Title: Scraps of Gold - Lullaby

Author: Kjesta

Chapter: 21/??

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the series Neon Genesis Evangelion.

Rating: T

Warnings: Shounen-ai, AU.

Word Count: 4,368

Dedication to Torey L. Hayden. "Murphy's Boy" is incredible.

Listening recommendation for the first two scenes is "Haunted" by Poe, after that "If you are my love" from TRC again.

„Look whom we've picked up in town," Naoki announced as he entered the hall and the others looked up. The boy who followed the one with glasses inside kept his eyes lowered, apparently feeling quite uncomfortable. The other boys didn't feel uneasy in the least. It didn't happen all that often, but from time to time, they found others who had no home and took them in. They didn't have much to offer, but they were always willing to share - most of them had gone through some pretty bad things and thus they tried to help if possible.

Naoki waved Yuki over. The dark-haired boy stood obediently. He had nothing to do anyway.

"Would you mind showing him around?" Naoki asked lowly, nodding towards the new boy who looked around indecisively. "I would, but... I don't think I'm good with him. He's one of the quiet ones." He rolled his eyes, but Yuki just glanced over at the new one before nodding.

"Sure."

Not without relief and after giving the boy a brief thumbs-up, Naoki went off to chat with Akira, leaving Yuki with him.

Yuki looked him over with interest. The other one's hair was a very bright blonde, he was about the same height as he himself, maybe an inch less, and his eyes were of a very deep chocolate brown. He had something numb about his features, but his pupils never stopped moving, taking in his surroundings attentively. Yuki felt pity for him. He looked like a rabbit that had escaped from a nest of snakes, but wasn't sure yet if its new location was any better.

Yuki made a step towards him and was pleased as the dark eyes focused on him. "Hi," he said simply. "I'm Yuki. If you don't mind, I'll show you around a bit." He winked. "It's not stuffed with luxury, but it's better than the streets." The boy just nodded. Gesturing him to follow him, Yuki began leading him around, pointing out the rooms you'd better keep out of because they were ramshackle and those that were rather acceptable. He felt satisfied when the other boy seemed to relax slowly.

It was late already but because it was summer, the sun just set. It was beautiful. The boy halted at a large, broken window to look outside. Yuki came to his side.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" he said. The boy nodded. "Say... Aren't you going to tell me your name?"

For a moment, the blonde just looked at him in silence. Then, something at the corner of his mouth twitched. Was it an attempt to smile? "I'm Shiro." He turned to look outside again. "It looks like blood," he remarked quietly.

Yuki regarded him for a moment before he watched the sunset again. "I think it looks more like fire. And there's a lot of nice metaphors for fire."

"Such as?" Shiro asked glumly. "Death, destruction?

Yuki laughed. "Not quite. I was rather thinking about stuff like, you know, love and passion and such." He rested his chin in his hand and smiled absent-mindedly. The blonde looked at him.

From the very first moment, Shiro had loved his smile.

----------

"SHIRO!"

In a matter of seconds, Yuichi was forgotten as Yuki almost stumbled in his haste to come to his friend's side. Gods, no... NO...

The blond was lying on the floor, dust dyeing his clothes grey at the back, but it was quickly overcome by the red that pooled around his head. There was a nasty, gaping wound at his neck and Yuki felt like he was going to be sick as he looked at it.

"Shiro... Shiro, look at me, look at me, please..." He muttered feverishly as he cradled Shiro's face, trying not to touch the wound or move him around. What was he supposed to do, what should he do?

Brown eyes focused on him in panic and Shiro struggled slightly, but Yuki held him down to the floor. Damn, the blood was everywhere... He felt how the knees of his jeans were soaked with the warm liquid. He pulled his shirt over his head and pressed it to Shiro's neck. Maybe it'd stop the bleeding somewhat...

Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed something lying just inches from Shiro's right hand. The realization was immediate and cruel, but he forced himself to think only of what he could do now, damn, what could he do?...

Shiro made a weird sound somewhere between a gurgle and a moan, and Yuki laid a hand over his mouth to keep him from speaking, it would certainly only make the wound worse... "Don't talk," he whispered, resting a hand on the blonde's chest to keep him from squirming. "Please, you'll only make it worse... Don't move..." He ran his other hand through his hair soothingly, but inside, he felt nothing but despair.

There were footsteps on the corridor and then the others were there. He could hear gasps behind him, could hear them take steps back as they saw the bloody scene, but he could also hear Kensuke and Touji whispering, and then someone running away again.

He dared to look back. Right there, at the door, stood Asuka. And suddenly, he was sure that never in his life he had ever hated someone so much. He picked the bloody gun from the floor, holding it up.

"Tell me," he said, just barely able to keep his voice from trembling with anger, "why do you still keep that thing? Do you think it's going to help anyone? CAN'T YOU GET YOURSELF SOME TOY THAT WON'T KILL OFF OTHERS?!" At his last words, he tossed it violently away so it banged against the wall and landed on the floor with a metallic clang. Asuka stared at him, wide-eyed, and took an unsure step back before she turned on her heel and ran out of the door. The others stared after her before looking at Yuki again whose full attention was on Shiro once more.

The blonde's breathing grew more shallow, Yuki noticed, and he felt tears well up. No, please, no... "You can't leave me alone, Shiro," he whispered and it didn't matter in the least that he was crying when it was no use. "Please... Look at me, Shiro, come on, look at me..."

The others kept their eyes averted respectfully. They all knew that Shiro and Yuki were closer friends than any of them, except maybe Touji and Kensuke. And losing your best friend is just as bad as losing a lover or a relative.

Yuki never knew how long it had been until he finally heard the sirens and he was pulled from his friend by a medic to watch how they carried Shiro away.

He wondered when the future had begun looking so black.

----------

Asuka lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. One day had passed since Shiro had attempted to shoot himself. One dreadful day. With her gun. She closed her eyes. Her gun.

Touji had run to the next house to call an ambulance. He had the longest legs and was the sportiest of them. Except for herself, but she had just stood transfixed. All that blood. Yuki, kneeling in front of his best friend, crying and looking at her like she was the most despicable person on earth. She turned onto her side. Maybe she was.

Getting up abruptly, she quickly gathered what little she possessed and stuffed it into an old bag that still lay around somewhere under her bed. She needed to get away. Away from it all, and at once. She knew that they would all look at her, saying "It's not your fault, Asuka, you didn't want it", but secretly thinking that she was responsible. Of course they would.

Where could she go? She knew no place. She merely knew whom she wanted to have around.

Shinji.

Recalling the way to Kaworu's house, she looked back at her room for the last time and left. If she found Shinji at all, she'd find him at Kaworu's.

----------

The candle flame flickered slightly, its orange glow dancing ecstatically on its wick. It warmed his face as he stared into the light.

Rei had gone to the market and Shinji, as he had done all week, just stayed home, in the small room he had woken up in, and tried to remember. When he had told her that he remembered nothing, she had tried to help him piece together the fragments of his lost memories. There were schemes, and most of them seemed to lie back a long time - a tall man, bearded and with glasses, sitting at the kitchen table as if in silent prayer. A bloody bed sheet. A dusty factory room. Yes. Yes, he remembered. He remembered that he was Shinji, Ikari Shinji, runaway and part of a bunch of street kids. How weird, most of it had come back easily, like it had just waited at the very edge of his mind to get a small push and all fell back into place in one single chain reaction. But there was still something lacking.

One and a half year. He lacked one and a half year. That was the most recent time, and the time without Rei. She hadn't been able to help him recollect what had happened during eighteen months because she just hadn't been there.

He wondered how he had ended up here. Rei said she had found him on her doorstep during Saturday night of last week. Bruised, hurt, with a nasty wound at the back of his head. And without any recollection.

What had happened during that year? Everything could be true. Did he even live with the gang anymore? Had he maybe, unlikely as it was, found a new home? Was something with his father? What had he been doing out in the streets, past midnight, bloody and so weak that he had finally lost consciousness on her doorstep? And...

Shinji laid a hand over his chest, feeling for something that should be there, but wasn't. He had the feeling that something was missing. Something important. But what?

----------

His lungs stung and his legs felt very weak already, like they'd forsake him any moment. But he kept running, just straight ahead, only changing direction when the street ended and there was no other way.

All that mattered was that he didn't stop.

Gods, he was an idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot... He was just doing again what he had thought he'd overcome after so many years, after finding someone to love. After finding friends. But suddenly all that was gone and he just wanted to get away - he didn't want to look back, but on the other hand, he also had nothing to look ahead to. At the moment, his future looked just as dark as the dirty pavement that he felt rough and hard through the soles of his shoes.

How could he go back to Kaworu now? He had shouted at him, even slapped him across the face. There had been a reddish mark on Kaworu's cheek afterwards. Looking back at it, he must have looked plainly ridiculous doing it. Like in one of those girly movies where the chick slaps her untrue boyfriend after she has discovered he has been cheating on her. Boys don't slap. They punch or shove or do God knows what, but they don't bitch-slap. That's what you always think. But when you're in a situation as that, you generally care little for gender stereotypes.

"He called you a stupid faggot!" "... maybe I am."

Kaworu couldn't have meant that, he couldn't... How did he dare belittle himself, indicating it had been his fault that Shinji was in this situation when the brunet had so clearly chosen it himself? From the very moment of their first kiss on, he had always known that others might not be all that comfortable with the way Kaworu and he liked each other, but it had always just been in the back of his mind, a threatening shadow somewhere way off in the distance. Looming, but too far away to bother you into spending more than just a fleeting thought on it. Until it hit you full force - and now it had.

Thinking back, he had been stupid to never spend more time thinking about it. Even if it might not seem so when they were mindlessly making out somewhere, stupid and oblivious to worries as you just tend to as a teenager, it had always been a very real thing that at some point, the time would be up and he would maybe have to decide.

He had chosen Kaworu. Without a second thought and, so he had been sure, without having to regret it later. And for a whole day, it had all been too good to be true. Too perfect to last. Nathalie and Justus and Kaworu looking like a real family, acting like one, being a family. A long walk with Scraps, just as always. And in the evening, he had finally found the courage to give in and just surrender to what he had been desiring for so long.

And then Kaworu had told him to go back.

Shinji stifled a sob. He didn't want to cry, he had cried too much already. He wasn't a girl, he wasn't weak, he... was terribly weak.

Kaworu did indeed have a point, how could Shinji burden himself onto Kaworu and his parents? Didn't they have enough worries already besides taking in a grubby street kid? Did he really want to intrude on their small family, on what was so slowly growing together again? He certainly had no right. He couldn't just demand a greater place in Kaworu's life without asking, throwing him a curve by practically leaving him no choice to negate. But Kaworu had said no, and, so Shinji felt, really, it had only been natural. Hadn't he somehow been playing on the fact that he couldn't go back now? That he wasn't welcome at the factory anymore? Secretly hoping that Kaworu would pity him and say, "yes, of course you can stay" and then just stop talking to push him back onto the mattress and undress him and make him forget for the moment?

He was so pathetic...

Even though he felt like just running on and on, Shinji couldn't help but notice at some point that his body wouldn't be a party to doing that and he finally stopped at a street corner, wheezing and holding his sides that stung with pain as he breathed.

Pathetic...

Remembering that after running, it was best to go on slowly, he reluctantly did so. He felt stupid, trying to avoid muscle ache when he felt like his whole life was just crashing into a wall, but it was comfortingly normal and although it didn't keep his mind from misery, it helped somewhat nonetheless.

He had already walked for some minutes when Shinji started looking around, taking his surroundings in for the first time. He didn't recognize much. Or rather, practically nothing. He couldn't remember having ever been in this part of the city before. The streets were dirty and narrow, the houses framing them with high walls, looming threateningly above him. Shinji felt very small.

He went on in silence, feeling strangely numb. Where was he going to stay the night? He had only twice really slept in the streets. The others had picked him up two days after he had run away from home. He had always slept on his mat, with his thin blanket. The others had always given him a sense of safety. He had never felt alone, if anything, just lonely. But that, too, had faded as time had passed. And now here he was, feeling neither safe nor in good company.

Pathetic.

Shinji cringed when echoes of harsh voices resounded from the walls, laughter, jeering. A pained wince, like from an animal. He felt his heart beat loudly in his ears. He should never have come here...

As he reached a corner, he saw what all the noise was about. In a small back alley, four youths stood, seemingly kicking something lying on the floor. They looked older than him, but he was bad at guessing ages and it was so dark...

He stared in horror as he realized what was going on as the obscure something on the ground moved. The dog yowled heart-breakingly, trying to get up, but all it received was another kick and, wincing, it pressed itself against the wall.

"HEY!"

Something inside his head told him that he was being stupid as his voice rang loudly in the dark, but he had already switched off rationality. He didn't want to think now. He just wanted to forget his own misery.

The youths turned simultaneously, faces obscured by their jackets' hoods, and he shuddered. This was like some bad horror movie. One of them came over slowly, leisurely, obviously feeling very self-confident. Miraculously enough, Shinji did too. Must have been the adrenaline.

"Did you say something?" the youth asked roughly. His voice was much deeper than Shinji's. He was very close now.

Shinji frowned. "Yeah." He heard himself sound way braver than he felt. "Leave the dog alone. Brawl with someone who's your size." Oh, he hadn't just said that...

The youth grinned. Shinji could just barely make out his mouth, the rest of his face was overshadowed by the hood of his sweater. He shuddered. The other one bend over slightly, bringing his face level with the brunet's. "Someone like you, you say?"

And then it all happened very quickly, leaving very little time for Shinji to do much more than gather memories of what happened and silently, guiltily, praying that maybe Kaworu would look for him, would find him, would do something...

He was roughly grabbed by the collar and pulled forwards. The others had let go of the dog and come over, snickering. Shinji felt sick.

The boy closest to him, obviously some kind of leader, made an indefinable gesture in their direction. "Someone wants trouble," he announced, coarsely pushing Shinji towards them. The brunet just barely suppressed a moan as he fell to his knees. When he had just been slowly walking down the streets, his legs had complied obediently as always, albeit a little painfully, but now they began aching again from the running and forsook him. Traitors...

And then his memory just went blank until it all was over, trying to keep the pain from his consciousness. But the fists and elbows and feet hitting again and again and again weren't so easy to block out and he felt something snap around his neck as they tugged at his collar again, he felt so numb that he didn't even notice the small clink as something fell to the floor, into his blood.

He vaguely remembered trying to scream, for help, for someone, for Kaworu. But no sound left his mouth because he knew he would just have sobbed.

When they finally stopped, sauntering off with a laugh like they had merely been playing some great new game, he just stayed where he was, lying on the dirty ground, half unconscious.

It was ridiculous, what he thought of. Thinking that on one hand maybe he'd have better been a girl so the whole stupid issue about him being with Kaworu wouldn't exist, but then remembering that maybe it was better he wasn't. Who knew what they would have done to him if he had been a girl, helpless, alone in the dark back alley. He suddenly felt the strong need to have Asuka here, to tell her just how wonderful she was and that she mattered so much to him, even though he loved Kaworu. How much he admired her and that he was sorry for not being able to return the feelings she had for him, but that he would always be there for her if possible. And that he would protect her from something like this.

It seemed like an eternity had passed before he managed to drag himself up. His clothes were torn in several places and there was blood. At his mouth, his shoulder. His hand. On the pavement...

There was a sniffling sound, and he looked up. The dog had risen, and came over to him, carefully, slowly. It stopped at his feet and leant up to lick his hand. He wanted to smile, but he was too tired, so he just vaguely moved his hand to pat it. But the animal just made a step back, looked at him once more for a long moment, and vanished into the dark.

Shinji stumbled as he made his way down the street, slowly, ever so slowly, one step in front of the other. He couldn't think anymore, just felt dizzy. He couldn't concentrate on more than just keeping upright, and he still had to support himself on the wall.

But at some point, he just couldn't go on anymore and he slipped, hitting something hard with his head, a sharp pain spreading throughout his whole body and he felt like he shattered into pieces like a broken mirror as he collapsed on a doorstep.

He wondered vaguely where he was, if he had gone mad, because he heard voices. They sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't determine if they were real or just in his mind.

"You kiss me like that and then just ask such a random question? Give me a break, I need some blood up in my brain first to start thinking again."

Familiar, yes... But who was it? Whom had he kissed?

"You are a good child, Shinji."

Who had said that? Surely not his own father...

"You succeeded where I failed."

And that? A woman, mature. A mother? Whose mother?

"You're bleeding."

Yes... Yes, he was. He could feel the liquid streaming from his wound, thick and warm. But when had he been wounded to make someone say that? Who had said it?

And then there was just the dull, throbbing ache as the world drowned in darkness.

----------

Shinji stared at the candle. What had happened?

----------

"He's not here?" Asuka's voice was croaky as she spoke. Kaworu had ushered her into the living-room upon seeing that she was completely frozen, and had given her a blanket that she now protectively held wrapped around her shoulders. Her fingers seemed very frail and white against the red blanket.

Kaworu shook his head. She noticed how weary he looked, but at the moment, it didn't matter much to her.

"Why?" she asked, frowning slightly. She hadn't come here to sit around with Kaworu, talking. She felt slightly feverish. She had always known that sleeping in that small, dusty, cold room would make her sick some day, but not now...

"We - he told me what happened with Shiro, Asuka," he began, staring down at the cup of tee in his hands. "What he said and all that."

She shrugged. "Yeah, I supposed he would. So what? Didn't you snog him or whatever you deem right to brighten his mood up?" Her voice was full of disgust, but he didn't even go into it. He seemed to take no notice at all of her rather nasty remark.

"Well, we talked, and... See..." He ran a hand through his hair groggily.

"What?" she asked aggressively. Suddenly, she didn't even want explanations. All that mattered was that she wanted to see Shinji, now, and that he wasn't here although he had come to Kaworu for help.

"We had an argument, alright?" Kaworu knew his voice sounded defiant and, honestly, he didn't care.

"An argument?" Asuka repeated tonelessly. He nodded, resting his forehead in his hands.

"We - well, we had differences, and he-" Kaworu absent-mindedly raised a hand to his cheek and Asuka could guess what it meant, but it only served to satisfy her somewhat. Served him right. An argument... "He ran away, and of course I searched for him, but, I-" He broke off.

"Ran away?" she repeated again. Kaworu merely nodded miserably. "You let him run away?!"

He stared at her as she started screaming at him.

"He was just going through all that shit with Shiro for you and you fucking moron let him RUN AWAY?!" Her throat was tight with anger. She saw his eyes widen and, honestly, how did he dare to stare like that when he had completely fucked up?

"Asuka, I tried..." Oh, how feeble it sounded. A stupid excuse for an even more stupid failure.

"I DON'T CARE!" She was clutching at the front of his shirt now, she wanted to hurt him, something, something... "First you steal him away from me and then you have nothing better to do then letting him bunk?! What kind of boyfriend are you?! Don't you even know how much he gave up to be with you?!" Damn, there were tears in her eyes now... She wasn't even sure if they were ones of anger or of sadness. It didn't matter anyway because, at that moment, it was just one and the same to her. And thus, she just continued screaming. She didn't know what else to do. She felt so hollow...

"I already wanted him when you hadn't even ever laid eyes on him and he wouldn't even look at me! He wouldn't even look at me!" She jerked at his shirt violently. Gods, how she hated him... "And you only happen to be in the right place and he immediately screws his own life over for you and you have nothing better to do than argue with him?! Didn't he matter all that much to you or what?!" She was so close, so close to just fainting with hate and despair and that damn throbbing headache...

"I hate you!" she sobbed, still clawing at his shirt. "I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU!"

And then everything went black as the pain took over and she slipped into merciful oblivion, barely noticing the pain as she hit the floor.

----------

I'm sorry that at the beginning I messed around a little with the timeline, hope it didn't confuse you too badly.

I have my first lolita brand clothes now and I'm, like, so happy. The dress is gorgeous, and it fits me pretty well - I was very afraid it might be too small or too short, but it's just fine.

People here at my school bother me a lot - if the only other gymnasium (most "difficult" school form in the German education system) here didn't cost fees, I'd totally change now. I hate it here. I get along with people online, with people I meet on the street, I always just hear, "Oh, she's such a nice and kind girl". Just my school is a total bunch of idiots - or maybe I just don't meet their standards. I don't know. I sound like a whiney bitch.