Warnings: Slash
Disclaimer: Not mine
A/N: So, this chapter came out a bit late, but really, it's worth it; I've got it betaed! The sweet Becky Greenleaf helps me out with the damn language among other things and she's just awesome! it must be one hell of a job, considering my sometimes pretty confusing writing, but she has done a wonderful job!
Therefore, this chapter is dedicated to her! Thanks honey!
And as for all of you; THANK YOU! I never imagined having this many reviewers! You rock! I love it when you point out mistakes and it really helps me write better! (At least a tiny bit, seeing as I'm pretty dense like that... Heh!)
The next chapter shall be ready for betaing by the end of next week hopefully, so until I get it back and post it;
Enjoy yourselves!
The Solitude of Heart
Chapter Seven
"Nightmares"
"You're gonna love this."
Griffin raised a delicate brow before throwing the cloth away, proceeding with grabbing the bandages he had fetched from the medication-locker earlier. Armed with a clean cotton wipe, he began to attack the open cuts again.
"Really?"
David could not refrain from chuckling. "Yeah. You'll be thrilled."
He paused, wincing a little when the other man started to drown his wounds in antiseptics once more.
"Remember what you said about the Paladins attacking the other Jumpers before us?"
A frown. "Yes?"
"Well... You were right."
"Why the fuck are you doing this?"
A mocking smile cruelly twisted onto his mother's lips. A smile that he figured to be somewhat fake, as if she was forcing it to appear. She bent down to his level and grabbed his hair, forcing his head up from the floor.
"Why I'm doing this?" She growled and threw another punch, making him groan in pain when it collided with his abdomen. "Because I have to son! I follow orders and unlike you I try to avoid trouble."
Feeling the air fill his lungs once more, the Jumper gritted his teeth. "So you'd kill your own child just to avoid trouble?" The words came out harsh, edged a barely disguised hurt. "How very honorable of you!"
She punched him again and this time, his insides curled at the pain. He felt like throwing up, but hell if he was going to puke in front of her. That would just make her victory bigger.
"How dare you speak of honor?" Anger; he could hear its tremor in her voice. Her tone was reproachful and every single syllable quivered with a pent-up rage. The grip on his hair tightened.
"You have absolutely no right to judge me David! And whatever you might feel about this, it can't be helped that I am a Paladin and you a Jumper!" She brought the knife to his throat again and he could feel how it sunk into his flesh, causing blood to flow in small, heated rivers down his skin.
"So that's it, huh?" He choked out, his vision blurry from the pain the knife brought along, "you're gonna kill me. Just like that?"
He scowled inwardly and thought sardonically, how ironic. He was about to be killed by his own mother, the one who had indeed provided him with a chance to live. He guessed, in a twisted part of his mind, it was her right after all. She had given him life and now, she was taking it away. It was as simple as that.
David swallowed, feeling the icy metal sinking further into his skin, making dots of lightning dance before his eyes. He did not want to die. He knew that now, and with a rising panic he fought the urge to scream. There was no way he was getting out of this one. He was about to die and that was the harsh and unyielding truth.
"There are always consequences." Roland's words echoed in his mind.
Yes, he thought bitterly. At least, the maniacal bastard had been right about one thing. David was a Jumper and had led a life like one too and now he was about to pay for his actions. He was about to receive the punishment. The consequences.
"You're gonna kill your own goddamn son just because you were told to!" His voice was barely a hiss, his disdain punctuating every syllable.
Mary's eyes found his and for a moment, her hand stilled and the cut was left alone, bleeding and burning like a thousand bonfires. Then, the knife was tossed aside, and still with his gaze trapped, she shook her head fiercely.
"No."
He managed to raise his brows in confusion. "No?"
His ears must have decided to deceive him. There was no way she wasn't about to kill him. Hell, he had a gaping slit across his throat to prove his point.
Somewhat in awe, he noticed how her eyes suddenly softened and just for a split second, he thought he saw something akin to sorrow in their depths. But only for a moment. Just when he registered it, whatever it was vanished and her stare became vacant.
"I said no. I am not going to kill you David."
"Then what—"
"I'm here to inform you about the fact that we are once again after you and your kind. And that now, we are stronger than before. Either, you can give up the fight and accept your fate, or you can stay persistent and suffer the consequences."
There was that word again, 'consequences'.
"I never wished for this to happen," she sneered, "and I most certainly had nothing to do with you gaining the abilities to Jump!"
She paused and suddenly, she released him and got up. Showing the gun roughly back into it's holster, Mary bent down to pick up the bloodstained knife from the floor.
"God knows whatever omnipotent power hates my guts badly enough to ruin my life like this!" Her expression turned into one of utter weariness and she brushed the dust of her clothes in an exasperated motion.
As her words clarified themselves in his mind, the Jumper could only stare wide-eyed at his mother.
"What?"
She turned to look at him and with another frown, she gestured towards him with the hand that was not occupied fiddling the knife. "
You're my kid David and believe me or not, but I'm not exactly overly happy with the knowledge that I've made a promise to track down and kill all of your kind."
"So," he croaked, "you're not here to—" he coughed, "to get rid of me?"
Mary shook her head once more.
"No. As I said before: I'm here to warn you. Not because I felt like it, but because I was given the orders to do so." She paused and a thoughtful expression grazed her features. "I don't really know why he doesn't want you dead right away, but—"
"And by 'he" I take you mean Roland?" He interrupted her, still having a hard time talking.
His mother snorted, ignoring the sharpness in his voice.
"Yes. Now, like I said, I have no idea of why he doesn't want me to kill you today. He simply told me to find you and tell you what I have just told you." She shrugged before wiping her forehead, where a shiny layer of sweat was visible. Clearly the fight had taken it's toll on her too.
"He also told me to inform you that it won't be useful for you to try to team up with other Jumpers. We are hunting down all of them, and if you should interfere, we won't hesitate to kill you too." She smirked at him, "Or your sassy friend."
David's eyes widened. "Don't you dare touch Griffin!"
His mother actually looked surprised by his little outburst, and quite frankly, he was too.
"So he was right then?" She sounded rather amused, "you really have befriended the disaster?" A small, nearly incredulous laugh followed. "That's almost funny."
David didn't bother to reply. In fact, he did not know how to, but his mother didn't need to know that.
"Well," Mary continued and her voice was once again emotionless, "that was all."
A moment of silence passed and the blond just glared at her. Then, he swallowed roughly and rolled over to his side, noticing how the blood pooled on the floor beneath him.
"Thank you then!" He spat, and he saw her eyes narrow dangerously at his tone. She stepped a few inches closer to him and gazing down at him, she opened her mouth to speak.
"No need to thank me son. I'm sure you'll find the information useful, but you should keep in mind that sooner or later we'll meet again, under circumstances much heavier. And when that time comes," she stared intensely at him, "I won't be this gentle."
"I knew it!" Griffin snarled as he knitted the last loose shred of bandage on David's upper arm. It had taken quite the time, but by now, all the cuts were cleaned and patched.
"They are going to take out all the other Jumpers before us!"
The bruised Jumper gave a confirming nod. He had shared the whole story about his meeting with Mary and now, Griffin's ocean eyes were darkened with the knowledge and his cheeks slightly flushed.
"Why?"
David shook his head in bewilderment. " I don't know... Maybe," he offered, "Roland wants to deal with us himself?"
The other Jumper's eyes met his. "You think so?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, looked down and furrowed his brows.
"Hn," he mused, "that could be it." After a long pause, he lifted his gaze once more. "It's possible that he wants a decent revenge."
David nodded slowly. "Yeah."
The Englishman stared at him for a moment and for some weird reason, the Jumper felt his stomach curl under that piercing gaze. After a, in David's opinion, far too lengthy pause, an unnervingly eerie smirk manifested itself on Griffin's lips.
"In that case..." Chills ran down David's spine at the tone he used, "we'll at least give him a decent try."
David was about to reply when all of a sudden, his eyes slipped out of focus. Inhaling deeply, he felt how his mind got all foggy and his vision suddenly blurred like a broken TV. Gasping, he tried to hold onto something, but his hands only managed to grasp the air before he fell.
His brain shut down before he hit the floor.
Soft hands upon his skin.
Warm, soft hands. Caressing him with an almost frightening tenderness. Leaving burning traces behind, making his skin glow in numerous places.
A pattern of touches, all made by those incredibly warm hands.
Hands that could, with a single movement, make his insides melt.
Yet, he knew that despite their warmth, these were the hands of a killer.
Calloused, strong hands, scarred by all the lives they had taken, ruined or claimed back. Marked by the way their owner used them. By what he used them to commit.
Murders.
Yes, these were definitely the hands of a murderer and yet they were gentler than any mother's. Mother? A part of his dulled mind snorted sarcastically. Sure, he knew all about mothers did he not? At least about the bloodthirsty ones. The kind that wanted their sons dead.
The hands were there again. Stroking, touching, pressing.
Stop it!
Delicate shapes drawn all over his bare skin. Symbols of a secret lust. A desire that was mirrored deep inside himself. A blazing, overpowering lust, that took his breath away and left him alone and naked in the dark, with no other presence than the feeling of lust itself.
He wanted to lash out at those limbs. Cut them off, make them go away, unable to return. And yet, if they stayed away for just a little too long, he craved them and inserted all his willpower into the task of forcing them back.
And they came. Stroking, touching, pre—
"Ah!" David jolted awake with a loud gasp, eyes fluttering open, lips parted in a silent shout.
"FUCK!"
David wanted to throw up. Obviously, seeing as he was currently bending over the sink in Griffin's bathroom, trembling with the aftershock of that horrible dream.
Yes! It had been horrible! Gruesome even!
How extremely pathetic could one possibly become? Oh, I know, he drawled angrily in his mind, just as pathetic as he was now!
That dream had come totally unwanted and indeed unexpected. First, he had been lying face down on the bathroom floor, passed out due to the loss of blood and the next thing he knew, he had woken up in Griffin's bedroom -apparently, the other man had carried him there after he'd passed out- from the most unnerving dream -scratch that, nightmare-, he had ever suffered from!
An arousing dream about Griffin?!
Griffin, for Gods sake! That annoying, self-absorbed, bratty, not to mention stubborn, Englishman was about the farthest one could get from arousing! Those two just did not mix!
Yet, only minutes ago, he had awakened on the idiot's bed, twisted in the sheets, sweating like he been running a marathon and panting on the same fashion! All because of said idiot. Apparently, Griffin was not the only one suffering from bad dreams.
Damn!
Out of all people, why would he dream about Griffin?
Not only was he a man, but he was also a man David did not even like!
Hell, he even wanted him dead only a year ago.
These facts clearly said something about their relationship, didn't it?
Relationship!
Fuck that word! Fuck what it meant and most certainly FUCK Griffin! And no, he did not want to do that!
Slamming his hand against the sink, the intrigued Jumper scowled at his own reflection in the mirror. His eyes lay deep in their sockets and he had dark, blue bags underneath them.
He looked as if he hadn't slept in days and the blond doubted he had ever seen himself this pale. He resembled a friggin' ghost! His libs were stiff from the fight and his wounds still ached.
He felt like shit.
What the hell had he ever done to deserve this? As if he'd not already had enough? He had just fought his own mother dammit! Well, he thought with a dripping sarcasm, even being killed by Mary would be more appreciated than this!
"Don't you dare touch Griffin!"
His own words from before seemed to laugh at him now and he was suddenly overcome with a strong urge to drown himself in cold water. Somewhere in his fuzzy mind, a small snigger erupted.
Sure, that cold water would do you some good! You and your little problem down the—
"Shut up!"
How the hell was he supposed to face Griffin now?
A/N: So yeah... That was it. Poor David, hehe.
So, in the next chappie, a certain brunette returns from her vacation and what happens when she finds-- haha, I'm not telling you! :Evil snigger:
Thank you for reading!
