night together the two of them stole whatever moments they could to be together. Usually it was after Gray was done with school and Wes didn't have work that the two of them would spend time under the same tree in Mahtog Park.
Even though Gray was the happiest he could ever remember being, the constant thoughts of Cassie's quickly declining health always loomed close by to dampen his mood. Gray would never be able to express how much Wes' understanding meant to him, as Wes seemed to just know when Gray needed silent companionship rather than words.
Blinking sleepily into a sun that he seldom saw, Gray reached blindly up and was happy to feel Wes' hand meet him halfway even as eyes of the most vibrant shade of green that Gray had ever seen never opened from their lazy rest. Letting his fingers play lightly over the hand that held his, Gray wondered if this feeling was what people called love.
"Gray!" The sharp, anxious call instantly dissipated any good feelings as both teens shot up from their lazy positions to look towards the rapidly approaching man.
"Harper?" Gray looked beyond shocked at seeing the man outside of the maze. With the torn, dirty appearance that Harper had it was a small wonder that he had made it to the park without getting the cops called on him.
"They know about Cassie." The deadly serious tone made it very obvious who 'they' were. Gray was instantly on his feet even as Harper grabbed hold of his shoulders to keep him from running off. "Gray, the second you set foot in that maze they will kill you."
Now Wes was on his feet as well, his arms wrapping themselves protectively around Gray's shaking frame as the younger teen's eyes stared right through the man in front of him.
"Cassie's not long for this world, and you know it. You will gain nothing by going back and getting yourself killed. You've already escaped, why would you go back?" Harper tried to reason with the stubborn teen he'd known and protected for years, even after Gray had thought he'd turned his back on him.
Judging by the hard set of Gray's jaw and the blazing fire in his eyes, nothing Harper said was going to get through to him.
"Gray, maybe he's right-" Wes tried, but was cut off by a harsh growl that was equal parts pain and anger. There was a long, long silence filled with nothing but Gray's harsh breaths as both Harper and Wes silently willed him to think rationally.
"I'm not deserting her or any of the others. I refuse to. I've been left so many times and I will not make her feel that as she's dying." Gray's voice was shaky but determined when his lips finally parted. Almost reluctantly, he gently removed Wes' arms from around him, holding on for a second longer than necessary.
"I'm sorry."
And with that Gray suddenly tore off towards the maze at a speed that astounded both men left behind.
"Fucking hell. The damn kid is going to kill me before the drugs do." Harper rasped as he took off after Gray, Wes right on his heels a startled second later.
They couldn't have been more than five minutes behind Gray, but as they came upon the entrance to the maze it was evident that Gray had met a fight when he arrived. Splashes of blood oozed sluggishly down the dirty brick walls as Harper and Wes rushed by, slipping occasionally in pools on unknown liquids.
Jumping over an unconscious body after Harper, Wes recognized the hilt of the knife sticking out of the man's neck. Wes could only hope that Gray had more of them. More dead bodies and pools of blood ensued, serving as the only evidence of the struggle that was holding up Gray's mad dash to get to Cassie.
Wes nearly slammed into Harper when the man suddenly stopped, eyes staring at the torn gray hoodie hanging from the wall by a jagged dagger. The destroyed hoodie was soaked in blood and Wes barely had time to pray that it wasn't Gray's before Harper began running again, sharp labored breaths echoing through the empty maze.
An endless plea for Gray's safety was running through Wes' head as he followed Harper, hoping against hope that Gray wouldn't be taken from him right after he'd finally found him. A deceptively hard body felt like a brick wall as Wes actually did slam into Harper, although the man's reason for stopping this time was obviously more dangerous judging by the tension in his body.
"Wes, run." Harper ordered under his breath, hard eyes never leaving the loosely grouped gang they'd run into who was now bearing down on them. "No matter what, keep running and find Gray."
Wes had just enough wits left to process Harper's words before blades were suddenly clashing and blood was spurting from wounds. Darting forward past Harper, Wes once again cursed his height as he tried to dodge through the gang members without losing any vital organs or limbs. Scraping his body up against the rough brick in an attempt to distance himself from the bloodshed, Wes turned to find himself blocked in by what seemed to be a wall of man meat.
This was madness, Wes suddenly realized as Harper slammed the man who was easily twice his size away from him. A mere few months ago and the thought of putting his life at risk for a slummer with gray eyes would have made Wes laugh. He had everything he needed in life: smarts, a promising career, money, and a loving uncle. Why would he want to mess that up?
Gray. Gray was the one thing Wes hadn't known he was missing until he found him, and he'd be damned if he let himself be content with what he had before. With that resolve in mind, Wes gritted his teeth and shoved on.
Finally escaping the fray with nothing worse than a few gashes and nicks, Wes set off at a dead run to get out of the maze as fast as he could. Had Gray made it to Sunny Side already? Or had he become too injured? Questions and worst case scenarios kept flashing through Wes' mind as he finally entered the slums and continued running after a trail of blood that he'd noticed a while back leading away from where the gang ambushed him and Harper.
As Wes followed the trail that was thicker in places and pooled in others, his eyes were frantically scanning for any sign of Gray. If only Gray didn't have this fierce need to protect those he left behind, none of this would be happening. But then again, Gray wouldn't be Gray if he didn't stupidly jump into a forewarned trap if it meant he wouldn't leave someone behind.
God, Wes loved him. Now all he had to do was find him and tell him after yelling at him for being an idiot.
The trail of blood, Wes noticed, was not leading him towards Sunny Side, but Haly's. This worried his already overactive mind even further, but he pushed his tired body on as the old tent came into view against the gray skies.
Wes stopped short as all of the remaining breath he had in him was pulled violently away by the sight that greeted him. Propped up against the tent was an exhausted looking Gray, his bloodied hands pressed weakly against his torn shoulder and gouged chest. The gray hoodie had been torn off to leave a white shirt that was now splotched with bright red that was slowly spreading.
Color. It was too much color. Wes couldn't stand to see so much color on a person who had always been nothing but gray. Color meant that Gray was going to die.
Falling to his knees in front of his boyfriend, Wes didn't know what to do other than press his own hands over Gray's with a strangled cry of helplessness.
"Yeah, I was stupid." Gray's voice was tired as he opened his eyes to look at Wes, the storms having been chased from their gray depths. "I'm sorry."
"Stop saying that." Wes pleaded, knowing deep down that there was no way Gray could make it without medical attention in the state that he was in, medical attention that had never and would never exist in the slums.
"Then I'll say thank you, for everything you've given me. You make me happy. I've never been happy before." Gray smiled, sad and at the same time not. "I never thought that someone like me would ever be lucky enough to love someone like you."
The last of Wes' resolve crumbled as he grabbed Gray into his arms, tears for what would never be falling from both of their eyes. This wasn't how the story was supposed to end, but for them it would.
A dull roar from above pulled Gray's attention upwards for a moment, his blood now soaking through both his and Wes' shirts. Closing his eyes, Gray could almost imagine the unseen airplane to be a hot ball of gas light years away that was dying in the most beautiful way possible.
"I wish I had longer to love you."
I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now.
"Wally, come on!" Dick laughed excitedly in that cackling manner that he had as he waited for his boyfriend to catch up.
Wheezing a little as he struggled up the last stretch of hiking trail, Wally wondered what kind of nut he was to be dating someone who insisted on going for a nighttime hike days after they'd been discharged from the hospital. They'd both suffered from multiple broken bones and internal damage after the amazon fiasco, and for a while there Dick had even been stuck in a coma as he tried to heal.
It had been hands down the worst two weeks of Wally's life as he lay in a hospital bed too broken to move while Dick lay in a coma beside him. The doctors had said that they were both very lucky, and that Robin distracting him had probably saved his life because he hadn't been facing the wall of water that had crushed them.
Although he loved his boyfriend more than anything else and would be forever thankful for the day that Dick had finally opened his eyes again as Wally held him, Wally would never understand why hiking was apparently the first thing Dick wanted to do after getting out of the hospital. Dick may have saved Wally's life just to kill him with this climb up a freaking mountain.
"Stop bitching in your head, I can practically hear you." Dick grabbed Wally's hand once the huffing redhead was close enough and led him towards the grassy plateau.
"Why the hell did we come up here in the middle of the night?" Wally demanded as he fell into an ungraceful heap on the grass, pulling Dick down with him by their joined hands.
Laughing again at his boyfriend's obvious displeasure, Dick sidled himself into Wally's lap so that he was straddling the older teen's hips in a very suggestive manner. Leaning forward so that he could pepper his next words with kisses pressed against Wally's lips, Dick decided to explain his madness.
"This peak" kiss "just happens" kiss "to be" kiss "the best spot" kiss "to see shooting stars."
Enjoying the warm kisses bestowed upon him, Wally still frowned in confusion at Dick's words.
"Shooting stars?"
"Yep." Dick nodded and turned to point up to the clear black sky littered with thousands of bright lights. "Watch."
The two sat in silence as they watched the sky, Wally's thumbs tracing soothing circles on Dick's thighs that were still on either side of him. For the longest while nothing happened as the two teens snuggled together and patiently waited.
Then, as if on a whim, one of the dots in the sky started to stream down towards the horizon, leaving a brilliant white trail behind it. Not long after the first star fell several more followed, falling one after the other as if meticulously choreographed.
Holding Dick close to him, close enough to feel every breath enter and leave his body, Wally watched in quiet wonder as the sky's gems appeared to be falling to Earth. It was the second most beautiful sight Wally had ever been privileged to, the first being the man currently wrapped in his arms.
"Did you make a wish?" Wally whispered into Dick's ear.
Dick turned around with the twinkling of the stars in his ocean blue eyes and the softest of smiles on his lips.
"What could I possibly wish for?"