Contains dark themes and slash. Um written a while ago so I don't really remember how it came around. I think I wanted to explore Dennis' past.
For The Dark
The dreams always started the same way
The dreams always started the same way. Just as the slivery strands of the wakening world snap and drop him into the perpetual darkness. All he can do is wait for them to come.
Running was never an option. If he runs they would always catch him and punish him that little bit more. No, he would be a good boy, sitting quietly till its time again. He should be scared, or at least that seemed logical but this was the way his life worked, it was normality. Normal is never scary.
Instead he plays silent games. His voice never works in this place so his learnt not to try. He is a good boy; at least he tries to be. Betting himself whose turn it will be this time. There were so many of them that if there was a pattern to their appearances he could not work it out.
Not that he would try. Thinking was impossible when he could not even feel his own body. He existed because he is here but his not. There is no flesh, bone and blood but they still see him so he must exist.
He was part of the thick blackness, numb, a ghost of a boy.
It was Mummy's turn tonight. That surprised him; he had guessed it would be a man, maybe one of her boyfriends.
He was motionless as she approached. Perfect, maybe Mummy would be please with him…
She stumbled forward arms raised in a clumsy parody of a trapeze artist. Her motivation kept her going. He saw it in the way she stared, eyes nearly all black iris with intensity.
She looked just like she did when he had last seen her in that other world where he had a body. Tracksuit too big and hanging from sharp hipbones, he could not remember ever seeing her eat, only alcohol past her lips. Sleeves hang over her powerful hands. The cuffs were covered with the most stains now yellow rather than grey. Hair was unkempt and fell stiffly in greasy waves. Just like he remembered…
"How could I ever love you?"
The voice did not come from her lips, it never did. Instead the words were everywhere, rolling and echoing like a tempest.
"How could I ever love a thing like you?"
Words were like blows of a fist. It was an odd pain that made his bones ache. He must of done something very naught to be punished with words. How he preferred a heavy fist and the numbness that came when he blacked out. He did not have that luxury with words.
"You have his eyes. They are just the same trying to hurt me."
Eyes closed, he should have remembered, always eyes closed. But it had been such a long time since Mummy had last come to him he had forgot how to be a perfectly good boy.
"But I wont let you. He…you made me hurt once so now I'll show you what it feels like."
And he knew he wanted to tell her so badly that he knew and he was sorry. But Mummy never thought it was enough.
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"Shouldn't you be tucked up in bed?"
He did not look up knowing full well whom the sarcastic taught was from. Instead he shrugged idly watching as expensive looking leather shoes came into his line of view.
"Sulking again Dennis," He spoke with cruel humour clucking his tongue loudly, "What is it this time? Had words with Phil? No that's not it, Sharon stopped your allowance again didn't she?"
Moving for the first time so fast he felt dizzy but anger driving him he lashed out with a sloppy punch. He had never been able to hurt with words like had been used on him so he settled with violence.
"Fuck you Andy." He spit turning away from the well-groomed man as he nursed his split lip.
Andy chuckled loudly clearly not phased by the violence; it was nothing he hadn't seen before. "You still haven't changed. Still caught in that brooding bad boy routine. Tell me does it really work that well with the ladies?"
Clenching his fists he told himself not to react. The muscles in his jaw twitched with consecration.
Throwing his hands up with mock exasperation Andy watched him with a small smile on his lips.
"Do we have to go through this when we both know what you want? Quiet frankly it lost its appeal after the first time. Its just irritating now."
He would not react, would not give Andy the satisfaction.
With a sigh Andy reached out for the other man's chin turning it so they were face to face.
"I hate you." He spat at Andy their eyes locked but still he did not want to lose the skin-to-skin contact. It was strangely comforting and ever so real, in the hear and now. Reminding him that the dark little world was gone for now.
"I know," Andy leered, "But you can't keep away."
With that lips met clumsily in a fight for domination as the rest of the world melted away.