"The Four Corners of the Night"

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WARNINGS: Um, bad stuff. Yaoi, gore, stuff.

DISCLAIMERS: Don't own, don't sue.

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"Ah, Jowston, the land of my birth!" Viktor's voice boomed out over the barren plain as he stretched his arms wide, as if trying to embrace the landscape. Flik stood behind him, an unimpressed frown on his face. He idly nudged Viktor's pack with his foot.

"Looks dead to me," the smaller man grumbled, looking from the leafless trees to the dry, yellow grass and finally to the unending horizon. "And flat," he added. "Are you sure we're not still in the badlands?"

"Shut up, Flik," Viktor muttered. "Just let me enjoy being home for a second."

Flik grudgingly obliged. He was still mad at Viktor for deciding to enter Jowston via the badlands, instead of just taking the river route. It's faster, he'd said. There's less traffic and bandits! Besides, Flik heard Viktor's joking voice in his head; do you really want to spend three weeks on a boat? Never mind that Flik had nearly died on the trek through the desert, or that most of their supplies had been lost to wolves! They'd saved a week, and according to Viktor, that was all that mattered. Flik glared daggers at the back of Viktor's head.

"How far is Kuskus from here?" Flik asked after a long silent moment. His feet were aching--they'd had to make most of the journey to Jowston on foot after their horses had run off, scared by some unseen creature of the desert. The farther they traveled the heavier his pack got, but Flik would rather die than let Viktor carry it for him, as he had offered to do countless times during the past few days. However, as his gaze wandered over the vast plain, Flik thought Viktor would be lucky if he didn't end up carrying him, instead.

Viktor half turned, pinning the younger man with an unreadable look. "Another ten miles or so," he answered. He smiled, watching Flik's expression go from disgruntled to hateful. "I don't think we'll make it before dark," Viktor said, motioning to the already sinking sun. "But we should at least try. I don't want to camp out here."

"Why not? There's nothing for miles." Flik didn't bother scanning the horizon--he knew he wouldn't find anything worth looking at.

"Wrong." The larger man turned back around. "North Window is just beyond here."

"What...? How? I don't see anything," Flik said, momentarily forgetting the significance of the place.

"There's nothing to see," Viktor responded with a dry smile. "It's all dead." Beside him, Flik silently cursed his own stupidity and lack of tact. Why hadn't he remembered that? Of all the times to forget Viktor's dreadful past... Quickly, the younger man tried to recover.

"You're right," he said. "We should push on." Stooping, he hoisted his pack with only a little difficulty. He watched Viktor do the same. Flik frowned. It was odd to see Viktor so withdrawn. Being so close to the place where... all that bad business had happened must be more than a little unsettling. Flik mentally kicked himself again. He needed to stop being so selfish--Viktor had a lot more to complain about than he did.

They trudged on in silence; Flik was too embarrassed to strike up a conversation and Viktor was no doubt lost, thinking about events of long ago. The sun descended, its hazy yellow light glinting in their eyes. Eventually Flik gave up on trying to see where he was going, blindly following Viktor instead. It became apparent that neither man knew where he was going as Viktor stumbled on the roots of a tree, long since dead, and almost fell. The large man released a smothered curse as he lost his footing.

Flik said nothing, watching the display. Under any other circumstances he might have been tempted to poke fun at Viktor, but today he felt that it would be inappropriate. Instead, Flik held a hand over his eyes, hoping to block out the sun's harsh rays. It worked, to an extent--he could now see the vague outline of a town not even a mile off and the faint glimmer of the lake. That had to be Kuskus, he thought with relief. A long night's rest in an honest-to-God bed would do them both good. Sleeping in bedrolls for the past month had been hell on his back...

The younger man winced as he realized that wasn't the only reason his back hurt. Flik glanced over at Viktor. Yes, he decided, a bed would do them both worlds of good.

"We're almost there," Flik muttered, looking back at Viktor, whom had fallen behind. He nodded, grimacing. Suddenly, Flik felt compelled to fill the silence. The longer it stretched on, the more disquieted Flik became. Viktor could have regaled him with at least ten "fantastic" stories by now. Why wouldn't he say anything?

"Is it hard; coming home?" Flik asked, directing his statement to the sky, rather than to Viktor. The larger man stared at him for a long moment. Flik met his gaze--trying to keep his own expression open and neutral, but only succeeding in looking tired and concerned. Viktor smiled then, the first real smile that Flik had seen from him upon entering Jowston. The slighter man returned the gesture, though he wasn't really sure why.

"It still surprises me, sometimes," Viktor said.

"What does?"

"Just how attractive you are." The dark-haired man turned away, mentally groaning as Flik rolled his eyes. This whole false modesty thing of Flik's was getting rather old, Viktor thought, sparing him a sidelong glance.

"I wish you wouldn't--" Flik started, but was interrupted by his partner.

"I don't get it," Viktor broke in, "you'll let all those women tell you all about your wonderful self, but the second I open my mouth you go cold."

"It's different with you," Flik answered, unconsciously tugging on the tails of his bandanna.

"How so?" Viktor watched the younger man grope for words. He was so bad at this--sometimes getting Flik to talk to him was like pulling his teeth. Viktor was coming to realize that Flik was the type of man that would rather just sleep with you than tell you why he wanted to.

Finally Flik came up with an answer. "Because you mean something to me and those women don't," he said, scratching the back of his head. "Can we just drop it?"

Viktor frowned. "You need to learn how to take a compliment, Flik." The other man didn't respond; he seemed content to trudge on in silence for the moment. So be it, Viktor thought. He didn't feel like talking any more, besides.

It was almost like he could feel it in his bones--North Window couldn't be far from here. Viktor had hoped that Flik would have been able to distract him, even a scathing argument would have been all right. However, the man had fallen back into his own sullen thoughts. The closer they got to the dead town the more jumpy Viktor felt, his hand hovering uneasily over the hilt of his sword. He looked up and winced. The first houses were clearly in sight.

This was stupid, Viktor decided. North Window simply wasn't anymore. It had been wiped out, obliterated. All that remained was the skeleton of the town that used to be his home. There was no reason for him to push Flik or himself any farther just to be away from this place. Why, he should just throw his stuff down now and make a camp.

Viktor couldn't do it. If anything, he started walking faster.

"Hey..." Flik muttered as he watched the other man pull away from him. "Wait up, would you?" He had to run to catch up to him. "What's the rush?" He asked, trying his best to ignore his throbbing legs.

When Viktor didn't respond, Flik followed his gaze to the horizon. "Oh. Is that Kuskus?" Inwardly, Flik breathed a sigh of relief. Much more of this and he was just going to fall over.

"No." Viktor said, crushing the other man's hopes with a single syllable. "That's North Window."

Ah. Flik backed off, not sure what to do. He took another look at the small, desolate town. Well, almost desolate, Flik amended. If his eyes were not mistaken, there was what looked to be a single inhabitant in North Window, harshly outlined by the dying sun. Even more strangely, he was waving. "Viktor... I thought you said the town was dead."

"It is," he responded. Looking up, Viktor was confronted with evidence that said otherwise. He stopped--motionless, as Flik had never seen him. The younger man could almost hear Viktor's thoughts racing... Could someone have been left behind? No, I buried them all. Then...?

More than half of Viktor wanted to run away--whatever was waiting for them there wasn't going to be good. But there were doubts...could he have been mistaken? He'd been almost mad with grief and rage; was it possible that someone had escaped unnoticed? Viktor watched the figure wave with a mixture of horror and hope.

Flik waited at his side, concern creasing his brow. He was feeling particularly useless--like he'd entered a battle without knowing why he was fighting. What was Viktor going to do? Never before had Flik seen a look like the one that was capturing the older man's features now. He wanted to leave.

"We should check it out," Viktor said, much to Flik's surprise. "It would be rude to ignore an invitation."

Silently, Flik cursed Viktor's morbid sense of curiosity. It was going to get them into real trouble one day.

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The moment he stepped into North Window Flik knew something was wrong. The air was different here...cold and stagnant. It was as if it hadn't passed between human lips in years, but that was ridiculous. He was outside, in open air. Nothing may have been moving, but it still seemed like everything was alive. The small, ramshackle buildings alternately turned him away and invited him into their dark recesses--begging him to see what lie just inside.

It was strange. Flik thought that at least the animals would have reclaimed the place after so many years, but he saw nothing. No rats, no birds, not even any insects floated in the dead air. He felt like he was trespassing, like at any moment he would be punished for stirring dust that had settled long ago.

Viktor wasn't helping to alleviate Flik's tension--he hadn't spoken a word since they started towards the town, and that unnerved the younger man all the more. Flik longed to grab his arm and drag him forcibly away, but Viktor's dark expression kept him from doing so. It wasn't like he could abandon him, either. Leaving Viktor here in this...place was unthinkable. Flik could only hope that their business here would be short.

Their footsteps echoed on the empty street. The sky seemed to darken as they pushed farther towards the center of the town. Or maybe it was the houses that made it appear so; they were darker; taller than the stoops at the entrance. They loomed over the pair almost threateningly.

"Viktor..." Flik whispered, immediately wondering why he dared not speak at full volume, "There's no one here. Let's leave."

"I used to live there," the other man stated, ignoring Flik's nervous pleading. He pointed to a modest house standing not three yards from them. Shudders hung haphazardly from the windows; huge chunks of missing plaster gave the residence a diseased, sickly appearance. The porch looked like it had been torn apart by a creature of great strength, and Flik wondered at it, but decided it best not to ask. The front door hung slightly ajar, allowing a glimpse into the devastation that lay beyond.

"When I opened the door I saw my mother standing in the kitchen. I was glad; I thought her back had gotten better." Flik watched as Viktor curled his hands into painfully tight fists. "I couldn't even defend myself when she came at me."

Flik moved closer to him, placing one hand over the other man's arm. Viktor didn't want to be telling this story, and Flik didn't want to be hearing it. They shouldn't be here--it wasn't good for either of them. "That's enough," he said gently. "Let's go."

Viktor turned, almost looking ready to agree with him, when a monstrous groan came from the decimated porch. Both men whipped around, swords half unsheathed.

"But, brother," said the man standing there, "you've only just returned."

Viktor blanched, making a grab for Flik's wrist. The larger man's grip tightened, unwittingly grinding the small bones together as the unknown man smiled down at them. Flik fought not to cry out.

"Wil..." Viktor choked. He was just as he had been nine years ago: not a day over sixteen, standing tall like he had every right to be alive. The hands that were resting easily on the banister didn't bear any sores from fending off his mother and grandmother, and that pointed, smiling face wasn't the ruin that it had been when Viktor had last seen him. His brother's dark eyes sparkled even in the dying light... it was just like he was coming home from South Window...

"Welcome home, Viktor." Wil smiled, a row of white, shiny teeth appearing over his full bottom lip.

As suddenly as Wil had appeared, Viktor's face darkened, drawing his sword. Flik, catching on quickly, readied his own weapon. Wil only ran a hand through his longish black hair, laughing.

"Oh, put it away," he said, "what have I done to you?" His smile was as bright as ever as he turned to Flik. "Nice to meet you, I'm Wil, Viktor's brother."

"Don't!" Viktor barked. Whether he was talking to Wil or to Flik was uncertain. As it was, Flik had no idea what was going on. Viktor had a brother...? He knew where all the looks had gone in the family. Wil was pointy--sprightly--utterly unappealing. And yet, there was something odd about him; his mouth...

"I'm just trying to get better acquainted! What's your name?" The man that claimed to be Viktor's brother called out to Flik. Viktor's arm shot out, protecting the younger man from gods knew what.

"What are you?" The fierce growl of Viktor's voice resounded in the bleak passage, echoing again and again before falling to a silent death. Flik watched with growing unease as Wil's expression changed. His cheerful welcoming was replaced with cold fury--and yet, his face never moved. It was like Flik could feel it vibrating in the air around him. The man's grin, enervating before, caused the hairs on the back of his neck to rise.

"Your brother. The one you killed. Surely you remember." Flik was mesmerized by the opening and closing of Wil's mouth, the way the pink of his tongue slipped back and over the line of his teeth. Flik took a step forward.

Viktor threw Flik backwards before he was aware of what he'd done. More than a few cobblestones came loose as the blue-clad man fell to the street with a clatter.

"You'll not have him, Neclord," snapped Viktor, nudging Flik to stand without turning away from his dead brother.

"How many times do I have to say it? I'm Wil. You pushed me down the stairs when I was four and told Mom that I tripped," the creature crossed his arms over his chest, gazed down Viktor with a challenging look in his eye. "You lost your virginity with Daisy's best friend, and when she found out about it, she wouldn't talk to you for months."

Viktor remained silent for a long time. His eyes flashed as Wil's smile widened even further. Finally, Viktor relaxed, lowering his sword almost carelessly. Flik saw through the easy charade--the rigid line of the older man's back gave him away. If Viktor got anymore tense his body would snap.

"I have no problem killing you again, Wil. You're already dead, this time."

Wil responded only by taking a step back, further into the house. A line marked his brow; his full lower lip stuck out in what could have been petulance or fear. But when Wil didn't say anything, Viktor turned slowly, cautiously, to Flik. "Go. We're leaving," said Viktor. He sheathed his sword with one short motion. "If it is what it says it is, it can't leave the house."

The other man looked doubtful, bothered by the idea of turning his back to Wil, and was relieved when Viktor shortly joined him. It felt wrong, retreating from the enemy. He spared a backward glance at the specter, and was horrified as Wil waved him goodbye. As he walked away, he couldn't help but wonder why the creature was letting them go...what Viktor said just seemed too unreal to possibly be true. But nevertheless, Wil made no move from the ruin of the porch, to stop them or otherwise.

It didn't sit well with Flik: that couldn't be the end of it. The hard set of Viktor's jaw told him that his assumption was quite correct--the end of this matter wouldn't come to an end, at least not for Viktor, for a very long, long time. Even as Flik watched, Viktor was agonizing over whatever had happened all those years ago.

What had happened...? Flik cast an unsure glance at his partner. Now was not the time, nor the place to discuss this. Viktor needed to get out of here, even more than Flik wanted to be. This place wasn't...healthy for him, Flik decided shakily.

The exit of North Window appeared like a shining beacon in the dark. As they passed over the threshold and into the wide world, Flik felt a giant weight being lifted off his chest--he could breathe again. His own relief must have been a mere shadow of Viktor's; however, the man did not glance over his shoulder as Flik had so frequently done, nor did he slow down. Viktor ran from North Window as if it was on fire, and Flik was closely on his heels.

It was another hour before Viktor stopped, the grueling pace he'd set from his former hometown making his tired feet scream. He knew that Flik must have been hurting just as bad--if not worse--but the younger man hadn't uttered a word since they'd left, much less opened his mouth to complain. Viktor was silently thankful. What he'd seen back there, what he'd heard...it was all too much. His family was dead--is dead. Viktor hadn't heard Wil's voice in years; he had forgotten what it sounded like. Though he didn't recall Wil being so bitter or so...dead.

Damn that Neclord! This was his doing, Viktor knew it. He wasn't sure how, but...who else would even know who Wil was? No one survived; no one but him. And North Window used to be such a tight-knit community...

Neclord had taken everything from him except his memories, and now sought to finish the job, apparently. It wasn't enough that Viktor's last memories of his brother were of the boy writhing in agony, begging for him to end it. It wasn't enough that the first person Viktor had ever killed was his little brother. Those memories would never leave him; when he took his final breath he knew he would be able to feel the ease with which his blade had pierced Wil's already decimated flesh, would be able to see his thin frame shudder with unbearable pain...

But Wil had always been Wil. He'd never been changed into one of those things like his mother and grandmother. The image Viktor carried of Wil had always been one of unsullied humanity, but no longer. Viktor had seen what he'd become--rather, what he'd been made to become. Wil wasn't his little brother anymore. He was...

...just another tool.

Flik watched as a myriad of emotions played over Viktor's face, uncomfortable, but unwilling to break the silence. Suppose Viktor resented his presence. Would things have played out differently if Flik weren't here? He shook his head, trying in vain to get his thoughts straightened out. It didn't matter. He was there, and now Viktor needed him to be here. It wasn't Flik's dead brother they'd seen in North Window; his own wants and needs weren't priority at the moment.

Throwing his pack on the ground, Flik approached Viktor cautiously. The man was in a dangerous mood, and although Flik didn't think Viktor would ever try and hurt him, sneaking up on him would probably be a bad idea.

"Viktor, this is far enough. Let's just camp here," said Flik quietly. North Window was a mere dot on the horizon, much too far away for them to be in any physical danger from it. He could still feel its presence, though, dead and frighteningly blank in the back of his mind. And if Flik was still aware of it, Viktor must have been able to sense it. But there was nothing they could do--night had almost fallen and they could walk no further.

The older of the two men agreed with a grunt. Without any words they set to work establishing a camp, setting their bedrolls around a small but growing fire. After a few seconds, Flik moved his bedroll, positioning it beside Viktor's instead of across the fire. He knew instinctively that it was the right thing to do--that it was what they both needed tonight. Viktor smiled at him wearily, the hell that the day had been showing clearly on his strong features.

They ate stale bread and what little dried beef they had left, neither saying much. Only when Viktor had choked down the last of his food did he say anything.

"I never told you about Wil, did I?" He asked; his dark eyes reflecting the dancing flame. Flik set his own food down and shook his head.

"I didn't even know you had a brother," he responded. With a tired groan he reached around to remove his cape and then his belt. His boots were next, and all of his discarded items were thrown into a heap beside the fire. Flik settled back with a sigh of relief and almost-comfort.

"He was such a stupid kid." Viktor released a small chuckle as Flik looked up, shocked. After removing his own boots and belt, the larger man joined his partner, stretched out on the ground. "Really," Viktor continued, "every time I'd tell him not to do something, he'd immediately go do it. But he never wasted an opportunity to tell on me if I got in trouble."

Flik watched the stars emerge as he listened. "And I'm sure that was a common occurrence," he said dryly. He rested his head on a propped elbow so he could look at Viktor while he was speaking.

Viktor shrugged in response to Flik's last comment. "I never got away with anything because of that kid." He fell silent for a moment, then snorted. "I remember once I spent all day at the lake trying to catch a fish to put in Daisy's bed--"

"That's horrible," Flik interrupted, smiling despite himself.

"I know," Viktor replied with a dubious smile of his own. "But Wil told my mother and she made me cook that night." The large man barely paused for breath before continuing on. "Another time, when we were really young, he'd done something to make me really angry--I don't remember what, now, but I tied him to the tree behind our house--"

Viktor stopped, catching the horrified look on Flik's face. "You never grew up with siblings, Flik; you don't know what it's like." He smiled widely, leaning over the other man. "It's like you're always at war--but at night your enemy is begging you to tell him stories before bed. It's...hard to explain."

Flik gazed upwards, saddened by Viktor's wistful happiness. He'd never felt anything like what Viktor was describing, but which was better? To have it and then have it torn away so painfully or to never have possessed it at all? With a situation like this, Flik was almost appreciative of his own painful history. Almost.

"Wil was too young when our father died; he didn't remember anything about him. He only ever had Mother and me." Viktor chuckled bitterly, looking away. "Poor kid, he must have looked up to me a lot."

The younger man leaned forward, reaching out to hold the strong curve of Viktor's jaw with his hand. The fond memory that was present in the man only a moment before had vanished, revealing a tired sorrow.

"I know it doesn't mean much now, but I'm sorry for what happened to you and your family. I wish that it never happened."

Viktor only sighed heavily, pulling Flik to him. "I know," he said. "I know you do."