Help me.
Please, I just need a friend. Someone to play with, someone to keep me safe, someone who doesn't hurt me.
I wish to not be so lonely any more.
The sky was falling, and the little boy couldn't hang on. He hurtled through the cold void, curled up in a tight ball, as the words reached his ears. Someone was watching, someone was pleading to him. He had no name, he had no home; he was born of a child's need, called into existence by a quiet wish in the darkness of the night.
He was hurtling toward the voice.
When he came to his senses, he was looking up into the dark black eyes of another boy, bundled up against the winter air.
"Are you hurt?"
The little star stood up on virgin legs and gripped the edge of the crater. "I don't think so…" He gave the boy a smile. "Do you have a name?"
"Yes! I'm James! What about you?"
He shook his head, sending glitter falling from his golden hair. "I don't have a name."
"Where did you come from?"
One small, glowing finger gestured to the sky.
"Why?"
"Because you asked for a friend." His blue eyes were warm and inviting, innocent as the weight of his words sank in. James gave him a look of wonder, his dark eyes widening.
"Come inside. You have to hide, though, if anyone comes. I don't think they'd like having another boy in the house." James laced their fingers together and led him into the run-down house. The two young boys made their way up the stairs and into James' tiny bedroom. "Sorry it's, um, small," he whispered, peeking around the star and staring at his shimmering trail of footprints.
"I like it."
"What am I going to call you?"
"... What do you mean?"
James led him over to the bed. "You need a name. Um… something nice. Something special."
The little star hopped up beside him. "How about…" He looked around the room and furrowed his brow. There was a ramshackle bookshelf against the wall, with five well-worn books on the shelves. He squinted his eyes.
"What about… John?"
James giggled. "Not quite as special as I expected, but it fits. John." He looked at the glowing boy and frowned. "... Aren't you cold, John? You're not wearing any clothes."
"Oh, I'm fine. I'm actually warm." He squeezed James' hand. "See?" His skin was warm, very warm, and comforting. John smiled. "Should we play? I can do tricks. Want to see?" He let go of James and cupped his palms together. "Come on, don't be shy…" The space within his hands began to fill with a soft orange glow. "Starlight," he explained, peeking up at James. "You can touch it, it's safe…"
James reached forward and ran his hands through the little ball of light. "Oh! It tickles!"
John giggled. "That's good. It likes you." I like you too.
The little boy that fell from the sky showed him the little clouds he could craft and the way he could fly. He showed James how he could make the starlight into liquid and paint it onto his skin. He showed him how brightly he could shine when the nights got scary. James showed John his rabbit, and his books, and the little flower he'd snuck between the pages of Pride and Prejudice a few days earlier. He didn't have much, but everything fascinated John. He could see how proud James was of his ability to read, so as the night began to leave the sky they curled up under the threadbare blankets and James began to recite words from his little dictionary to the fallen star.
When the sun peeked through the heavy clouds, he tucked it under his pillow and sat up. "You need to hide," James whispered. "If they find you here…"
"Oh," John replied, his light dimming a little in his disappointment. "Where will I go?"
"There's a closet, here, come on!" James took the boy's hand and let him to the cracked wooden door. "Just cover your ears, okay? If… if things get loud, cover your ears. And stay here until I get you. Okay, John?"
"I… okay." His rules were weird. John wasn't sure he liked them.
"You just… hide. And then I come find you. And then you get a prize! Okay? Please, John…"
John squeezed his hand. "Okay. It's a game! I hide, until you find me. Just… do you promise you'll find me?"
"I promise, John. I'll find you."
He smiled at James and stepped back into the closet. "Sleep well, James."
"You too." James smiled back and closed the door.
And John was alone.
Sometimes there was screaming. John would cover his ears and try not to cry- making a sound was against the rules of their hiding game. Sometimes tears shone in James' eyes when he came to collect him. Sometimes he was bruised, sometimes naked, sometimes unable to speak for hours. The very first time, the night John fell, he had opened the closet with a black eye and a split lip.
"James!" John gasped, his light growing brighter. "Let me help, please!"
James shook his head. "No, John. There's… It's fine, I'm fine." There were tears in his eyes.
"It's okay. I can make it better. I promise." He floated close to the injured boy. "Close your eyes. I'm… I'm shy."
"... Are you going to hurt me?" James whispered.
"I will never hurt you, James. Never ever. I swear."
James swallowed and closed his eyes. "O-okay."
John leaned in and pressed his lips against the boy's soft lashes. The dark bruise began to fade as warmth spread across James' skin. He pulled back with a smile. Now… It was innocent. It was kind. He kissed James' cut, their mouths pressed together chastely. The boys cheeks reddened as he opened his eyes, meeting John's.
Oh.
He floated down to the ground and smiled shyly. "See? I fixed it. I made it better."
James peeked up at him, his eyes wide with wonder. "You… kissed me."
"I healed your ouches."
Lip-shaped dust glittered where his mouth touched the boy's skin. It made his earth-coloured eyes glow a bright amber colour.
"You should be a doctor when you grow up," he whispered, "if you stay that long."
"Will other people try to hurt me if they see me? Because that would make it hard to be a doctor."
James managed a wet chuckle. "Good point. You can be my doctor, then." He held out his hand. John took it eagerly and squeezed.
"Of course. Your doctor."
Nothing prepared John for the Bad Night. The night everything changed. John and James played every day, out by the creek, out in the grass, under the bed, everywhere they could safely go. For a few weeks, the fighting continued- James would come to John crying, bleeding, sometimes without a single scratch on him. The little star boy never asked what was wrong, but he would ask where it hurt. James would point to a spot on his chest, or his head, for John to kiss better. When they got the chance, they curled up together on the bed, beneath his blankets once more. John's light filled the little area, making a world just for them.
And no one bothered them.
Until The Grownup came in one evening, The Monster, reeking of booze and with ice in his eyes. John was tucked in the closet, but the sound… he couldn't block out the sound of the screamed obscenities, of James' strangled sobs, of the man's twisted commands.
"Please! Please, I've been good, don't! You're hurting me! Stop!"
John started to shake. The warm golden light around him turned redder with each passing second.
He was a good, kind little star. He was made just for James, just to heal him, to help him, and he needed him. He needed him now.
John placed a hand on the door and it burst into flame, falling away to ash before him.
"John, no! Hide! He'll-"
James looked up at him from the bed, naked and bleeding from welts on his back.
"John… what…"
"Stars are made of gas and heat," John said, something dangerous in his tone. "Stars burn." He floated toward the man and gripped his jaw, forcing him away from James. "You. You will never touch this boy, or any other, ever again." The light radiating from his body was a deep orange, the heat blistering. He was mad, so angry, so furious that anyone would hurt his best friend, and he was having a hard time controlling it. It's hard to be afraid when being herded by a tiny glowing child, but the man Jim lived with looked terrified. His skin was starting to blister.
"James. Run. Get outside, please!" He listened to the boy's footsteps as he ran out of the room, pausing only to grab some clothes. The moment the back door banged open, John closed his eyes.
He let go of the careful control he'd been keeping on himself.
Flames engulfed the run-down home.
"JOHN! John, NO! JOHN!" James screamed for him, pleaded with him to be safe, until his throat was raw and hoarse. Time stilled as he watched the blaze for any sign of movement.
"John…"
Finally a soft gold glow parted the flames. John, perfectly fine, cradling a small stuffed rabbit in his arms.
"I couldn't leave him behind, I know how much you love him… I'm sorry, about the… James, he was hurting you! He's been hurting you all along and I… I had to stop him, I had to…"
James threw his arms around John's neck and pulled him close. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for saving me…"
"That's what friends do. I'll always protect you."
"What are we, where are we gonna live now? How are we going to eat?"
John smiled gently. "I'll find you a new home. A loving home. A home where we're safe."
"Promise?"
The little star took James in his arms and flew away from the fire. "I promise."
