A/N: Yesh! I finally updated. And in time for Halloween too. I'm sure you're all in serotonin bliss with all that Halloween chocolate. (Or just quivering with an unnatural sugar high, heh. jk.) Sooo, hope you all had a good one. Thanks so much for all the reviews! You're all so utterly fantastic and I can't wait to get another chapter up for all you wonderful people.

Disclaimer: LotF is not mine. Just so you all know. x)


Chapter 9 — Kill with Silence

"It sucks to be alone, even when there are people all around you."

-Scrubs


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"I can't believe you're actually going!"

Ralph nearly jumped from his seat, the feeling of betrayal crept repellently within his already churning stomach. He had woken this morning with the heavy sensation of nausea, as thoughts of what had transpired between him and Jack the evening before passed through his troubled, stressed mind. Since then he had been in a perpetual state of feeling ill. Most of the food on his tray remained untouched, a quiet testament to the sense of inner filth.

Eric stared blankly at the table, his grip on the edge tightening. His face paled a few degrees at Ralph's indignation; it almost felt like he had already let him down after pining so passionately for pardon. He looked up; a sudden impression of fortitude solidifying his features. "I—I don't have a choice. Sam will be there and Roger, he—"Eric paused, as if forcing down the rising bile that threatened to burn his throat. "—he threatened him."

Ralph's rigid expression remained, though he pushed himself to calm down enough so that he could sit back at the table, his fists still clenched upon his lap. "Roger?" His voice came with forced tranquility, swallowing his resentment that strained to escape his lips.

Eric nodded when he saw that he had Ralph's listening ear. "Sam doesn't know, though… that Roger's angry with him, I mean." Here he bowed his head, as if speaking to a priest, confessing his most awkward sins. "Roger came to me with threats… of what he was going to do to him."

The thickness of the air between them settled as Ralph crossed his arms tightly, his eyes clearly incensed over this new vial of information. He thought and processed this as he stared without seeing.

Eric licked his dried lips, eyes nervously flashing between Ralph and his tray of food, unsure of what to do, so he continued. "I think it's because of Cleeves… I don't think Roger likes that they've practically been glued to each other since the beginning of the school year." A cloud of misery hung over his eyes.

"Hmph," Ralph sighed. He felt the same pain from last night caused by Irene's odd rejection flitter within his gut, instigating an internal cringe. So it seems that the hunters don't like it when they give their attention away to others. Or at least to anyone that isn't them, Ralph thought as a surge of fresh rage heated his insides, though his expression remained unmoved.

"I don't like this. I don't like what they've been doing." Ralph muttered as he mindlessly poked at his mushy food.

"I'd only be going to make sure nothing happens to him," Eric interjected softly, mentally building his case in order to properly present it before his former chief. "I already tried to talk Sam out of going, but he insisted that there was nothing that I could say that could change his mind. He said that he wanted to go because Cynthia was going." Eric's face muddied upon saying her name. "I didn't really want to argue… we haven't fought in so many years… and… I don't want to start now…" He finished as a rather crestfallen guise crept over his features.

Before Ralph could respond, a vision of the same brunette girl from the night before came into view, causing his heart to liven, to beat so hard against his chest that he could feel it oscillate throughout his entire body. He forgot his next thought entirely as he brought his face up from Eric. Irene caught his regard and held it with her own. Excitement trickled through his body at her slightly softening gaze, even if it was marred by the presence of former apprehension, born only a night ago.

Hesitation rested briefly over her face before she seemed to have made up her mind. She walked towards their table and sat next to him. Ralph tried and failed to stifle the elation within his smile. Eric quieted when he saw that they were no longer alone and began to concentrate on his unappetizing tray of food.

"You should be eating," Irene mumbled as she settled into her seat, her eyes sliding over to Ralph's unscathed tray, disapproval illuminating her eyes. Ralph felt a wave of comfort from the small return of her old self as he tastelessly spooned whatever it was on his tray into his mouth. He still had no idea what it was as he swallowed.

"Rene," He whispered, leaning towards her. She cringed a little, as if she had just been pricked. "I need to tell you something."

She looked over at him, reflecting only her peculiar sadness and guilt. "Ralph—"she started before he viciously cut her off, not wanting to hear her retraction from him for a second time. His stomach warped uncomfortably at the thought.

"Please hear me out… We can meet in secret after school." Ralph spoke in a low, quiet voice as he stared at the table, stressing the word so that she got the hint.

"O—ok" Irene relented, a slight stumble within her speech. A blush faintly brushed her cheeks before it just as quickly faded. He allowed a small smile as he shoveled more of the bland gruel into his mouth.

The rest of breakfast passed rather uneventfully with the exception of a couple of knowing glances being passed between Ralph and Eric, their unfinished conversation hanging densely within the air between them. Classes were monotonous and Ralph was only itching to escape them as the day carried on.

When the last dismissal bell finally rang, he cautiously began making his way past the throng of students as they all rushed towards whatever activity they had in mind after school. His eyes searched, almost accusatory in nature as he made his way towards the secret grove. The last thing he needed was to have any of the hunters stalk him to the very spot that Irene had entrusted him with. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he plunged within the trees. He managed to take a small detour before finally relenting and emerging within their secret spot, almost feeling the burn of unfriendly eyes upon the back of his neck, despite the caution.

He waited. His hands strained fretfully within his pockets as he thought of what he was going to say. Words became tangled messes within his mind and his breath came in short, nervous fits as he constantly shifted his weight, taking out his stress on the overgrown grass. Before long, Ralph's gaze shot in the direction of shaken foliage. His pulse rose slightly. Irene's hand appeared, swatting agitatedly at the branches as she wriggled her way in through the narrow passage that the close knit trees allowed.

"Hey," Ralph said immediately as he drew closer, all previous plans of subtlety thrown out the window. His eyes shone brightly, causing a bit of the hopeful excitement to leak into Irene's dull mood. She smiled at him, a genuine gesture, softening her mouth.

Acting on impulse, knowing that they were free from the prying eyes of society, she threw her arms around him and held his body against hers tightly. Her arms crossed over the expanse of his back as he wrapped his arms about her frame without hesitancy. While confusion continued to plague Ralph's mind with Irene's strange, conflicting behavior, he savored the moment, bringing his face down into her hair, nuzzling his nose into her silky locks like an overly-affectionate dog. He could smell her forbidden lilac and immediately buried himself within it, closing his eyes.

Irene visibly slackened her form against his, enveloped protectively within his masculine scent, both thrilling and calming her turbulent nerves. She felt him pull away, much to her discontentment. He didn't move far from her as he waited for their gazes to connect.

"Um," He anxiously rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to remember what he was going to say. Irritable with his suddenly blank mind, he continued, taking the spontaneous route. "So… I felt that I must have offended you in some way last night…" Irene took a breath as if to say something, but was stopped by Ralph's pleading eyes. She tightly sealed her lips.

"I honestly don't know what I said or did. I know that sometimes I can be rather dense and say things that I don't really mean…" Wow, this sure is fluent, his mind jeered. He swallowed with great difficultly. Ralph tried to ignore it as he forced more words from his mouth. "I'm new at this… So, I hope that you can forgive me for whatever I did or said… and I'll try not to repeat it."

The whole while, Irene was trying her best not to interrupt him, not to smile. His presentation felt so impromptu, so innocently ardent, that the corners of her mouth automatically lifted. When he finished, she couldn't stop the small laugh that had escaped her lips. Ralph tilted his head slightly in further confusion, golden hair shifting in the breeze. Completing the picture of how endearing he was being in that moment, Irene shifted quickly forward and pressed a firm, surprising kiss against his mouth before tracing a feather-light trail down his jaw. She moved back, smirking at the stunned, though somewhat pleased look upon his face.

"I'm sorry, but I had to… you were being cute." Irene laughed softly at his abruptly vexed expression at being called such. Her face took a serious turn as she remembered what exactly they were talking about.

"And… you don't need to apologize for anything. Honestly, it's me that ran off. You didn't do anything wrong." Irene spoke as she peered down at their feet, the toes of their shoes centimeters apart amidst the grass.

"If anything, it's me who should be apologizing," Irene took a slow breath. "I just feel awful about… well, in a way, I feel like I'm leading you on when I shouldn't be."

Ralph's breath hitched in slight alarm over her statement. "Is… is there someone else?" The very idea of there being another guy made his blood boil in a way that he had never felt before. It made his skin crawl with a sudden and vengeful itch. He averted his eyes with a tightened jaw.

"No! Oh, God no." Irene said quickly. "It's just that… I might not see you after school. I might be sent away…" Her fingers lifted and trailed over Ralph's hand, her light fingertips tickled his palm and he immediately closed his hand, griping them in the process.

"Is that all?" Ralph asked, raising his brows. He almost felt like laughing his relief, now feeling absurd over the possibility of something serious. Irene looked at him, her brows knitted together slightly, as if irritated at this graceful acceptance.

"No that's not all," she spoke, her normally gentle brown eyes hardened. "But that's all I'm telling you. You don't need details. Just know that you might not ever see me again after school."

Ralph's face loosened, his eyes were slightly downcast as the toe of his shoe halfheartedly moved loose soil. "You don't know that. Things can change."

A sad smile adorned Irene's features as she lifted Ralph's head, both of her hands rested carefully at the sides of his face. Grey-blue eyes looked back at hers, apprehensive… waiting…

"You know what, Ralph? Let's forget about this…" She drew her face close to his, her designated look of familiar defiance creeping slowly into her eyes. Ralph's breath became tight and heavy, his eyes widened. "Let's concentrated on what's now… I don't want to remember only how I worried away my last days. I at least want to remember something pleasant before I'm to be locked away." She chuckled quietly at his sudden look of bewilderment. One of her hands buried within his gilded hair, her body thrilled at the feel of it between her fingers.

"I'm just kidding," she whispered; though a hint of melancholy lingered.

Thoughts quickly ceased and Ralph's heart thudded heavily when Irene pulled his face down to hers, softly molding her lips against his. He pulled in close, a hand quickly finding the back of her neck. Ralph lost his breath, their kiss breaking unexpectedly, when he felt Irene's hands suddenly grip his shoulders and pulled herself upwards, crushing their bodies together. They shared a shaking gasp as they toppled over onto the forest floor; Irene bent the unruly, long grass as Ralph's body followed. Their breathy amusement over their eagerness quickly dissipated the moment they regained composure. He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. Light shivers played over his skin, faintly detecting the heavy array of longing within her brown eyes.

The thick vapors of reverie that had quickly built around them shattered in an instant with a single blood-curdling scream. It pierced straight into the pair's rapidly pumping hearts as they pushed away from each other and scrabbled to their feet.

Ralph nearly stumbled with sudden vertigo upon standing, though his darkened, alarmed eyes shot in the general direction of the sound. He could only hear Irene's harsh breath as they stood still, listening for a moment, though no more came. They exchanged startled, somewhat doubtful glances. With unspoken treaty, they left the small clearing.

Their footing was hardly quiet, despite their best efforts. Even the slightest stirring amongst the cold, long-dead leaves sounded like the crackling of an overeager fire. Just as they reached the abrupt halt of the tree line before stepping out into the exposed field before the school, Ralph reached over to clasp Irene's arm and yanked her hard against one of the trees. The movement was so quick, so urgent that Irene immediately babbled a protest. Ralph muffled her speech with his hand as he flattened himself against her. The bark bit unmercifully against her back with this added pressure. Her eyes above his oppressive hand flooded with nasty anger until she noticed Ralph's expression. It was of pure attentiveness as he peered around her, staring fixedly at something out on the lawn. Her hand came up and clawed silently at his until it gave away, the pressure alleviated from her mouth.

Irene turned her head, following Ralph's hardened line of vision. Out upon the field, bathed in the subtle golden light of the October sunset, was a dark figure. He slipped like a shadow towards the school, his legs quick and silent.

After he was out of sight, Ralph backed away from Irene, his face paled, though not with the slight trepidation that she felt towards the whole bizarre situation, but with a cold resentment—a kind of anger that she had never seen on him before. Irene's insides shuddered slightly.

"Who was that? Did you see?" Irene muttered, her quiet voice sounded thunderous in the oppressive stillness that had followed.

"Roger…" Ralph responded with a callused whisper, his critical eyes never leaving the spot where they had just seen him dart away. Just then, in a quick second, his eyes tempered as he turned to survey the surrounding woods. His mouth opened slightly, as if to voice a troubling thought, though seemed to think better of it before tightening his jaw.

With nothing further to do, Irene and Ralph began to make their way over towards the school as well. No more words were exchanged, though Irene couldn't help but to glance towards her blond companion every once in a while, almost half expecting him to divulge some of the turbulence that was so clearly brewing inside his mind.

He never did. His mouth remained a tight, thin line, clamped in forbidden silence.

Ralph was even quiet all through dinner. Eric and even Sam had decided to join them, though Irene could tell by the slight redness of their faces and stoic expressions that they currently weren't getting along. The tension between them simmered the cool air. A quick surveillance of the room divulged that Cynthia was absent, explaining Sam's unexpected presence back at their table.

Only once did Irene manage to smile at Ralph, catching his eyes, to which he responded with a forced one of his own. The rest of their time together was monotonous, yet almost as strained as the air between Sam and Eric. They said their respectable good-nights before departing, leaving Irene feeling peculiarly tense—wondering just exactly what was going on.

Ralph found his way quickly to his room, avoiding the mass of boys as they talked, laughed, and made their way through the halls. Upon reaching his room, he snatched shower things before hastily making his way towards the washroom.

Even beneath the hot water as it dribbled over closed lids and down his body, the tension refused to leave—the severe impression, the gruel, dripping stain that Roger's presence within the woods had left upon his mind. It mocked him, taunted his dark curiosity. What the hell was he doing there? And what was that god-awful scream? He had never even heard him scream before—wasn't even particularly sure if he was even capable of something so human.

No, it couldn't have been him… It sounded younger.

Ralph scrubbed at his body harder than was necessary, absorbed with agitation, burning for release teeming querulously within his frame. By the time he broke from the mental tirade, his hand reached blindly for the shower nob, twisting it off. Only after the sound of the water pelting the hard tiled floor had ceased, did he realize just how quiet it had gotten within the washroom. Ralph's ears strained for any familiar clamor of the others as he toweled himself.

Nothing. Not even the sound of mindless dull, shuffling that he had involuntarily grown used to over the past month.

Pulling boxers on with an uneasy haste, he snatched the rest of his clothes as he began to leave, opting to finish getting ready in his room instead of the suddenly cold, calm washroom. He had nearly made it out of the door before he was greeted by a shadow, leaning luxuriously against the wall alongside the entrance, arms limply crossed. Roger. Of course.

Ralph's heart soared into that of a vulnerable pace, though he tried not to betray the acid apprehension that now flourished. Trying his best at keeping a straight face, his eyes quietly found Roger's, disconcerted to see the dark gaze already upon him.

Roger aligned, pulling himself away from the wall, almost gracefully as he stalked closer, deadened eyes never leaving the pale image before him. His face was as emotionless as a wax doll—all smooth with an unsettling emptiness. Ralph frowned at his mental comparison as he drew closer.

"What are you doing?" The blond quietly voiced; his tenor dry.

The other only stared in response, though a lone corner of his mouth lifted marginally. It certainly didn't take long to notice the patterns, the schedule of a person. To know their habits. All he needed to do was watch and wait. His line of sight lowered slightly, sliding with deft smoothness down to his half unclothed front before making his visual trek back up to his face. He could see why Jack wanted him… but the simple observation did little to sooth the reservations he held over the altogether obvious fixation.

"I want to know what you're up to…" Roger said. The edges within the blunt declaration were softened and glossy; a honeyed tenor. Sugar, however, never did mix well with rancid things—like a horribly sweetened cough syrup. Especially towards one that had already tasted how acidic the bile truly was beneath the smokescreen.

Ralph bristled, though he couldn't help the openness of surprise as it faintly contorted his features. A short, sardonic laugh escaped him, echoing mildly in the tiled room. "You think I'm the one who's up to something?"

The dark hunter observed, gauging Ralph's reaction with a guarded eye before moving closer. Closer still—until their faces were matched at an uncomfortable distance. This, Roger preferred. It made it easier to force the target into less ease, especially when they had yet to be broken—like an unbridled horse that never knew the pain and will of a harsh hand.

"I know you are. And it won't take long to find out what it is." Roger had to hold back a smile, lest he wanted to ruin the moment. Even if Ralph was insinuating the truth and he didn't harbor less attractive motives, it would still be fun to mess with his mind. And it was then—and only then that he remembered Jack's tasteless words. He couldn't play with him—it wasn't fucking allowed. Roger internally scowled as he retracted from Ralph, yielding his disciplinary gaze, drawing back at a normal distance. He looked every bit like a sour puss that had forcibly relinquished its thrashing, captured mouse.

Confusion passed over Ralph's eyes as his mouth surrendered to silence. It was prolonged before he finally broke away from it. Back on task. "You need to leave the twins alone," the blond said, trying to keep his teeth from clenching.

Roger looked back at him; sudden amusement gleamed within his dark eyes. "Right. If you say so. You know how you've always had such an impact on me…" His speech was flat, though the sarcasm unambiguously bled through. A leer protruded from an otherwise hollow face.

"You're sick. You're both sick." Ralph muttered. "This isn't a game. Even if you think it is, then you're the only ones. We don't want any part of it."

Roger chuckled. The sound resonating against the tiles. "You're already in this, Medevane… and so are they. We've been playing for a long time now… even if you've yet to realize that." Here, Roger relished a smile, a dirtied expression on his face as he loomed closer to the blond, his voice low.

"And it's never going to end. You're going to take this game to the grave—we all are." The way he nearly spat the word 'game' made Ralph not think of it as one at all. More like an affliction, and for a fleeting moment, he knew exactly what Roger was talking about and could almost sympathize. Just as quickly, however, his rational, societal mind shook away at the glistening web of his words, only serving to baffle the blond even further.

Two sides of the same coin that would never come to terms. They would never understand the other. And Ralph felt that he had both of them on the inside, nearly full grown presences, always divided, always waging war—tearing him up amidst the grueling process.

Roger observed him, though when Ralph looked back, Roger's expression withdrew, leaving behind only his notorious mask—calm and hardened to the point of forcing the observer to doubt that he was even of flesh and blood.

"Perhaps I'll see you later. Tomorrow's Friday, after all." Roger's voice softened, though remained its monotonous self as he opened the door of the washroom. He threw back one last, vacant glance before leaving Ralph behind.

Ralph raced after him, flinging open the washroom door before his rapid eyes scanned the hallways. He was gone. As if he had simply vanished. Ralph forced himself to breath after finding that he had stilled his lungs somewhat—as if they would interrupt the strange moment. And still living within that moment, he was unsure if he felt more agitation or relief at Roger's sudden departure.

Gripping the lump of his clothes and damp towel, he strolled back towards his room. A sullen mood trailed close behind. Heavy. Suffocating.

Upon opening his door, he was shocked to see an altogether familiar someone lounging lavishly upon his wrinkled, made bed. One long arm was tucked beneath his ginger head as he lay upon the pillow; the other was holding a white piece of paper up close to his prowling eyes. Ralph stood still. Mouth was slightly agape and eyes enflamed at the sight before him. "What the—ugh, can't I go ten fucking minutes without seeing either one of you?"

Jack lowered the letter from his pale gaze as he lazily surveyed Ralph, as if he were the one intruding his room. The gaze instantly roughened as he raised himself from the bed. He spoke, a blend of subtle humor and enticement. "Trying to bait me already? And you've only just arrived…" His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth. The predatory grin was already set in place as he finally stood from the bed. "You should know by now how I get when I see you so… upset." Hungry eyes glittered upon the exposed skin as he drew near, pale fingertips already making light contact with Ralph's stomach.

Ralph felt the intensity of hot blood rushing to his face and the instant throb of embarrassment as he struck the forward hand away. Walking further into the room, he gained much-needed space between them, quickly dragging the shirt over his head. Jack made a low sound of passionate disapproval as he came up behind the blond, pressing the front of his torso tightly against Ralph's back. Persistent hands snaking around his lower stomach; fingers skimmed the line of tantalizing skin, revealed as the edge of his recently placed shirt hitched slightly.

Ignoring the shivering goosebumps as they erupted over the plane of his skin, Ralph wretched himself away from Jack's hold, twisting so that they now faced each other. "Why are you here?" Ralph spoke in a harsh tone. He scrutinized the disgruntled, crumpled sheets of his bed as well as his father's scant letter now thrown carelessly amidst the covers. Looking back at Jack, his eyes narrowed. "And why are you going through my things?"

The redhead smirked lightly. "Sixteen now?" Ralph didn't respond, only growing more irritated at his blatantly ignored questions. Jack shadowed closer, now smoothly taking the blond's jaw between gentle fingers. Instead of resisting, Ralph fixed Jack with a punitive stare—his eyes like two pieces of jaded, colorless crystal.

"I want you to leave," Ralph spoke before the hunter could move in closer to seal their mouths. His voice was as hard as his regard suggested. Jack paused, though didn't move away. Seductive lips were close and appealing as they curved amusedly.

"That's what you always say… but it's so clearly not what you want." Those lips spoke and Ralph was surprised with how hard it was to concentrate with their proximity. So he removed them. Ralph shoved him away, not aggressively, but hard enough to enforce distance. Jack didn't seem to repel, though that infuriating smile never left his face. All too self-assured. The blond grumbled softly before even trying to speak again.

"I assume that you have a room… so make use of it and stop coming here. And… this needs to stop." Ralph paused, unsure of what this even was. Fooling around? He didn't know… though from the look igniting Jack's face, it seemed like he knew very well what this was. It seemed like he knew excruciatingly well and it didn't sit well with the blond. All he knew was that whatever this thing was, it was severely starting to mess with him—body and mind.

"Why deny yourself?" Jack laughed, though Ralph couldn't tell if he was truly mocking him or just entertained by the whole situation and maybe even confused at the notion of self-denial. Either way, his blood simmered.

"This is wrong," Ralph said. Jack suddenly frowned, lips thinning. There was a method to Ralph's voice in that moment that he had always loathed with a barbed vehemence. It reminded him too much of a time and place years ago—back when he was the boy with the conch. Words ringing from him with self-conviction—one that he had so faithfully adopted as his own from the world of adults that had once been so blissfully separated from them. One of very few that held onto it so dearly.

And he obviously still did. To an extent…

"Still putting on that pathetic display, are we?" Jack spat his words, disgust teeming beneath his very skin. "You still pretend. Pretending to be something you're not. Pretending that this world still wants you."

Ralph bit at his inner cheek until familiar pain flooded his senses, though he continued to regard Jack as much as he didn't want to. He was slowly getting more used to the sudden fluctuations within his mood. He was always black or white, seething or cold. It was very rare to find a steady, middle ground. The best the blond could do was to sway with the violent tide, unresisting in a way that didn't force the waves to hit harder. Harder until resolve finally broke.

There was silence. A pause laden with the pregnant swell of tension. In the stillness, Ralph thought of Roger and his cryptic smile, of his promise involving the twins. And he knew in that moment that he was still in the thick of things… whether he liked it or not. The hunters made sure of that. He knew that he couldn't pretend, couldn't look the other way when he knew (or at least partially knew) of Roger's intentions.

"I'll go… to your party…" Ralph whispered. He didn't have to look to know that the other was pleased. Ralph felt his jaw tighten; the muscles within his arms grew taut as he folded them over his chest. "But I'll only go… if you leave right now." He lowered his eyes to the floor, turning away from the chorister, so that he could only make out his blurry form within his peripheral vision.

Jack paused, processing this as his eyes indulged in one more sweeping once-over before turning. He had nothing to lose… so he silently took up on Ralph's offer. Triumph bloomed warm and bright beneath the constraint of his chest as he made his slow, definite departure.

Ralph waited several seconds after the closing of his door, waited for what seemed like an eternity before he could breathe normally, allowing his chest free reign to rise and fall. His hands rubbed against his arms, instantly feeling the unwelcome chill of the empty room. The quietness and seclusion left only a bitter taste. And yet, it's what he had asked for.

He never did derive comfort from solitude.

He wasn't sure if he ever could.


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I've actually been working really hard on the next chapter already. So, that should be coming up soon. Thanks a ton, you lovely readers. If you have time, drop a review. They are very much appreciated.