Title: La Morte

Author: Luminar AKA Sean Crone

Disclaimers: Any resemblance that Todd has to Duo from Gundam Wing is purely coincidental…okay, so it's not! There, you happy? I do not own Duo or Victor Von Doom OR manic panic.( But I just gave them a plug, so I'll be expecting a large multicolored assortment on my doorstep when I get home Monday. ^-^)

Special Thanks to: Brandi, Brandy, Angela, Amanda/Todd, Hogan, Bishop, Carlos Josh, and Aaron. Aaron you are my rock, and I don't think I could make it through the day without you. Even though you're not real and even if you were, I'm not gay. NOT gay!

Warnings: The following may contain hints of yaoi, shonen ai, and/or fluff. Man, that Author sure is a hypocrite! Geez!

Midnight. On a dock by the sea. A young boy sits with his knees pulled up to his chest, idly running a feather back and forth over his cheek. Warm. Soft. Straight. The feather was all the things the boy wanted to be, yet never could.

The feather was black, as black as the boy's highlighted hair or the spiked leather choker at his throat. As black as the virus that churned through his blood. As black as the smoke that rolled off of the pyre on the beach where his father's body was burning. As black as his soul.

Black was the boy's favorite color. One would assume this was typical of a goth. They were all about death and darkness any ways, right? On the contrary; his favorite color had been green before. As green as the sea. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

As green as the sea, his mother's eyes had been. The kind of green you didn't normally see. Todd had only ever seen it once before. The platinum of the picture frame accentuated them well, he thought. Silvery white had always been his mother's color.

Everything in the room was either green, silver, or white. That's how his mother had wanted it when she died. As people filed past the casket to pay their final respects they tried to comfort Todd or cajole him into socializing with the other children his age. Todd didn't answer them, he didn't look at them, he didn't even really hear them. He just stared fixedly at the portrait that he had placed on the coffin before the wake had begun.

Todd wasn't afraid to admit that he had cried. In fact he had cried quite often after it happened, almost for an entire week. He had cried until his father had come into his room and beat shit out of him until all Todd could do was lie on his side trying to catch his breath. Afterwards his father had told him that real men didn't cry. He said the only people who cried were women, babies, and fags. Therefore, Todd was acting like a fag, because he obviously wasn't a baby or a woman. If Todd wanted to act like a whiny little queer, he'd said, then he would give him something to cry about.

It was all Todd could do to hold back the tears. This was too much for a fourteen year old boy to handle. First his mother had died and now his father a man who had always been smiling when she was alive, had started to beat him. Why?

It didn't take long to find the reason for his father's behavior. Over the next few days the composition of the garbage can changed from mostly banana peels and dried out bouquets from sympathizers to mostly empty bottles. Jack Daniels, beer, gin: none of that mattered. It all did the same thing to Mr. Richardson. It transformed him from the man Todd had called 'Daddy' since he was one and half years old into an abusive drunk. A horrible pattern soon formed.

As soon as Todd got home from school he would go into his room and lock the door. At precisely five PM his father came home. The clunking of his feet up the stairs and the clinking of glass could be heard from above and then an hour of silence took hold.

Then at ten PM his father would awake and begin to stagger around the room across the hall. Pretty soon he would be at Todd's door, pounding on it and demanding to know why Todd hadn't "purtied himself up for his old man." After that he would move on to accusing Todd of never loving him and blaming him for his wife's death. At about midnight Todd would either cry himself to sleep or sneak out of the house to go to his friend Carter's house. Carter would let him in without question.

Most people would say that Carter should have tried to help and that he wasn't a true friend because he wasn't concerned. Todd was such good friends with Carter because he DIDN'T ask. Carter respected Todd's privacy and just figured that Todd would tell him about it when and if he felt like it. Maybe some day. Right now Todd was content to stare into the black-light confusion that was Carter's room and talk.

One Friday, three week's after his mother, Todd found himself knocking on Carter's window at two in the morning. It was pitch black in the oak tree where Todd was perched and blacker still in Carter's room. Yet, as always, when the black curtains were drawn aside, Carter was wide awake. Apparently he was dying his hair because he was fully clothed, wearing a shower cap, and carrying around an open bottle of Manic Panic.

"What's up bro'?" Carter inquired, turning one yellow cat's eye on him.

"The usual." Todd replied, "Can I stay here again this weekend?"

"Sure thing. Step into my lair of darkness! Mwuhahahahaha!!!"

"Thanks." Todd said, hopping across the divide and in through the window.

When Todd turned back to Carter the latter was busy locking the window and pulling curtains closed again.

"So, what color are you doing it this time?" Todd asked.

"Mood Indigo with electric lemon streaks." Carter quickly answered.

"Niiiiicce." Todd drew the word out as if hissing it.

Another reason Todd and Carter got along was because they were nothing alike. Well, that's not true. They were both boys and fellow outcasts, but that was where the similarity ended. Where Todd was restricted, Cater was open. Carter had a loving family, all Todd had was his bastard of a father. Carter was atheist, where Todd had always worn a golden cross his mother had given him at his confirmation. Todd was stylish, Carter was Goth. They were friends because no one else would be their friends. Fate just works that way sometimes.

"So when am I gonna get you to dye your hair?" Carter queried, "You've got so much of it to experiment with. God, I'm itching all over just thinking about what I could do with all of that!"

Todd instinctively grabbed his ponytail to make sure it was still there and shook his head violently.

"No freaking way! You're not touching my hair with any of that chemical crap! I'll end up going bald or something" Todd protested.

A wave of sheer violence washed over Carter's features and he clenched his fists.

" Dammit!!!" Carter nearly screamed, "How many freaking times do I have to tell people this! YOU CAN NOT GO BALD FROM DYING YOUR HAIR!! It's already dead! It's freakin' impossible!"

"How can you say that? Your hair's already thinning!" Todd shot back.

"Well, duh! I've only bleached it, like, five times! It's gonna be thin naturally. But a soon as I let it grow out again it'll be as thick as ever." Carter explained

"Oh." was Todd's only answer.

"So….?"

"So what?"

"Can I do it?"

"No! I just said that!"

"Just a couple of little streaks not the whole thing!" Carter said shaking his head emphatically.

"No and that's final!"

One hour later….

"How much longer do I have to keep this crap in?" Todd asked, his violet-blue eyes pleading with the feline eyes of his friend.

"Ninety minutes for Dark Brown to Black hair. You've had it on for about thirty so I'd say……another hour should do it."

"Well did it change colors at all yet?"

"It's orange, if that's what you mean."

"Orange?! ORANGE?!?!?!" Todd shrieked, "You tricked me!"

"What do you mean, 'tricked you'?" Carter queried incredulously.

"You knew that if I decided I didn't want to do this halfway through I'd have to go through with it anyway!" Todd accused.

"You can still stop now if you wanna run around school with orange streaks in your hair!" Carter snorted.

"I heard that! Like blue's gonna be much better!"

"What are you talking about?! This is gonna kick ass!"

"Whatever you say. God, my mom would kill me if she…if she was," Todd broke off in a sob. His violet-blue eyes were glistening with tears when he twisted around in his chair to face Carter.

"Dude, don't cry. It's, like, okay man. Don't cry." Carter patted Todd comfortingly on the shoulder.

tbc