A Choir Robe and Nightmares, a lord of the flies fanfic

Title: A Choir Robe and Nightmares

Author: Seer M. Anno

Fandom: Lord of the Flies

Pairing: slight Ralph/Jack Merridew

Genre: AU, Light Slash

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this fandom except the story below. Please don't sue.

Rating: PG-15

Warnings: Child abuse. Language. Probably a bit OOC.

Summary: Ralph is a failure. And Jack has his choir robe.

A/N: My first LOTF fic! When I wrote this, I still haven't found the book. Jack x Ralph is my OTP in here. Ralph here is a blond James Aubrey (no offense, sir!), and Piggy's accent refers to the 1963 movie (No offense since I like his accent. It's funny and now I keep saying things like 'Hi, wait for me. I can hardly move with these all creeper things' :D). The island is my pure imagination. And has someone been wondering what happened with those black cloaks of the choirboys'? This is unbeta'd, sorry! But anyways, enjoy! ^_^

A Choir Robe and Nightmares

Jack x Ralph, Lord of the Flies

Seer M. Anno

Ralph wondered how he was supposed to feel.

When he arrived on this island, he had been over the moon. Freedom was the first thing he felt. Being here without those grownups who ruled him everywhere seemed great. That is, if he weren't chief. If he were a follower, he would agree with no rules.

But a loud, childish voice stopped his train of hope.

"Yeah, him with the shell!"

Another voice.

"Let him be chief!"

Ralph's breath hitched. He blinked and stared at the group. Those were only a bunch of little boys, probably younger than ten. He couldn't disappoint them. Trying not to look at the cloaked group huddled on the background he managed to say, "Well... who wants me?"

Hands were raised, and his heart sank when he realised they were more than the hands raised for Jack earlier.

No wonder, Ralph, his mind told him. The choirboys aren't as many as these little kids.

After spared a glance at Piggy, Ralph chose his words carefully. "I'll chief then."

Responsible was the second thing he felt. He looked around the boys, and his stare settled a while on Jack Merridew's cloaked back, and realised that the rules had to be applied after all. He couldn't imagine living without rules if he was their leader. Living under rules and corporal punishments took away that feeling of freedom Ralph had just felt.

Maybe Jack could help him make those rules? He was a natural leader after all, being that chapter something and head boy. And maybe his ability of singing C sharp could help too, since the redhead had said that before.

He stared blankly at Jack who ordered his choir—now hunters—to take off their togs. One of the boys commented about their robes and Jack said something about uniforms, but Ralph paid them no heed.

He looked around once again, feeling that the assembly was starting to get out of control. The littleuns were chattering, the choirboys were talking to themselves, and Ralph felt the usual grip of fear started to overcome him. Voices that wasn't his own, and ones that was, filled his mind at once.

You can't control anything. You're a total failure.

I can't control this. I can't control anything. I can't.

I can't.

And then Jack stabbed his knife to a tree and the noise ceased. Ralph stifled a gasp of surprise and sent a quick, grateful nod to the redhead, which he wasn't sure Jack saw. Jack merely spared him a glance, but Ralph took his gesture as his chance to speak.

So he did.

"Alright, if this is an island..."

When the night came, Ralph walked out the newly-made and still battered shelter. It was too crowded, with Piggy as the waste of space, the twins who completed each other's words even in their sleep, some littleuns who tossed and turned, and Simon muttering words that nobody would understand. Ralph wondered why he didn't sleep with the other choirboys.

The choirboys' shelter.

He wanted to go there, especially because he, Jack, and two of the choirboys named Roger and Maurice had built two larger shelters than this. But he knew he couldn't wake them. If he woke them up, they probably would be angry.

He stopped walking and closed his eyes. He didn't want them to be angry at him. He knew what he would get if he made them angry.

Ralph sat on the sand, his hand tracing his shoulder. He winced.

Bloody hell.

Ralph could still feel Ross' painful fist, even when he didn't hit him. His brothers never saw him as a person. Ralph, a scrawny boy with funny teeth, was their punching bag. They even beat him before he went off this rescuing, and Devon blamed him for being rescued and they were not.

His oldest brother never missed a chance to humiliate and blame him. Ralph hated his father, who always saw Devon as a perfect angel. Ralph sneered. Devon was his father's true child; joining the Navy like their father and behaved like a gentleman.

Devon and Ross are nowhere near perfect.

They hit me all the time. They starve me. They lock me in a bathroom for days.

They told me they would kill me someday.

Father almost broke my arm for what Ross did.

The blond boy looked to the sky. It was dark, and Ralph loved darkness. Darkness made him couldn't be seen. And when he couldn't be seen, he would go unnoticed, unharmed. Darkness reminded him to his beloved blanket, which was as black as Jack's choir robe. He always felt safe under the blanket, because they would never touch him there.

But here? He couldn't go unnoticed in here. He was the chief, their spotlight.

Their hope.

Ralph laid down on the sand, didn't care of the slight shiver on his legs. The air was cold, but the sounds from the water near him were soothing enough Ralph didn't want to move. He closed his eyes, trying to catch some sleep.

Wrong decision.

Flashes of his cruel family came into his mind.

Look at this little darling Ralphie! Can't even stand on his feet, can he?

Look at your brothers. They are so much better looking than you. You have your father's blond hair, but that's the only thing you have from him. Sad to be you, isn't it?

You're such a failure, Ralph. How can you follow your father and Devon into the Navy?

Ross will join the Army once he's out of school. We never think you're fit enough to join the military.

What am I, if I'm not following their footsteps?

Ralph whimpered, but he couldn't open his eyes. Fists, swishes of a belt, and sneers flashed in his mind, and he trembled. His mind played the most terrifying memory he had heard when he was eleven.

Why should we keep him? Mother died because of him. Why doesn't Father put him in an orphanage?

Yeah, Father has us, why should he mind that little scum? That scrawny boy whose bones can be easily broken is not a part of our family!

Probably we should talk to Father about this.

Ralph screamed agonizingly. He didn't know what he would get if he was put in the orphanage, but he felt it wouldn't be good. He tossed and turned, trying to banish things that kept his nights troubled.

You can't do this? For the Queen's sake, Ralph, you're surely making me angry!

You...!

Suddenly he was covered with warmth and it vanished. Ralph sagged weakly in relief and continued his now dreamless sleep. When he woke up, there was something above him. Something smooth.

Something... black.

He sat up and stared at a cross sewed on it.

Ralph smiled weakly.

Two days later...

(This could be known since a boy named Robert marked the day on a tree)

When Ralph walked down the forest and towards the beach, he looked up and saw smoke colouring the fresh air. He wondered why he was so obsessed of being rescued. He personally didn't want to go home, but he knew better than to be selfish. The littleuns needed their parents, Piggy needed his auntie, the choirboys needed their family, and Ralph knew they couldn't stay here forever.

The only one who didn't really want to go home was Jack. He silently admired the redhead's courage and wondered if Jack endured things in his life like he was.

Ralph winced when he stretched his back. He didn't need to look to see how badly bruised his back was.

"Bloody hell!"

Ralph, still occupied by his thoughts, saw the new shelter shattered before he heard the curse. A flash of red hair and Ralph's heart swelled. But then he saw the shelter and remembered how hard it had been, making that one with only Simon as the source of help. And even that barmy boy couldn't help much.

"Jack! What on earth have you done?"

Jack snapped his head at him and scowled. It was obvious that he didn't know Ralph was there, so he could go away from his 'crime' unnoticed.

Ralph, for the first time, was enraged. The shelter was the first thing that was made from his own hands and wasn't seen as a failure. He would never forget Percival's huge eyes filled with awe when the little boy saw it for the first time. "You destroyed the shelter!"

Jack merely glanced at it, which was now a pile of leaves and woods.

"Fix that!" the blond ordered.

Jack shook his head. "I'm going hunting. Those kids need meat..."

Ralph glared at him. "Yeah, off you go, Merridew," he said, couldn't hide his bitterness. "You enjoy your work! You enjoy yourself hunting!"

Jack's face flashed into something like... pity before he went expressionless again. "They need meat!"

"No Jack, you need meat!"

"Whatever."

At that point, Ralph had expected the redhead to take his spear and leave. To his surprise, he didn't. Jack merely huffed and threw himself on the sand. Ralph laid next to him on his stomach. The blond bit his lip.

"We need shelters, Jack," he said, as calmly as possible. If he was calm, maybe Jack would fix it now. He hated when the boys were starting to hunt. It sounded... uncivilised.

Jack didn't answer. He let out his knife and stabbed the sand with it. "We. Need. Meat."

Faces of the hopeful littleuns flashed on Ralph mind, and he looked at the mountain to see the smoke still colouring the air. "All you can talk about is pig, pig, pig. Don't you want to be rescued?"

Jack sat up abruptly. "Me, as well as you, surely don't want to be rescued!"

And then he jumped off and rushed into the forest, leaving the gobsmacked blond behind.

"Are you sure you don't want some sleep, Ralph?"

Ralph stared at Piggy's sleepy eyes below his specs. "Later."

"My auntie said that if you sleep late you'll have bags under your eyes." Piggy said with his odd, spoiled accent. "She told me sleeping late is bad for my asthma."

Ralph bit back his hurtful retort. He didn't want to hear more about the fat boy's ass-mar as well as his auntie. His auntie seemed like a very caring person. Deep inside himself, he refused to admit his jealousy towards the other boy. Maybe Piggy was fat, had that ass-mar, and couldn't see without his specs, but at least he was loved by someone.

Oh, of course not, his mind scolded him. You won't envy that fat slug, although you know his life is better than yours. You're much better than him!

Eventually Piggy fell asleep, knowing that he failed to pull Ralph into sleep. Ralph stared at the sleeping boys and sighed.

It's good that they don't know who you are at home, isn't it Ralph? If they did, would they stand to be near you? To share a shelter with you?

Ralph knew Ross and Devon would be over the moon if they knew his plane crashed in the ocean. He could picture them, Devon's huge grin and Ross delightful nod masked behind false sadness as they told Father that his youngest son had died.

His cruel thoughts were starting to overwhelm him. Ralph gripped the choir robe and ran out from the already-repaired shelter, silently hoping that he wouldn't wake anyone. Piggy was the only one who noticed his disappearance and was starting to stick his nose in Ralph's business. It was the last thing Ralph needed, someone trying to know what he had in mind.

People will hate me if they know what's on my mind.

He sat on the sand and covered his body with the cloak. The cloak wasn't thick enough to sweat him, but enough to keep the tremors out his body. Ralph buried his head into the blackness of the cloak and smiled inwardly. The cloak smelled of a boy. He could imagine the owner, face blurry, wearing it and sing.

It seemed good to be a choirboy, Ralph mused. Jack, despite of his haughtiness and how he slightly reminded Ralph to a better version of Ross, was surely a good choirboy. He had heard he 'practiced' the choirboys when they were in a fire duty, singing Suo Gan, a Welsh lullaby he had heard from his neighbour.

Ralph closed his eyes and wondered whose cloak this was.

Maybe the owner doesn't want it anymore. So he dumps it to you.

Ralph shook his head strongly. He once read (Devon would kill him if he knew Ralph had been poking around his books) that choirboys prided their togs as well as the badges on their hats. Like Jack's. He never wanted to let go of his hat, on which his golden badge was pinned.

Ralph yawned.

Goodness, how could those thoughts make me sleepy?

He laid down on the sand and pulled the warm cloak over his body. Several minutes later he was asleep.

And for the second time since he arrived on this island, his sleep was peaceful.

Probably two weeks later (since nobody knew and cared about time but night and day, even Robert), rage was the other thing Ralph felt on this island.

When he looked up to the sky and noticed the ship, he automatically thought about everyone else. And then he realised that there was no smoke. He jumped out the water and rushed up the mountain, screaming himself hoarse and waving his shirt around.

But he was too late.

Part of him felt sad for failing the rescue attempt. He was the one who ordered the fire so they could be rescued, and now he failed that job. Another was overjoyed because he didn't want to go back to that hellhole he was forced to call a house anymore. The rest was filled with anger. Finally his angry side won. He blinked and looked around, waiting for Jack and his minions to return.

Some littleuns ran towards him several minutes later, followed by an exhausted Piggy. Simon was nowhere to be seen. Ralph's anger had died down, but it flared again when one of littleuns—Walter?—pulled his shirt and said, "I see the ship," he said. "I want home, Ralph."

Ralph was selfless. No wonder, since he had never been given any chance to think about himself. His heart melted when the littleun cried. He knelt and awkwardly pulled the boy into his arms.

Ralph never knew how warm a hug could be. He was never hugged, and hugs he had given were so few he could count it with his fingers. He wondered if he was doing this right. He wondered if the boy liked it or not. He wondered if…

But then he heard the boy's cries faded and his thin arms hugged Ralph in return. The blond gasped in surprise, all thoughts drowned the by warmth he gave him. He closed his eyes and hugged the boy tighter as the feeling of the sign of affection seeped into his inner core.

Jack and his pack of hunters, which Ralph referred as 'boys armed with sticks', arrived sometime after with Simon and the rest of the boys. At first Ralph didn't acknowledge their arrival. No, not until Piggy accused Jack for leaving the fire to die.

"You and your blood, Jack Merridew!"

Ralph snapped his eyes open, released the boy, and stood. There was Jack, his red hair mussed from wind and excitement. His knife in hand, its blade covered with blood. There was a smug grin on his face, although his eyes were dimmed slightly from Piggy's words before.

"You let the fire out," he said, as calm as possible.

"We went hunting!" Jack said, still grinning. He gestured towards the dead pig. "You see, Ralph? I told you we need meat."

Ralph couldn't help but to blurt out, "There was a ship, Jack! A bloody ship!"

Jack's eye twitched, but he didn't say anything. For a while there was an uncomfortable silence, covering the usually noisy boys like a thick cloak. Until Piggy opened his mouth.

"We could've gone home right now!"

Ralph rooted on his place. He could hear some of the littleuns were starting to cry. Those crying boys sensed a huge fight was coming, and they didn't like it at all. He could hear Simon trying to calm them down, followed by one of the hunters. They failed, though.

"We could've been rescued!" Piggy continued, obviously never knowing when to keep his mouth shut. "But no! We could've gone home, but Jack and the hunters weren't sensible enough, so we still stay on this island!"

Ralph frowned, started to get overwhelmed by the noises. Then Jack, driven by violence, rushed towards the fat boy. And before Ralph could say anything, the redhead smacked him so hard his specs were thrown. Ralph's eyes widened when the specs collided with the hard ground and a cracked sound was heard.

"My specs!"

Nobody moved but Simon. The boy picked the glasses off the ground and gave it to the miserable Piggy. The boy's beady eyes widened when he saw his precious specs was half-broken.

Piggy glared at Jack, who glared back, as he wore his glasses. "You broke a lens! Jus' you wait..."

Jack's face twisted into a sneer. "Jus' you wait—yeah!"

The choirboys laughed at that perfect imitation of Piggy's odd accent. Even the previously crying littleuns laughed as well. Piggy's back was facing Ralph, if he weren't he would see a slight smile on Ralph face.

But Jack did.

The redhead clapped his hands together and the noise stopped. "Alright, listen up. Chief," he said the word rather irritatingly as he took his spear. "I know we've made a huge mistake. For that I'm sorry." A huge grin spread across his face.

"There. I apologise."

The boys around, save for Piggy and Ralph, were cheering instantly. Ralph was sure Simon joined in as well. The choirboys' cheers were the loudest, and even the silent Roger (Ralph wondered if he could talk at all) patted Jack's back, grinning. His grin somehow got into Ralph's nerves.

Maybe their chapter chorister isn't the type who apologises easily.

Ralph sighed and smiled inwardly. He was rather happy to see things turned out like this. His life wasn't full with cheers, after all. But a littleun who stood near Ralph muttered to himself. "We still can't go home."

Then the anger came back. The boy was right. The ship had gone, and they were still stuck. The fire had died on the important time, and Ralph had failed the boys. He had promised the fire would make them rescued, and now he failed.

"That was a dirty trick," he murmured to himself. Nobody could hear it amongst the cheering.

But then the noise died down. Ralph swung his shirt to his shoulder, silently glad that his bruises had faded. "Light the fire then," he said ungraciously.

Jack and his lot obliged, and after a glance Ralph left them, walking alone down the mountain.

Today was a bit colder than usual. Ralph buried his face under the cloak. He was still haunted by the horrors at home, but it was much better than before. The face of his father, at least, was starting to blur in the blond's mind.

The cloak didn't smell as much as the owner anymore. It smelled more like the beach now, the sand and the salty water. He liked beaches, even though he had a bad experience when he was around same age with the littleuns.

Remember when Devon tried to drown you?

He blinked and the images of Devon pulling his feet down the water, trying to drown him, slowly vanished. He was starting to fall asleep when he heard voices from behind him. He stiffened but didn't move.

The sound of footsteps slowly came nearer.

That must be one of the boys who couldn't sleep.

Ralph decided to pretend to be asleep. Exhaustion started to overcome him, and he didn't want to bother anyone in such an hour.

And then he heard a hushed voice. It was said so softly he almost couldn't hear it.

"Fancy meeting you here, Chief."

Ralph was so shocked he jerked out his sleep and was met face-to-face with the one and only C sharp singer Jack Merridew.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Can't sleep," the redhead answered easily. "And what are you doing here? Is your new shelter starting to get uncomfortable?"

Ralph didn't answer. He silently cursed the redhead for stealing his sleepiness away.

Jack, sensing the reluctance in the other boy, didn't say anything either. They stared at the sea and listened to the voices of water hitting rocks.

"Is it that cold?" he asked.

"What?"

"You're wearing a choirboy's tog. Is it that cold for you?"

Ralph shook his head. Jack was shirtless and he could see shivers on his thin body. The blond opened the cloak wordlessly, offering more warmth. Ralph knew Jack wasn't the type of person who would take offers easily. He was a type who would wait. He could practically see gears running in Jack's head.

But eventually the redhead scooted closer and covered himself with the rest of the cloak. It wasn't enough for both of them, but neither minded. And then there they remained, silently watching the dark sea until some time the two of them fell asleep.

It was kind of shocking, actually, for Ralph since Jack came to him every night. He would pretend to sleep and when he heard the words of 'Fancy meeting you here, Chief' he would wake up.

And then they would talk. Or just staring at the darkness until sleep captured them.

Ralph had a bad day today. The littleuns were starting to talk about this beastie, and he didn't want that to scare them. He was their chief, after all, it was his job to keep everyone happy. He wondered what that beastie looked like.

Jack seemed to believe in that rubbish too. But he was the only one Ralph could really talk to, being around same age and all. So he did. "You don't want to go home, do you?"

Jack snapped his head at him. Clearly he had lost in his own thoughts. "What?"

"Don't you miss your family?"

Ralph was shocked when the boy next to him let out a bitter laugh. "Me? Bollocks to those people."

This poked Ralph's interest. "What happened?" he asked with sympathy.

"You don't want to know." Jack answered silently.

Ralph nodded sadly. "Actually I don't want to go home either," he said, so softly Jack had to ask him to repeat.

The redhead frowned. "Then why are you turning into such a pyromaniac?" he asked. "A fire freak who wants the rescue fire to be lit all the time."

Ralph bit his lip. Jack was right. He told Jack the truth. "Because I'm the chief, Jack. A chief knows what his minions need. They want their family. Their home."

Jack's head snapped upwards, and the gesture reminded Ralph of their first meeting. "Yeah, and then you just sitting there telling people what to do."

"I'm not!"

"You are!"

"I'm not!"

"If you are why don't you sit there all the time, watching the fire by yourself?" Jack asked irritatingly. He jumped out from the warmth of the cloak, Ralph followed.

Ralph couldn't answer. Tension and silence cloaked them.

"We are on a bloody island, Ralph," Jack said eventually, his voice still had a hint of irritation. "A place with no rules, no grownups, and we're free! The last thing we need is someone screwing things up with his uppity rules!"

"I'm not screwing it up!"

"We are having fun, don't you see?"

"At first it is!" Ralph shouted. "I've seen you hunting, Jack, and is killing pigs can you call as fun?!"

"Well at least it's better than staying in the orphanage!"

Ralph's head snapped as if he were slapped. Orphanage?

Jack said something, but Ralph was too busy with his thoughts to notice.

Why should we keep him? Mother died because of him. Why doesn't Father put him in an orphanage?

Yeah, Father has us, why should he mind that little scum? That scrawny boy whose bones can be easily broken is not a part of our family!

Probably we should talk to Father about this.

"Cat got your tongue or something?" suddenly Jack shoved him.

Ralph snapped out his thoughts, and managed to say, "You lived in an orphanage?"

Jack's face paled. And before someone could say something, he turned his back and fled.

Jack changed. He became sharper, more annoying, and the worst of all, more distant. He rushed away whenever Ralph tried to talk to him. And it was getting worse by days.

And now was the worst.

Ralph didn't know why Jack did this to him. The beast was surely had gotten into them all. Ralph couldn't really remember what he had said, but he knew Jack was leaving their lot. He had called an assembly and accused Ralph something the blond couldn't remember.

What Ralph remembered was Jack left to make his own fun.

Let him be, Ralph. And if those boys armed with sticks want to go with him, let them.

Ralph tried, he swore to God he did. But Jack left him in the worst situation. When the redhead had mentioned about orphanage, Ralph had been forced to think about his brothers' words again and again. It left him screaming for hours. Even the cloak couldn't help. Since it belonged to a choirboy, and Jack was one, it could only make things worse. But it was still his grip to reality, so he kept it and used it every night.

Piggy couldn't help as well. That fat lard. Ralph didn't dislike him too much anymore, since nothing could change his fatness, his ass-mar, and his inability towards manual labour. Every time Ralph looked at him, or listened to his ramblings about his hometown, his auntie's candy shop, he was blinded by jealousy.

Nobody understood what happened inside his head.

Only Jack understood.

Ralph never told the redhead anything about his past, but Jack had been there almost in all his worst times in the island. He never said anything, but Ralph was sure Jack knew that something was troubling him. Having a friend in his dark times was the best thing Ralph had ever had.

"Good morning, Chief Ralph."

Ralph didn't need to turn around to see who it was. "It's already midday, Simon."

"Who knows what time is it?" Simon asked. "I don't think even you know."

"And why are you here?" Ralph asked back, couldn't hide his bitterness. It had been three days (if he were right) since Jack's departure, and Ralph's lot had lost several boys. "Shouldn't you be in the woods, hanging out with lizards and beasts and God knows what?"

Simon smiled shyly. "You know I don't believe in beasts, don't you?"

Ralph tried not to throttle him. Beast was why Jack left, leaving him here to deal with himself.

Bloody beast.

"I know things happen between you and Jack lately."

"You mean?" Ralph's heart raced. My God, did he watch me and Jack all those nights?

"You two are kind of alike," Simon said in his usual dreamy voice. "It's nice to see Jack has a friend."

Ralph snorted. The two of them were nowhere near friendly. Except their nights together, their relationship—oh, that sounded so bloody wrong—were filled more by enmity than friendliness.

But still, Simon's smile didn't waver. Obviously Ralph didn't want him to be here. He was surely as batty as he looked. "I know the two of you will get back all right."

Ralph frowned and looked up the sky, feeling a tinge of satisfaction when he saw the smoke. He hadn't given up the hope of being rescued, but as time progressed, the hope began to fade. He was sure Jack, Roger, and some other boys had given up much earlier.

"Got a ship in your pocket?" he asked sarcastically.

"No," the dark boy stood, still smiling. Batty. "I just know you will get back all right."

And then he walked into the forest, leaving Ralph who surrendered into his own thoughts once again.

Ralph was beyond shocked when some biguns, covered with clay and blood (Ralph didn't want to know whose blood it was) and whatnot, emerged from the forest and took the fire. Samneric almost fell down the cliff when Bill (or was it Maurice?) tripped them. Roger took a lit branch and they left as quickly as they came.

As Ralph helped Samneric to stand, anger flared his insides. What he hated the most was violence. He chased Jack at once, leaving the conch behind with Piggy and Simon, down the forest. He found himself on the other side of the island, the side that nobody had explored before.

Turned out Piggy and the twins followed him, and they arrived shortly after. They, along with Ralph, gaped when they saw the beach. It was cleaner, and there were more rocks, and at the edge of it there was a huge rocky hill. He remembered climbing up there with Jack from the other side of it.

It had been fun.

"Is that Castle Rock Jack had told Roger about?" Ralph heard Piggy whispered to the twins.

"We—"

"Don't—"

"Know."

Ralph, paying them no heed, looked up and there was Jack, standing proudly on one of high rocks near the passage to Castle Rock. His body was covered with clay and blood as well, and it pained Ralph to see that the Jack in their nights had gone with those intense paints.

"Give them some food."

Some littleuns jumped from their seats on the sand and shoved bananas to them. Then they went back to their former activity, hitting sticks and screaming. Roger sat on a rock near them and followed their rhythm. The dark choirboy shouted rather softly at first.

But then he screamed.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHH!"

It was the most terrifying scream Ralph had ever heard. The banana in his grip fell swiftly but he didn't even feel the fruit anymore. He didn't realise that his legs were trembling. But his vision changed. The beach blurred, and a room was visible on his sight.

Twelve wrongs from fifteen. Ross, please, one blow for one mistake.

Ralphie! Look, here comes the failure! And then there was a cynical laughter.

Count, you scum!

He doesn't know how to count! He failed this easy test, after all!

Ralph could hear his own screams, just as terrifying as Roger's was.

Ross, write this on his shirt! So people will know who our dear Ralphie is!

The vision changed into a small park near his house.

You still have that shirt, don't you, Ralph? Your favourite shirt, but Devon wrote 'I failed a Math test for a ten year old' and forced you to wear it outside. You remember how their friends called you?

Ralph, the boy that no one cares about!

Ralph, the failure!

Ralph, the rubbish!

Ralph…

"Ralph!"

Ralph was trembling greatly, but suddenly there were warm hands on his shoulders. His head jerked, the park suddenly vanished, and the sound of the sea filled his hearing before he could see the white sand beneath his feet.

He ran away towards the forest before he could see who had snapped his out his nightmare. What he last heard from the tribe were Piggy's words and Jack's sarcastic voice, which grew more distant as Ralph ran away.

"Let me speak!"

"You don't have the conch. You left it behind."

Sometimes it's great to let go for a while, to go as barmy as Simon and just… have fun.

Ralph grinned and looked around. Piggy told him that Jack would make a party that night, and all of them were free to come. Ralph knew Jack had been rather reluctant when he told this to Piggy, since nobody really liked Piggy.

Part of him was relieved that Jack was still thinking about him. Well, if he didn't, he wouldn't 'invite' Ralph's lot to the party, right? They had killed a sow and decided to celebrate. It was great, they had said.

He blinked and saw Roger. The dark boy gave him a lit branch and he taught him how to play with it. He watched Roger spun it around, making the fire looked like a huge firefly flying in circles. He looked at the other direction and Jack was throwing a lit branch into the sea. He looked at the other side of the island, and wondered if Piggy was sleeping in one of the shelters.

It was full of screams from the biguns, cracked voices from the fire, and screeches from the littleuns, but Ralph didn't mind. He didn't mind it at all. It was dark, and darkness was his friend. Nobody would touch him in the dark.

After a while, suddenly he felt a hand pulled him aside. He shouted in surprise as the boys he couldn't recognize carried him towards the sea. He should've been happy with that, it was only a joke after all, but Devon's face swam into his mind and he screamed.

"Put me down! Put me down! PLEASE PUT ME DOWN!"

No. Suddenly it didn't feel great at all. He screamed and screamed. They probably didn't hear him.

"PUT HIM DOWN THIS INSTANT!"

Suddenly water splashed around him, but he wasn't plunged into the sea. He could still feel sand below his back, and for that he was relieved. Then he looked up to see what had cancelled their idea to plunge Ralph into the sea as a joke.

Jack had pushed the boys who had tried to put him into the water. Ralph rose wetly from the sea. He shivered when the cool breeze hit his wet body. Jack merely spared him a glance and walked away. The boys stared at them for a while, but then they continued their frenzied dance. And they began to sing one of the most terrifying chants ever.

"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"

Suddenly Ralph felt someone pulled him away from the crowd and nearing the forest.

"Wait here."

Jack.

So Ralph did. He sat down and shivered. The redhead was back in around ten minutes, with the cloak in hand. He covered the shivering blond with it.

"Don't mind those boys," he said haughtily, even there was a small tint on amusement in it. "They have thrown children, especially Simon, into the lake every time they have a chance. They won't even dare to dream about it when I am around."

The crowd were still singing as they danced around the fire.

"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"

"Maybe that's why he's so batty," Ralph said, attempting a joke.

To his surprise, Jack smiled a bit. Although it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "You're really afraid of water, aren't you? What kind of chief you are? You can't hunt, you can't sing, and now you can't swim!"

Ralph stared to his eyes, and suddenly nothing else mattered. He wanted to tell Jack everything. And he meant it.

So he burrowed his head into the cloak and sighed. "I can swim, Jack. But I don't like being…"

"…Thrown?"

"Yes."

"I get it."

Ralph looked up and was shocked when he saw Jack's face was so near his own. The redhead's hair was so vivid it seemed like it was burning around his head. His face was flushed under those atrocious paints, his eyes… it was so open it shocked Ralph. Those eyes told Ralph everything. They were full of pain, sadness, even happiness and… love?

But all so sudden, Jack closed those eyes, closing his connection with Ralph. Then he leaned down and kissed him.

Behind them, the chant was still going.

"Kill the pig! Slit her throat! Bash her in!"

But it was no longer mattered.

"LOOK!"

Jack snapped his head towards the crowd. Ralph blinked, still gobsmacked. His cheeks grew hotter as he remembered his first kiss.

There was no noise, save for the cracked voice from the burned logs. Not even a littleun whimpered.

"THE BEAST!" Roger continued to scream.

There was a small sound of footsteps from the other side of the forest, the one near Castle Rock.

Too small for a beast.

Jack's eyes were filled with wildness before he took his spear and ran towards the forest, where the other boys were there, stabbing something with their spears.

There were so many screams. Ralph didn't know who was screaming what, but he found himself didn't mind, at all. As long as those screams were in the dark, he knew those wouldn't threaten him.

When the following day came, Ralph did mind what the boys had done. He found himself crying on his side of the island, below the shelter. The cloak huddled behind him, and Ralph didn't even dare to look at it.

"It was Simon, Piggy. That was murder."

"He asked for it, Ralph." Piggy reasoned.

"Nobody asked to be killed!" he sobbed.

For the first time after a while, Ralph knew he failed. He was their chief and he failed to keep them intact. To keep them alive until they were rescued.

You're always a failure.

"He's barmy, Ralph."

Ralph looked up and saw nothing on the sky. The twins were taken into Jack's tribe, and Ralph wondered what would happen to them. There was Jack, and Roger the sadist. Ralph hoped to God they wouldn't do anything so harmful.

Something flared inside him. Something he couldn't really interpret.

Hatred. And disgust.

Ralph touched his lips.

I've been kissed by a murderer.

Piggy said something else, but he couldn't hear what he was saying. He was busy with his own thoughts.

Then why part of me doesn't really care?

A few days later, Ralph found himself enraged. He stood on the steady rock in Castle Rock, facing Jack. His face flushed, and he tried to throw away the image of their kiss in their party.

"YOU'RE A BEAST, A SWINE, AND A BLOODY BLOODY THIEF!"

Theft was one of the things he hated the most. Jack stared back at him challengingly, his tall body towering over Ralph like a lamppost.

Piggy and Ralph were the only people remained civil, and then they had stolen Piggy's glasses. This enraged him. He didn't want to make another failure. No, not after Simon's death.

"If you want the fire, you could've asked for it!"

Jack was still silent. Ralph braved himself to look sharply at his eyes. His beautiful blue eyes. Hell, was he slipping. However, it showed nothing like it had been days ago. It showed mere coldness and wildness of a savage.

Piggy's whiny voice was heard from down there. "Ralph, I can't see! Listen to me! I have the conch!"

Ralph, didn't really care, pulled the spear from Jack's hands and they started fighting.

Piggy said something about being sensible and the boys laughed. Ralph fell on his bum on the ground. Didn't want to give up, he hit the redhead's legs like a spoiled child. It worked, though.

But then something else happened.

Ralph heard the boulder falling before he saw it. He opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out. He looked up and saw a flash of the remaining dark boy up there, a smirk on his face. Ralph's eyes widened when he realised what happened.

The huge rock struck Piggy, sending the conch into pieces. Ralph and Jack were so shocked they stopped moving. The fat boy swung unstably and fell face first towards the ocean.

Nobody spoke when the fat body slowly being swept away by the sea, just like Simon's earlier.

At that time, Ralph realised that he had failed once again.

"Kill the pig! Slit his throat! Bash him in!"

Ralph ran as fast as he could. He rushed down Castle Rock and into the forest. Jack's hollow eyes haunted him. His legs cramped but he didn't care.

"Kill the pig! Slit his throat! Bash him in!"

You've failed your friends, Ralph. Why don't you follow them into the realm of death?

Ralph didn't know why either. But then a small voice stopped him.

I know you'll get back all right.

Simon.

Yes, he was one of the reasons why Ralph wanted to survive. That batty boy's words had gotten into his mind, apparently. And he didn't want to die. As much as he hated his life, he never wanted to die.

He rushed towards his shelters. The boys' voices were still as loud as ever.

"Kill the pig! Slit his throat! Bash him in!"

"Kill the pig! Slit his…!"

The voices ceased at once as the boys appeared from the forest and saw Ralph sprawling in front of the feet of a naval officer.

Three Years Later…

"Devon's going home today," a cheery female voice said. "Ross and your father will join him. We should celebrate!"

Ralph shivered slightly on his seat, but it went unnoticed by Julia, his 'housekeeper'. He was fifteen now, and he wasn't the scrawny boy with funny teeth anymore. He had grown. He was tall, and it turned out he had his father's boxer built.

Ross joined the Army, as everyone had predicted. Devon entered the Navy with his father. Ralph was left alone since he was fourteen. Julia was actually his new neighbour, but she had grown fond of the 'calm and collected' Ralph and being a widow with no children, Father let her taking care of his youngest son.

Ralph excused himself and walked into his room. Flashes of his past came towards him. He hadn't seen them for almost a year, and he had felt content. He had tried to make friends, and he realised that he wasn't a failure.

Ross and Devon hadn't changed. They were still the same old abusive brothers they had been before Ralph got stranded in the island.

About the island boys…

All the boys were going in probation for killing Simon and Ralph's attempted murder. Roger was sent into an asylum for killing Piggy. There was something wrong with his mind. Percival and Samneric went into Ralph's middle school. Ralph didn't see them often, though.

As for Jack Merridew…

Ralph closed his eyes and let his mind go elsewhere. The nights they shared together in silence and their kiss were something that would forever remain in Ralph's mind, how much he tried to get rid of it. That was the main reason why he hadn't dated anyone until now.

Ralph laid down on his bed and covered himself with his black blanket. It reminded him with the cloak in the island. He wondered where the thing was now. He had taken it with him when they were rescued, but when they arrived in England it was gone. He tried not to think about it.

"Ralph! They are home!" Julia shouted from the living room.

Ralph sighed and forced himself to come out his bed. He walked out to the front door and saw them. They hugged him, but Ross had whispered to his ear, "Hello, scum."

Devon gave him a 'playful' punch on his shoulder, which wasn't too playful. Ralph groaned when he saw his brother eyes glinted in something he knew so well.

Here goes my old days.

When Ralph opened his eyes on the next day, he was shocked to see a small box on his window. Nobody was nice enough to give him presents without any reason, even his friends. There was something written on it.

To: Ralph

Yes, this is for me.

Ralph, filled with excitement, opened the box quickly. He gaped when he saw what was inside. He pulled out the choir tog out the box. It was freshly cleaned, and the cross was much shinier than it had been on the island. Ralph buried his face in the cloak, and the fresh scent from the garment calmed him.

He opened the paper under the cloak.

Ralph,

This is my tog. I hope you can use it better than I do. Like you did when we were still on the island. I wonder why you never ask me whose this cloak is. I reckon you know it already, since there was my initial sewed behind the cross. It was very small, so it was surprising to see someone like you noticed those things.

In our first night on the island, I couldn't sleep. So I went out to see you lying on the sand, screaming like you were in pain or something. That reminded me of Roger, and he always calmed down when I covered him with something. So I did the same to you. Found out it worked.

Wizard.

You know why I give this to you? I'm still a choirboy right now, still singing C sharp all the time. But I know you need this more than I do. I can sew a new one anyway, or will tell a kid to make it for me. A chapter chorister is a chapter chorister. I'm going to Guildhall someday. My teacher makes sure of that. Sadly I'm not a Head Boy anymore. Henry's brother took away my job. Well, it's unimportant.

I was walking near your house (I found it by accident) and saw your brothers. I heard how they talked about you and I know I have to help you. This is one of my ways to help you. I hope you don't mind.

Am I right? You were abused, and probably you still are. Don't ask me how I know. I just… knew. You talked in your sleep sometimes.

Me and Roger lived in an orphanage. It was a true hell. You probably had known that he had been sent into an intense therapy. Mine ended around three months ago. The old psychiatrist told me I was a good leader (like you) but I used it wrongly. Bollocks to that. I know that already. But I don't mind. She was great. I hope you don't need to go through a therapy, but if you do I hope your psychiatrist is as nice as mine.

Anyways, the hell of an orphanage cost Roger some of his teeth and you know why I have a knife? To keep myself alive. An old slug wanted to rob me and I stabbed him when I was ten. Lovely, isn't it? We shared dark pasts, Ralph. I was, and still am, rather glad to feel that someone else has gone through things with me. I'm a true orphan, but it turns out Roger's mum remarried and she wanted me to be around since I'm Roger's best friend and all.

I know all the kids hate me, and I'm not expecting you to welcome me with open arms. Roger told me he was sorry, but I wasn't sure he said it soberly or under those medicines. If you wish, we can meet sometimes. I'd love to see you. Or just reply this letter.

Best regards,

Jack Merridew

PS: Maybe fate wanted to pair us up or something. But I live around here. Here is my address, feel free to visit me.

Ralph smiled weakly and traced the cross, feeling the small 'J. C. M' behind it. He didn't know whose cloak this was, but he was happy to know it was Jack's.

He sighed. He had been into therapy as well, and he found himself forgiving the boys. He eyed the address and smiled.

Probably we can go more civil and talk.

Ralph blushed.

Or maybe kiss some more.

FIN.

A/N: I like the ending. So? I hope you like it! I hope I don't screw up :)

And J.C. M is for Jackson Christopher Merridew. You know where I take that 'Christopher', right? I know LotF from the 90's movie. ^^v