Disclaimer: Not mine.

DREAM OF FOREVER

soumanyon

Chapter 1

It began as a routine drug bust.

We had been informed that a lucrative amount of money would be trading hands that night at the old abandoned shipping warehouse by the beach. Sho had jumped at the chance to return to the beach again. It held nothing but memories of chasing each other down on the sand and an evening spent among friends.

I don't blame Sho for occasionally forgetting that the beach unsettles me. I'm glad he isn't bothered with nightmares about an orange sunrise on that beach. He's lucky. I can never forget that day when Luka decided he was too tired with the world to go on and left me to survive alone. That beach symbolizes death to me.

After that first night of laughter and fun, Sho had asked me in that naive way of his whether it helped to displace my other memories of the beach. I tousled his hair like I used to do when he was younger, which annoyed him and he swiped at my hand. We both laughed it off and he forgot about the question that was left unanswered.

Of course not.

I could never forget Luka, even if I wanted to.

But my thoughts are drifting where I don't want them to go and with a final long drag from the half-smoked cigarette between my fingertips, I drop it and crush it under my heel as Sho fires off a last double round from the guns in each of his hands. Pushing off the wall that I'd been leaning against, I smirk. That's always been one of my proudest accomplishments; teaching Sho to wield guns with deadly accuracy in both hands. It's not an easy thing to do and I used to gloat over it. Of course, when Son entered our lives that fateful night with double guns, it threw me off a little. Now I don't gloat as much over it, although Sho has better aim than Son.

"Kei," He's walking over to me now, buckling one of the guns back into a hip holster. An eager grin is plastered on his face and I subtly roll my eyes at his antics. No doubt he'd be reliving that fight for weeks to come. And Shinji would only encourage him, despite his fond jealously of his little brother.

We head towards the stairs that lead up to main floor and I light up another cigarette on the way. Sho, cocky as hell now, steals my lit cigarette before I get a chance to take a breath and sticks it between his lips as he nudges past me.

"Baka." I mutter under my breath and tuck my hands into my coat pockets. He tosses his head back to smirk at me, the long braids flying around his face and I return an overly exaggerated roll of my eyes.

Finally he gives the cigarette back to me as we reach the top of the stairs. He holds it up for me and I casually grab it with my teeth from his fingers, surprising him. The subtle blush I can count on that action to elicit was well worth his stealing my cigarette for a few minutes.

But as soon as I take a breath, a clear, sneering voice rings out from our right,

"Cigarettes will be the death of you."

There was no more warning. Sho managed to raise his gun as I turned to the voice.

The first bullet strikes high on the right side of my chest. A perfect hit; it forms a neat little hole that was already seeping blood into my black shirt and I don't have to check to know that it went straight out my back. It was, after all, almost point blank. Goddammit, it hurt. I choke as the air rushes from my lung out through a hole in my chest that shouldn't be there. Blood wells up in my mouth and I can't hold back the wheezing cough that sprays it out on the ground in front of me.

That's when another bullet hits me in the stomach. The force of it pushes me back and I stumble against the wall, sliding down it and leaving a sick red trail from the two exit wounds in my back. My legs have given out on me and for a while, the sting, if it can be described so monotonously, keeps me motionless on the ground as I try to breathe.

Shit.

With an animalistic yell, Sho leaps into action with his two guns firing where we'd heard the voice. He fires off round after round but there's no scream, yell, or even the satisfying thud of a falling body. The only blood that I can smell is my own.

After emptying his clips and half from another two guns, he's satisfied that we aren't in too much danger for him to check on me. Sho runs to me with the same worry as when he was a little street kid written all over his face. Another reason why I hate getting shot. Sho gets so worried over me even though he knows that I can't die from something like a bullet wound. It just...stings. A lot.

"Kei!" he kneels down next to me as I try to tug my jacket closed as much as I can over the wounds. At least the shot missed my favorite red jacket but the blood stains were going to be hell to get out. But then again, that's why this jacket is my favorite. It can take a few blood stains and still survive.

"'m fine." I gasp out, surprised at the wispy, breathless sound of my own voice. Ah, the punctured lung. More like blown to hell. And back.

"Shit Kei! Why didn't you dodge those?" his voice is angry, but his hands are gentle as he easily knocks away my hold on my jacket. Carefully pulling the sides back, he glares at the wounds as if that would make them heal. At least with how dark the warehouse is and my black tank top, he can't see how much blood there is. And there's a lot, if that freezing draft over my chest and stomach is indicating anything. Then again, I'm always cold; you don't have much body heat when you're half dead. The only time I warm up a little is right after feeding and with all the blood I've lost, the pulsing jugular on Sho's neck looks even more attractive than usual.

I tear my eyes away from it even as my tongue flicks out to the corner of my mouth where a little of my own blood that had welled in my mouth had leaked out. A few drops of cooling blood makes the hot blood I can almost smell just under Sho's skin even more attractive. It's like a drug and I'm completely addicted, but I've never drank his blood and I never will, no matter how tempting it is at times. I just need to find one of the many corpses we've left around here.

"Kei, can you walk?" But even as he asks me, he's pulling me up by my left arm. We both know that it's not safe to stick around a 'dead' warehouse after you've just been attacked by a still at-large sniper. So much for dinner.

Walking is very painful. You don't realize how much your chest and back move when you walk until you try it with a bullet wound. We're moving too slow for either of us and I can sense Sho's growing impatience, his anger at not catching the sniper, and his concern for me. Stupid boy. I'm a vampire and vampires don't die, except by suicide.

"Sho," I whisper, not able to make my own pathetic voice any louder. I'm already breathless from walking. I try to pull away from him, but the kid's gotten stronger over the years. He won't let go of my arm. "Sho," I say again, this time since we've stopped, I have enough breath to make an audible sound.

"Let me walk the hell by myself." I snarl at him, wrenching my arm away. I'm not in a good mood. Being shot sucks.

He glares at me, still not letting go. I pull again and finally he releases my arm with a pouty 'fine, screw you'.

But I'm right, as always. Without me hanging off his arm, we're able to move much faster. We finally get to the car and I'm embarrassed that he opened the passenger side door for me without a word before vaulting over the hood and climbing into the driver's seat. Still, I wince as I get into the car and force my stomach to bend. My wound that was already beginning to scar over rips open again. Damn.

Without a word, Sho reaches across me and pulls my door shot and guns the car out of the parking lot.

tbc...