Disclaimer: The Christa and her crew do not belong to me; they belong to Nickelodeon (but do you know, those blokes never played with them properly?), and to Peter David and Bill Mumy (who most certainly did); and I'm not certain, but I think the actors are meant to have some claim on the characters. (I'd just like to take this moment to assert that the actors are all fabulous people whom I deeply admire.) No disrespect is meant by this immense, self-indulgent waste of my time; it is intended only for personal enjoyment. I'm certainly not getting paid for it - who on earth would pay me to write fanfic? - and no one ought to sue me; I need this last dollar-fifty to do my bloody laundry.

Rating: +/- R

Warnings: SLASH! - with nasty, big, pointy teeth. All right, so no pointy teeth - but guys attracted to each other and not the Leading Ladies. Not your bag? Piss off, then. You've got a Back Button; use it. Angst. Language. Adult Themes. Second season? What second season? Suzee intends to remain happily invisible in this universe.

Spoilers: Most, if not all, of Season 1.

Pairing: Harlan/Radu

Category: Angst, Romance

Summary: Um. Harlan digs Radu, but isn't handling it well.

A/N: I've been trying to get back into this fic ever since I came back to school this semester; I'd left the relevant materials at my parents' house. I'm going to do the best I can with what I've brought with me since Thanksgiving, but I don't rightly remember what my plan had been, so if the fic seems a bit erratic, put it down to that. Should be all right, though. Oh! This ickle bit of a prologue is set pre-series, but I'm pretty sure the rest will be during.




Prologue: Break Down

It was the only way he'd known how to deal with it at the time.

All of it - the glares, the hatred, the unspeakably cruel remarks - it had all come from fear. He hadn't understood it; but then, he didn't spend a lot of time on trying to understand things. He had just lashed out, almost without warning, until it became a pattern. Bait. Bait. Lunge.

Like fencing, only - just offense. Never defense.

Why wasn't there any defense?

Doesn't he hate me too?

Slash. Thrust. Never parry.

Perhaps it was this lack of resistance that finally wore him down, made him snap. Perhaps not. In the end it didn't matter what had caused it; there he was, breaking his fists with trying to evoke some reaction. Cracking the slim bones against the body before him, trying to hurt. Knowing it was fruitless.

Why can't I fucking break him?

Frustration. Blood. Pain.

"I'm sorry."

What? How could he be sorry? Sorry for being what he was. Harlan hadn't understood it at the time - hadn't realised that maybe, just maybe, he could break him after all, that maybe it was a different kind of pain he'd been inflicting. But then, he didn't spend a lot of time on trying to understand things.

He had been shocked out of his rage, and he had just run.

It hadn't changed anything. But somehow, everything had changed.