Don't own them.  Never will own them.  Such is life.

I didn't even try with the accents.  I'm inept with such things.

Thirteen Conversations

At the end of days, at the end of time.
When the Sun burns out will any of this matter.        

            Snitch watches them from his bunk. 

            They come in and undress, thinking the room is empty.  And Snitch watches as Race undresses the other and then lays him down on the bed.

            Snitch watches as their lips blesses each others' skin and their mouths sing songs of faith and devotion.  And eventually they part, both silent and icy.  Their eyes meet and they nod at each other.

            At one moment after the other boy exited the room, Snitch stopped Race and asked him what he really wanted.

            And Race smiled.  "What does everyone want?  Life, love, happiness."

            Snitch did not understand.  He did not see life or love or happiness.  He just saw black.  "Are you happy?"

            "I want nothing other than to be happy."

Who will be there to remember who we were?
Who will be there to know that any of this had meaning for us?


            Snitch feels Skittery's stare from across the room.  He feels the heat and the want in those powerful eyes, and yet at the same time, he feels absolutely nothing. 

            Sometimes their eyes would meet and Skittery would jolt as if feeling a sort of electric shock.  Snitch would just stare back.  He felt nothing.

            And yet, Snitch would find himself allowing Skittery to take his lips and revel in his body. 

            "You're so cold," Skittery would whisper.  "You're always so cold.  It almost hurts to touch you."

            Snitch would not reply, just turn on his side.

            Another whisper.  "What do you feel when we're together?"

            There is never an answer.

And in retrospect I'll say we've done no wrong.
Who are we to judge what is right and what has purpose for us?

            "Do you love him?" 

            Race glances up with an odd look on his space.  "Do I love who?"

            Snitch shrugs.  "Spot.  You fuck him.  Do you love him?

            "Maybe, maybe not.  We're only seventeen you know."

            "You said you wanted love."

            "You know, Snitchy, there are many different kinds of love.  Everyone loves someone in some kind of way."

            "I don't."

            Race raises his eyebrows.

            "Love doesn't exist, Race.  It never has."

            "Don't you love Skitts?"

            "Not like you love Spot."

            "He loves you, you know."

            "It doesn't really matter."

With designs upon ourselves to do no wrong,
running wild unaware of what might come of us.

            Snitch watches. 

            He watches as Jack pushes Davey against a wall.  He watches as they kiss passionately. 

            He only looks away when suddenly they stop kissing and touching and both lean forward and hold each other close.  Snitch knows that they stare at each other with love in their eyes.  He can see without looking that they are peaceful. 

            Later he confronts Jack.  "How much do you love him?"

            Jack looks startled but blushes, like a schoolgirl with a crush.  "I love him more than anything else."

            "Why do you love him?"

            "Why do you love Skitts?  It's indescribable man."

            Snitch frowns.  "I wouldn't know."  He pauses for a moment.  "Would you do anything for him?"

            "Always." 

            But afterwards he looks uncomfortable and turns away.

The Sun was born, so it shall die,
so only shadows comfort me.

            Skittery holds him from behind, one strong arm wrapped snuggly around his waist.

            "Snitch, you still awake?"

            Snitch turns.  "What do you want?"

            "I love you."  His voice is soft and sweet.

            "You don't know what love is.  You're only seventeen."

            Snitch can feel as Skittery rapidly shakes his head.  "No, no I know I love you.  I love you more than life itself."

            "You cannot love me.  Love is overrated."

            Skittery shudders.  "You're always so cold Snitch.  Always so damn cold."

 I know in darkness I will find you giving up inside like me.
Each day shall end as it begins

            Jack leaves on a Tuesday morning.

            Snitch sells his papes near the train station and stops by when he notices Jack.

            "So you won't do everything for him."

            "How do you know this isn't what he wants?"

            "I don't think anybody wants you to leave."

            "Do you not want me to leave?"

            Snitch frowns.  "I don't really care."

            For a moment hurt clouds Jack's face.  And then he smiled.  "You're so fucking cold, Snitch.  If you turn away from everyone, soon there will be no one left."

            "Is the only way to achieve happiness through other people?"

            Jack sighs.  "Ask me to stay, Snitch.  Don't let me do something this stupid."

            Snitch doesn't answer.

            Jack walks away.

And though you're far away from me
I know in darkness I will find you giving up inside like me

            Spot howls as he grasps Race's hand.  He screams and pleads. 

            Race lies on the ground, a pool of blood forming around his limp body.  He does not react, just stares at Spot with a sort of morbid curiosity.

            Someone grabs Snitch's shoulder.  "You're the fastest," Someone shouts.  "Go get help."  He ignores him.

            Snitch knells next to Race.  "Do you love him?"

            Race coughs up blood and Spot screams Snitch to shut up.  

            "Do you love him?"  Snitch repeats.

            Spot doesn't cry as Race attempts to smile and chokes on his own blood.  "Y-Yes..."

            His grip on Spot's hand loosens and his breath dies low.  And suddenly everything is silent. 

            Spot still does not cry.  He just looks up at Snitch, his eyes empty.  And he turns and walks away.

            He walks straight into Brooklyn, toward the piers, and when he reaches the end, he continues walking.

            His boys wait for him to swim back up to the surface of the water. 

            He never does.

Without a thought I will see everything eternal,
forget that once we were just dust from heavens far.

            Snitch waits all evening for Race and Spot to enter the room, but the door remains untouched.

            He walks to the alleyway, but Davey just stands there alone, looking lonely.

            And when he returns, Skittery takes him into his arms and pulls him into bed.

            They lie there together for hours.

            "What is happiness?"  Snitch asks.

            Skittery tightens his arms around Snitch's middle.  "This is happiness."

            Snitch shook his head. 

            He thinks of Race and Spot. 

            He thinks of Jack and Davey. 

A tear slides down his cheek. 

            "No, this is death."

As we were forged we shall return, perhaps some day.
I will remember you and wonder who we were.

End.

This is what happens when I watch movies.  The song used, by the way, is Further by VNV Nation.  British industrial music makes me happy.  Although everyone thinks it is weird, I believe it wonderful.  The title is shamelessly stolen from the movie Thirteen Conversations About One Thing.  ...however there aren't thirteen conversations here.  So this fic is imperfect.  Oh well, it is probably imperfect anyways.  go figure.

but that is not important, yay for skittery/snitch!  maybe someday, I'll envision their adorable relationship as a happy one.  however at the moment, I rather like emotionally dead Snitch.  I think he's cute. 

R&R please