B.T.I

That was when it began. BTI; Before The Incident. Well, not really, it was more like During The Incident, because it had been right there. In the midst of the insanity and the ringing in their ears because of the explosion in the stranger's house and the blood that coated Martin's broken leg.

Cary had listened dumbly to Joe's plan, his voice fast and strong and confident for the first time in his life. All he could think was that they might actually die down here, trying to rescue this stupid girl that Joe had a stupid crush on and because he was Joe-freakin'-Lamb he was willing to bet his life on getting her out. And they'd followed him. The others more reluctantly than Cary. Cary had stood first, Cary had stuck his neck out the furthest because Cary Adams would follow Joseph Lamb into Hell, unquestioning and at a flat sprint.

Staring at the other boy, for the first time Cary let his less-than-appropriate thoughts for his best friend run unrestrained. It killed him inside, these thoughts; thirteen year old boys were not supposed to think about their very male friends like this.

He drank in that amazing steel blue of his eyes, the way they burned, the sheen of his lips and the flash of his teeth as he spoke quickly in that voice that never failed to lull Cary to sleep when they pulled monster-movie all-nighters.

"Cary? Did you hear me?" Joe demanded breathlessly.

Gritting his teeth, Cary nodded quickly. Joe's face was flushed with terror and determination in the strange light that the sparkler in his hand and the sheen from the Visitor's cavern made. Joe made to stand and run, but Cary suddenly grabbed his arm, pulling him back down behind their outcrop.

"Cary, what? I've got to get to Alice-"

"I know, I know, b-but I gotta tell you something, okay?"

"It can wait-"

"No!-" the blonde clutched his arm almost painfully.

"-No, i-if, well-look, if we both get out of this alive, Joe, you gotta promise me that you'll forget all about this because it is really, really bad and-"

"Spit it out, Cary, it's okay"

Trust Joe to be reassuring when he was half out of his mind with terror and worry and a million other emotions too completely intense to name, not in the least was something like confidence. Trust Joe to look at Cary with those wide, gentle eyes and clasp his own unsteady hand over Cary's. He squeezed his smaller friend's hand, still holding onto his arm as if for dear life. Cary inhaled sharply.

"Shit, Joe, it's not okay. It's really not, but, but we could die and I-I just can't anymore" with this desperate sort of confession blurted out, Cary rushed forward and kissed Joe solidly on the lips. Just as quickly, he withdrew. He'd split the corner of his lip against the biting metal of his braces he'd kissed the other boy so hard, but at that moment he didn't give a damn. Even if he died, he'd own Joe Lamb's first kiss. He could damn well die the happiest, sickest man on earth.

For a moment, Cary thought he must have died already without realising it, or at least somehow have fallen asleep because Joe was reaching forward and roughly erasing the crimson bubble in the corner of his mouth with his thumb before surging forward and kissing him again! Cary gasped and suddenly he could taste Joe against his tongue. His head spun when the warm, soft, insistent mouth was gone again and Joe leaned back, apparently surveying his work.

"This conversation isn't over" he ordered, all business again.

"Don't forget!" with that he was gone, kicking up the dust under his scrambling Converses. For a heartbeat, Cary couldn't move. He was utterly frozen with shock and anticipation and pure, unadulterated joy because Joe-freaking-Lamb had kissed him! He wasn't sick, he wasn't a freak. He was just a boy who liked-Hell, who was he kidding? He was two steps from falling in love with-another boy.

There was a roar that shook the stones around Cary, ripping cloud 9 out from under his feet and dumping him back here, where the air smelt like heat and electricity and blood and dirt. Shaking himself, Cary threw himself into the distraction, connecting fuses in a way he never would have before. The difference was that Joe had kissed him back and didn't want to just forget about it; "This conversation isn't over!" he'd said.

Cary couldn't be content with just dying with Joe's first kiss. He wanted to be his second, his third and his last. And he couldn't do that if he was dead.

It seemed that fate was out to threaten his chances of a long life by Joe Lamb's side; his lighter, the one he'd stolen from his old man when he was three and never given it back, wouldn't light. It had never not lit on the first go, not once. After the second attempt, his fingers were shaking so badly he knew why the damn thing wasn't catching.

Jesus Christ, it's Joe, it's JOE! Please light! Pleasepleasepleaseplease-

Then it did.

Then the creature was behind him, it's long, thundering lope vibrating against Cary's heels as he ran like he'd never done before. Careening into another tunnel, he had never been more happy to almost run slap-bang into Alice Dainard before in his life. Because Alice meant Joe and Joe was there, looking at him, beautiful and alive.

"What are you doing here? I told you to leave!" he yelled, furious with worry and Cary's heart lurched because that tang of sweat and dirt and smoke and something sweeter that he would forever associate with the sweaty, pale boy before him was still against his lips, tattooed there.

So they'd run and eventually they'd even survived, even though that possibility looked pretty far-fetched for a while there.

Cary often thought about the moment they stood backed against the wall and the way Joe had spread-eagled himself in front of him and Alice, a willing sacrifice for the creature roaring before them, saliva dripping from its maw. Maybe it was his imagination, some phantom-sensation supplied to him by his terror-addled mind, but had Joe really tightened a hand across Cary's ribs, a fist forming in his torn t-shirt, like he never wanted to let him go?

Standing in the middle of the street, looking up, Cary didn't even remember saying anything although in retrospect he might of said holy shit as he looked up at the Visitor's ship. He'd walked forward without even really meaning to, his eyes on the spectacle above him. For a moment he dropped his eyes to look at Joe and to his shocked elation, Joe's left hand was stretched back behind himself, reaching for Cary. Their eyes met over Joe's shoulder as Cary's own hand hesitantly met the dark-haired boy's. Before Cary had a chance to reconsider, Joe's fingers were tightly wrapped in his.

And that made everything okay.