Alois lay stretched out on his bed, staring at the intricately carved ceiling above him. The bright digital clock on his bedside table read 2:00 a.m. The antique clock on his high-ceilinged wall ticked in the darkness, and he knew it read the same time despite its age.

His room was large and decorated with posters of popular rock bands, lovely photography with inspiring captions, and even a few of lovely human women. He had his own desk with a computer, and a dresser with a pricey stereo on it, next to which sat his sizable collection of CD's. There was a flatscreen on the wall in one corner of the room, and a gaming station beneath it.

It was a room to make any teenage boy drool with jealousy. Equipped with everything that could entertain a young mind.

But Alois could not be entertained by it right now. He kept tossing back and forth to try and get comfortable. The back of his neck was sore from where his master's fingers had gripped it hard enough to leave bruises. It was his reward for daring to follow his instincts and prance around the Funtom Company CEO's office with said CEO's secretary. It had hit him out of nowhere just like always; how was he to know she was a Leonard like him? She had not been working there the last time they visited a year ago.

His master's punishments were never particularly violent. There was never any yelling or chasing. It was always quiet, cold, and quick. So it had been when they came home that afternoon. Alois had known that Claude would punish him somehow, and he had braced for it. When they arrived at the old mansion they called home, and pulled up to the door, Claude had put the car in park.

"Alois."

Just one word, but a deadly one for him. Claude never used his name unless he was in serious trouble.

"Yes, master?"

Claude did not even look at him, but reached out and gently lay his hand on the back of Alois' neck.

"You embarrassed me today." Alois fidgeted slightly, unable to look at Claude as he said,

"Y-yes, master, I know..."

"I was quite surprised, but I don't know why. It's not like this is the first time you have disobeyed me."

The fingers tightened on him, and his slender shoulders tensed up. Claude stared ahead with an almost bored expression as he continued,

"I thought that I have told you numerous times before to rein in that infernal instinct of yours when we are in public."

The fingers tightened further, and Alois began to tremble.

"I know, sir." He said in a whisper.

"Then why," The fingers clenched down hard, suddenly, as if to snap his spine, and the boy yelped, "do you insist upon making me punish you?"

Claude's voice remained soft and even, never changing despite the action of his hand.

Alois felt tears forming in his eyes as he squirmed beneath the bruising force of his master's hand.

"Stop, please! Let me go!" He begged, but Claude did not.

"A pet does not command his master, Alois." He said, "Now, what should you say in this situation?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Alois cried out, distress evident in his voice.

"What else?"

"I'm sorry and…forgive me…"

The hand gave him one last hard squeeze and then released him. As he trembled through the aftershock of such pain, Claude's hand drifted up to pet his hair gently in disturbing contrast to the force he had just used upon the boy.

"Good pet. You know it does not please me to hurt you. How else am I to make you learn?"

Alois sobbed a little and Claude clicked his tongue slightly.

"Come here, pet." Alois obeyed his master's outstretched hand and shifted forms to crawl into his lap. Claude stroked his back for a while before saying,

"You know this means no dinner for your feline-form."

"Yes, master." Alois answered, hiding his face in Claude's elbow, ironic as it was Claude he was trying to hide from.

The scene echoed in Alois' mind as he lay in bed, the discomfort of his neck outweighing the hunger he felt from his other form. How many times had he lain here like this? Hungry, hurting, or both, because of his master? In the four years since Claude had adopted him, or in Alois' mind, 'purchased' him, he had warranted his anger too many times to count. At least, Alois assumed it was anger.

No matter what he did, Claude's expression had never changed. Whether he was punishing him, being embarrassed or angered by him, praising him, or bored with him, his face was always a cold, if handsome, mask. Alois had learned that his golden eyes could show the emotion his face withheld, but it was slight and even after all these years he had trouble reading them.

The man was a mystery. A painful, frightening mystery. He made seemingly kind gestures many times that confused Alois. His room, for example. Over the years his master had asked him what he wanted and had bought it for him, regardless of price. In this way he allowed Alois to indulge any interest he wanted, and yet he would treat Alois as if he didn't have the mental capacity to tie his own shoes.

The inconsistency in Claude's actions, coupled with the constant neutrality of his mannerisms ensured that Alois never perfected how he was to perform. Alois' life was a constant struggle to please Claude; either to avoid punishment, or to receive at least one ounce of approval. He hated both reasons. It just made Alois loath and love his master. He was his provider, his guide, the one who was supposed to take care of him...and yet he was the one who hurt him most.

Alois knew it was not supposed to be this way. The shelter from which he had come had assured him that he would be adopted by a kind, loving person or family. When Claude had decided to adopt him on the spot after meeting him, Alois' heart had soared. He had known that there were many inspections to be passed before any human could adopt one of his kind. But it had not taken him long to realize that Claude had taken him in to be his pet, and nothing more. A fancy decoration that he carried around with him to all his various business dealings, making others 'ooh' and 'aah' at him.

Leonard or human, no one ever wanted to be treated less than what they were. Alois was no different, and the pain and loneliness of his life crept upon him most in these nightly hours he spent without the distractions of the technology in his room. He missed interacting with people, he missed his little brother. The pain of living without Luka was terrible. He had left him in the hands of the Shelter when Claude adopted him. He had only been eight and the laws were that Leonards could not be adopted under the age of ten. Claude had assured him that he would adopt Luka as well once he reached ten. However, after two years passed, Alois had questioned him excitedly about it, only to have his questions shut down. Claude had become irritated and finally slapped him, demanding that he not bring the subject up again.

That was the moment that Alois knew through and through that he belonged to a heartless man. He had been allowed to keep a photograph of Luka on the mantelpiece in the drawing room, and it was the closest he ever got to seeing him again.

Sometimes he would have nightmares about Luka belonging to someone like Claude, and he would wake up crying. Other times he thanked God that Luka had not been adopted by Claude. He couldn't imagine how they would have both been treated together. However, he still longed for the companionship of his little brother.

So tonight, like so many nights before, the blond teen had to weep for a long while before the soothing arms of sleep answered his prayers and embraced him.