Standard Disclaimer:
Takeuchi Naoko, Koudansha, TV Asahi, and Toei Douga created this series and the following characters. I do not own these characters, it's just that the story is mine! At any rate, that's all for a disclaimer. Please don't take this story from me. Please don't sue me. Just in general, don't do bad things to me, unless you're criticizing the story, and even then, constructive criticism please! No flames. If you type in all caps, I will assume it's a flame and won't bother reading your e-mail. I can be reached at PsSerenity@hotmail.com.
Introduction:
This story...is something that took me a long time to write. Even now, as I re-read this story, it's flawed. The words don't mean enough. They can't show you what I'm feeling. But it still means a lot to me. ...Very loosely based on Sailor Moon, it takes place in the Silver Millennium (yes, yes, the place. Baka.). I took the characters out of context and took my interpretation of their personalities during that particular time period to the extremes.
The plot of the story itself comes from a dream I had a few years ago. The dream had nothing to do with Sailor Moon. It involved me and the people who were important to me at that time. I just changed the names of the characters, expanded the plot, and so this story was created. *sighs* If you're reading this, I'm assuming you at least have some knowledge of the manga version Sailor Moon, though you don't necessarily need it.
Title of the story comes from a quote "Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt" which a TJ drama alum of '95 wrote up in our wood room. I liked the way it sounded, and for some reason, I decided that this would be title of my story. Take your own meaning, it's impossible to actually explain what it means.
*shrugs* If you're easily upset, don't read this. It may be triggering for some. My writing isn't particularly brilliant or even good, but some people, for some strange reason, have said they enjoyed this story, and that they understand me better because of it. Whatever. Just read.
And Nothing Hurt
It must be almost dawn, Endymion thought. He couldn't really tell, though. It was pitch black, besides that, pouring rain. His soaked clothing stuck uncomfortably to his skin, making him shiver. In the distance he could vaguely make out his home, no light flickering from the windows. Silently, he hoped his father had gone to sleep, perhaps not even noticing his absence.
He hadn't meant to stay out all night, but he so rarely got the chance to meet Selenity. It was getting progressively more difficult to find time to meet with her. Since his father was beginning to get suspicious about his frequent disappearances, Endymion had to pick times that were either in the middle of the night or while his father was away. If his father found out about Selenity...
Endymion shook his head regretfully, trying to shake away his depressive thoughts as he reached the front of his house. He hesitated as he reached for the door handle. Should I go in? Tiredly, he pressed his forehead against the wood of the door, watching the water drip off his face. Or is it safer to just stay here? He wrestled with his instincts, attempting to convince himself that he should just go inside. After several minutes, he lifted his head, and pushed the door open.
The interior seemed darker than it was outside making Endymion hesitate in closing the door. Dismissing his fears, he shut it and began to make his way through the dining hall, towards the stairs. Maybe his father really hadn't noticed. If he could just get upstairs...
"Where have you been?"
Endymion's heart dropped. Damn, he thought, brushing wet hair from his eyes as he strained to see his father in the darkness. He could see his figure sitting at the table waiting for an answer. Staring past his father and up the staircase, he could vaguely make out the door to his room. But I can't make that. I'm not fast enough. Shit. How the hell do I explain this?
"Out," he mumbled, the response echoing clearly throughout the large room. He stepped back instinctively as he sensed his father's mood darken. Closing his eyes, he heard the chair that his father had been sitting in scrape against the stone floor as he stood. Endymion took another step backwards, tensing in anticipatory fear.
It was a hard punch to the stomach. Endymion moaned as he fell to the ground gasping for breath.
"Weak," his father muttered, staring at his son's body. "I told you not to talk back to me."
I didn't talk back. I answered his damned question, Endymion thought bitterly. He kept his eyes tightly closed and didn't answer his father again. Finally, he heard him turn, and waited for his footsteps to fade down the hallway before rolling onto his back. The pain in his chest had receded rather quickly. It wouldn't bruise this time. Taking another deep breath, he forced himself to stand and continue on upstairs to his room.
- - -
"Endymion. Come on, open the door. It's way past time to get up!" Kunzite knocked on the prince's door impatiently. "You know you aren't supposed to sleep past seven! Keep this up and you're going to miss breakfast."
Endymion opened his eyes sleepily, only to be blinded by the bright sunlight filtering through his window. Shutting his eyes again, he decided to ignore the annoyed general pounding on his door. Exasperated, Kunzite hit the door one last time before deftly picking the lock. He let the door creak open slowly before entering to glare angrily at Endymion's half-asleep body.
"Get up, Endymion. Unless, of course, you'd rather your father come get you."
"It's too early," he mumbled, trying to squint through the sunlight to see his friend.
"I'm serious. You know you can't afford to miss another meal. You haven't eaten for almost two days! Sometimes I swear you're trying to get yourself sick."
"I had a really late night. Can't you give me a break?"
"I can, he won't," Kunzite said pointedly. "Now get up."
With a complaining groan, Endymion sat himself up. Glancing down, he realized his clothes were still wet.
"Ugh. I can't believe I fell asleep in these."
"You really are trying to get sick, aren't you? Well, hurry up and change into some dry clothing so you can warm up a little before you head downstairs."
Mechanically, Endymion obeyed and began to strip. Having Kunzite around was almost as good as having a mother. Actually, it was more a combination of Kunzite and his three other companions. They all watched over him constantly, trying to keep his health in the best shape possible. As he pulled off his heavy black undershirt, he noticed his friend flinch. Ignoring the reaction, he stood and pulled a dry shirt from his closet. But he couldn't help but stop and stare at his reflection in the mirror. His chest was laced with wounds in various stages of healing. Black, purple, blue and green bruises further decorated the mixture of reds.
"That one," Endymion looked up to see Kunzite's reflection pointing at his back. "It's new, isn't it?"
"Shut up."
"It is! It wasn't there last week. Damn it, Endymion. Why do you let him do this to you?"
"It's not your problem."
"Right, it's not my problem, I'm only supposed to guard you with my life!"
"I told you to leave this alone," Endymion snapped, turning to face his guardian angrily. "If you can't shut up then don't look at me."
Kunzite looked down, anger reddening his face. Endymion glared at him a moment longer before continuing to change.
"But...Endymion..." Kunzite started again.
"Leave it alone!" Endymion yelled irritably as he finished pulling on his shirt. He pushed past his furious general and headed downstairs.
- - -
Lunch began at precisely noon everyday. It was an hour long, allowing thirty minutes to eat, and another half hour for what Endymion's father called "family time". Today was different, though. The king had invited a princess from a nearby kingdom to dine with them. The girl was apparently an old acquaintance of Endymion's. They'd met once before at some party which he had no real memory of.
Endymion arrived early for lunch, at any rate. The food was already sitting there, cooling, as he wearily sat down at the table. Even during the day, the hall was darker than one would expect. With no windows or unnecessary furnishings, the room gave off a sort of detached aura.
How many hours have I sat here? he wondered. It's so damned dark all the time. I must have wasted half my life sitting here and waiting for my father. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes as his thoughts began to wander. Waiting. And waiting. But he would've been angry if I'd gotten here late, I guess.
The sound of his father entering brought Endymion to his feet. Stumbling slightly over his chair, he smoothed out his shirt before finally looking up at his father and the princess, followed closely by Endymion's four generals. Both were dressed elegantly for the occasion, and if the girl hadn't been so young, they could have been mistaken for husband and wife. Their eyes matched in emotion, at least. Smiling warmly, the king brought the princess to stand before his son.
"Beryl, this is my son, Prince Endymion. Endymion, you remember Princess Beryl, don't you?"
Endymion smiled falsely and bowed before the girl.
"Of course I do, father. How could I forget such brilliant radiance?"
"Oh, Endymion, you flatter me!" Beryl laughed and curtsied politely before taking the seat that had been pulled out for her.
As he made his way back towards his seat, Endymion fumed at the false mask he'd so easily presented. He hated the fine mannerisms that these social occasions forced him to present. The idea of socializing frightened him enough, but to add a mask only weighted him down further. Unconsciously, his breath quickened as he continued to maintain his friendly exterior. He stopped to stand by his chair as he waited for his father to be seated.
"Don't mess up," the low whisper floated maliciously into his right ear as his father walked by. Endymion's emotionless expression didn't change, but inside, he could feel himself shaking. Here I am again, lying to everyone, even myself. I'm all right. I love people. I like being here. I love my father. It's so easy to just lie like that, and then no one ever suspects the truth. Not Beryl. Not even Selenity.
"Please, Princess, help yourself," his father said, grinning widely as he finally took a seat. Endymion sat, and tugged at the napkin before straightening it in his lap. He stared absently at the silverware, thinking of how annoying it was to have so many different utensils. Without guests, there was rarely more than a fork and spoon set out to pick at the food with.
"This food is delicious, my lord. My compliments to the chef," Beryl replied. She smiled politely before continuing to eat, the king watching her carefully. Endymion wondered what made this particular girl so important. She didn't seem much of anything with her frizzy red hair and not particularly flattering dress. Her coloring looked strange really, here among the blacks and grays. Her eyes, however, didn't betray any emotion, giving a look that Endymion was all too familiar with.
"Endymion, how have you been? It's been ages since we last talked," Beryl spoke again. Endymion blinked, realizing that he'd blanked out.
"Forgive me, Princess. My mind must have wandered."
"Oh, please, don't be so formal. Call me, Beryl."
"Well...Beryl, then. How long has it been since our last meeting?"
"Over a year. You can only imagine my surprise when your father invited me to this lovely meal today."
"Mhm," Endymion nodded, trying to sound interested. He could hear Zoiscite snickering from the other end of the table. He glanced at him, trying to tell him to keep quiet when he became suddenly conscious of the hall's uncomfortable silence. Looking guardedly back at his father, he realized that he was supposed to be saying something. When he didn't speak, his father's stare turned into an angry glare.
"You must forgive my son's rudeness, Beryl. He hasn't been feeling too well as of late, and I'm afraid that such a large meal is upsetting to his stomach. Endymion, would you rather skip over this lunch?"
"Oh, you're right, father," Endymion reddened in embarrassment, and glared harshly at his generals, warning them not to comment. He forced another smile. "Thank you for being so concerned about me."
With a smirk, his father sat back in his chair, watching as Endymion dropped his fork unceremoniously onto his plate. Silently, Endymion cursed. Great, I've done it now. I'm dead as soon as she leaves.
"I'm sorry to hear you aren't feeling well, Endymion. If I'm being a bother...Would you like me to leave?"
"No! I mean...No, it's okay, Princess. Please stay and finish this meal. I'm fine," Endymion said, unable to hide the slight panic in his voice.
"Actually," his father cut in. "If you wouldn't mind leaving, Endymion does need his rest."
"Oh it's perfectly all right, my lord. I don't mind at all. And...I can see myself out, " Beryl stood, and began walking towards the front door.
"Don't forget to tell your parents of my offer!" the king called after her.
"Oh, I won't. They'll be delighted to hear the news!" she turned to curtsy one last time and smiling broadly, she left.
"Get out. Now." The mood of the room changed almost immediately. Endymion glanced sideways at his friends, urging them to leave. After a moment's hesitation, the four stood and exited by the kitchen door. When they were finally gone, the king turned back to his son. "What the hell was that?"
Endymion looked down. With the guest gone, there was no one around to protect him if he said something off-color.
"I don't understand you. I bring a beautiful woman into this house for a civil lunch, I give you food, I give clothes, I give you a home. All I want is a little fucking bit of obedience. All I expect of you is to follow my rules. Now. Can you tell me what possessed you to embarrass me front of that girl?"
"Is that all you care about?" Endymion asked softly, staring intently at the floor.
"What did you say?" his father asked, dropping his voice dangerously. When Endymion didn't answer, he continued. "Clean up this food and get started on your chores. You're not eating dinner tonight, either, got it? And if I catch you not working between now and whenever I decide you're done...You're dead. Understand? Now get out!"
Endymion cringed, and quickly began gathering the dishes under his father's eye. Why'd he have to say that? Unsteadily, he balanced the dishes in his hands and pushed into the kitchen. His generals sat there, expectantly. Dumping the load into the sink, Endymion turned to face their criticisms. Jadeite was the first to speak.
"He has no right to treat you like this, Endymion. You didn't do anything wrong!"
"You know what happens when I disagree with him," Endymion said icily. When no one else spoke up, he started again. "I'm going for a walk. Cover for me."
Before anyone could answer, he ran out the back door, slamming it angrily behind him.
- - -
He didn't have to say he'd kill me, Endymion thought hollowly as he forced his way through the thick forest. The path was well worn, but branches and thorns still obstructed his way and dug into his skin as he continued forward. It wasn't long before he found himself in a familiar clearing, where he spent his free time away from home. Sighing, he collapsed onto the ground.
He always says that. That he's going to kill me. He shifted, feeling the pain in his back as it pressed into the ground. He could still see Kunzite's reflection pointing accusedly at him, and the pain in his back shot through him anew. Groaning, he sat up to relieve the pressure, blinking several times trying bring his eyes back into focus. Damn, it's probably infected.
"Endymion, is that you?" He felt a gentle hand suddenly resting on his shoulder. Flinching away automatically, he stood and turned, half panicked.
"Oh! Selenity...I hadn't expected you..." Endymion faded and looked away, trying to pull together enough to put forth another mask. "I thought I wasn't going to see you until tomorrow night. At the ball, remember?"
"I...I just had to see you again. And for some reason, I was certain you'd be here today. I don't know why, really. But here you are," Selenity smiled brightly, and stepped forward, burying herself into Endymion's arms. He grimaced at the pressure she put on his chest, but hid the expression quickly, and smiled back, waiting for her to continue. "Are you sure we can't meet more often? It's feels so horrible being apart from you."
"I'm sorry, Selenity. I really am. But I can't risk...I mean...if my father..." he stuttered, trying to come up with a good excuse. Taking a deep breath, he started again. "I just can't. I'm not ready to tell my father about you yet, that's all."
Selenity sighed. Why was it that he persisted in thinking that she could love him so much and not know that something was bothering him? She leaned against his chest again, and closed her eyes, feeling his hands gently running through her hair. Looking up, she fought to smile again as she stared deeply into her lover's troubled eyes, those lying eyes...
"Someday, then?" she felt him relax almost immediately at the response.
"Someday," he whispered, kissing her deeply. Inside, he breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't questioned him further and he concentrated on the girl before him. It was so peaceful here, with a feeling of safety and comfort that he so rarely enjoyed. Tasting that sweet freedom on his lips, he could feel disappointment at these fleeting feelings welling deep inside him. Deepening the kiss further as he lowered the girl to the ground, he pushed all of his despair, his hatred, his pain into her lips. Please, Selenity. Understand me. I don't want to be alone anymore.
- - -
The sun was setting when Endymion finally began to make his way home. Selenity had left over an hour ago, but he'd lay on the ground, relishing the feelings she'd left him with, and at the same time doubting them. How can anyone's love be so altruistic? he wondered, half-waiting for her to betray him.
"Endymion!" the scream ripped through the woods' silence, and in the distance, Endymion could make out a blonde figure running towards him. As it came closer, he recognized Zoiscite, bright red and anger driven.
"Endymion! Let me kill him!" Zoiscite continued yelling, stumbling through the forest. Endymion quickened his pace and when he reached his friend's side, he fumed at the boy's deteriorated mental state.
"Damn it, Zoiscite, has living with me for ten years taught you nothing? How can you possibly have lived under my roof all this time without being able to control your emotions?" he demanded angrily. Zoiscite looked away from the prince, biting his lip to keep from yelling again, his eyes still full of passionate hatred. Endymion's expression softened. "What happened this time?"
Zoiscite looked at his prince, grateful for his sympathy, and tried to gather his thoughts before speaking.
"Please, excuse my outburst. You know my opinions of your father," he looked away again, embarrassed. "I...After you ran out, I spent the entire afternoon trying to protect you and keep him from noticing your absence. But you were gone for too long, Endymion. He was so angry with my lies, he started throwing things again. He apologized, like he does every time to me, but...Damn it. He's really after you this time. Please...Don't go back. I can't watch this happen again!"
Zoiscite looked desperately into Endymion's eyes, feeling a mortal fear for his friend's life. Looking at the grief reflected in those green eyes, Endymion almost considered listening. Almost. Instead, he shoved Zoiscite away, furious that he'd let his friend suffer by his own selfish actions.
"You still don't understand, do you. This pain...I would throw myself into that hell again and again if only it meant that...that..." he faded, his blue eyes flashing dangerously close to angry tears. "If it only meant that I could understand why. Why! Don't you get it? I can't let this go until I understand!"
Endymion stood abruptly, and continued down the path towards his home. Zoiscite sat back, still biting his lip, this time to keep from crying in anger and terror. He watched the boy's figure fade into the distance, and hated himself.
"God!" he screamed furiously, before dropping his voice to a whisper. "God...Why am I damned to protect the one person who would refuse my help?"
- - -
The torment of waiting was always horrid. Wondering how hard the beating would be this time. When he'd been younger, more naive, he used to wonder if he'd get hit. But now... Endymion sat nervously across the table from his father.
His father was more composed now, or at least more so than when he'd attacked Zoiscite earlier that evening. He was normally indifferent to his generals, saving his anger...no, concentrating it on his son. Perhaps he realized that his son would not permit otherwise.
Cloaked in shadow, Nephlyte watched the two from the upstairs balcony. Neither was even slightly aware of his presence or of his silent screams of protest as he watched their deadly game begin.
Never attack without reason. That was the first rule. Each beating needed a purpose, some reason for discipline. If a reason can't be found, somehow provoke the son into a fight. If nothing else, catch the boy in a lie.
"Where were you today?" the man made the first move.
The question had been expected, and yet Endymion was still unprepared. Silently, he swore, desperately thinking of a lie. Staring fixedly at the ground, he thought of Selenity briefly. She had to be kept out of this. This was his burden to bear, not hers. With that thought, he'd already lost.
"I...I finished my chores early and had some free time. So I went for a walk. Alone," Endymion lied, almost skillfully, but the pauses in his speech gave him away. A cruel smile twitched across his father's lips.
"You're lying," his father said, standing up abruptly. He gazed coldly at his son for several seconds, considering, before continuing. "Tell me, Endymion. What happened the last time you disobeyed and lied to me?"
Endymion didn't trust himself to answer, and continued to stare at the ground, feeling the beginnings of fearful tears burning in his eyes. Memories flashed across his blurry vision, and he saw his past repeat itself again, that damned past he could never leave behind. He saw himself, a young boy of six, starved, and shivering in a dark closet, crying. A boy of ten, staring hollowly at his bloodied reflection in the mirror. Finally, a boy at fifteen, screaming in pain, as Jadeite helped him to set his broken leg back into place. And now he was seventeen. Still a scared little boy. Still too weak to defend himself.
"Don't you remember?" he asked, the anger growing in his voice. "Don't you know what happens to boys who lie?"
The last question was whispered, a cruel laughter hinting in his father's voice, and then silence. Endymion didn't dare speak. Instead, he bowed his head in defeat, and tensed in anticipation of the next move in the game. With one swift movement, his father reached his side, and shoved him violently to the floor. His head cracked sickeningly against the floor, and he felt the first blood drip down his face.
He struggled to stand again, only to be punched repeatedly. Shuddering in pain, and fighting to breath, Endymion continued to stand, taking each punch, trying to keep his body from betraying his weaknesses. Soon though, he felt his blood intermingling with the tears he hadn't meant to show.
"Don't cry!" his father screamed, grabbing Endymion and shoving him backwards onto the dining table. He felt one of the dinner knives ripping into his back as he landed and closed his eyes, trying desperately not to scream in pain. "Get up, you damned weakling!"
Endymion lay motionless on the table, finding himself too scared to obey.
"I said get up!"
The boy's hands slipped in his own blood on the table as he struggled to sit up. Feeling the red stickiness between his fingers, his pent up sobs finally let loose. He gasped uncontrollably, trying to draw air into his bruised lungs. Seeing his son's weakness only enraged the man further. In fury, he clutched at another one of the dinner knives.
"God damn it. You want something to cry about, I'll give you something to cry about!" Endymion shut his eyes again, crying harder as he felt his shirt being half-ripped and half pulled up to reveal his bare chest.
"Please...don't," Endymion whispered, but it was too late. He felt his skin rip and looked down to another deep wound lacing his chest. Only half aware of the pain shooting through his body, he began to dizzy from blood loss. "Please...I'm sorry. Please, oh god, please stop..."
Nephlyte watched the scene play out below him, until what seemed an eternity later, his prince lay on the cold stone floor. He was still sobbing heavily, and his breathing was labored as he struggled in and out of consciousness. Blood and unconscious tears leaked out into a messy puddle on the floor. Finally, as Endymion drifted into his troubled dream world, Nephlyte closed his eyes to feel cold tears slipping down his face. He turned his back on his friend, and walked away.
- - -
It was dawn when Endymion struggled awake again. The weak sunlight filtering into the hall through the front door seemed entirely too bright. It'd been a long time since his father had succeeded in beating him unconscious, and yet he'd been surprised when his father left him so early in the night.
He grasped the end of the table firmly and pulled himself up, flinching. As soon as the nausea and pain from merely standing faded, he began limping heavily up the stairs to his room. The entire process seemed to take longer, and by the time he collapsed onto his bed, tears were falling from his face.
The bed was warm and comfortable compared to the floor he'd slept on through the night. Unable to resist, he closed his eyes and drifted into a light sleep.
An hour passed before the creaking of the door awakened him. Jadeite stood in the doorway, watching him. His eyes gave away every thought, every emotion he felt as he regarded his prince. Endymion struggled to sit up and face his friend.
"Good morning," Endymion muttered coarsely.
Jadeite closed the bedroom door, and sat down next to Endymion trying not cringe at his prince's appearance. He'd been through this too many times to let it sicken him now. But he found himself staring anyways. The black undershirt that Endymion always wore was ripped beyond repair, not hiding the still fresh slashes and blue-purple bruises on his chest and back.
"Same as every time, I suppose. While you...clean up, I get the blood out of your bed sheets, and burn these ruined clothes," Jadeite said, dispassionately. Endymion nodded in response, and shifted as he began to undress. Jadeite sighed heavily.
"Endymion. I know you're going to see Selenity tonight. How are you going to explain your limp, or..." he paused, gingerly touching the ripped skin on the back of his prince's neck. "...or...this?"
"I'll think of something," Endymion said sharply, glaring at Jadeite's questions. "I'm not exactly in the mood to think about her right now."
Jadeite shook his head sorrowfully. The man would die rather than admit something was wrong. Slowly, he picked the blood-soaked clothing off of his prince's bed, and began to get rid of the evidence.
- - -
Taking a deep breath, Endymion steadied himself. It was ten in the morning now, much later than the time he was supposed to have awakened. Jadeite had helped him to bandage his new wounds, and the disinfectant was still stinging sharply. His father would be waiting, of course. This was perhaps the hardest part, the last step of his complete and utter obedience to his father. Clenching his fists, as if to draw strength from them, he made his way downstairs.
His father was already there, sitting, waiting, smirking. More than likely he'd been waiting there since breakfast. Mentally, Endymion struggled to force himself to continue walking. When he reached his father's side, he kneeled before him, bowing his head.
"Good morning, Endymion."
Endymion grimaced and shut out his mind, finally compelling himself to speak.
"Father, please forgive me."
"You made me angry, you know."
"I know and I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to disobey you."
His father sat back in his chair, as if contemplating his son's words, when he already knew what he was going to say next.
"Look at me, Endymion," he said. Endymion kept his head bowed. It was humiliating enough to have to do this, to account for the wrongs he hadn't committed. "I said look at me!"
After a long moment, Endymion obeyed.
"Into my eyes."
Fearfully, he lifted his head and gazed into his father's cold eyes.
"Now what do you have to say?" his father kept his eyes locked to Endymion's, and the boy felt himself stop breathing for a moment before he began to hyperventilate.
"I...I'm sorry, father. I've...disgraced you by my foolish actions. ...And I deserved it all, and your punishment was...if anything, too lenient. I know...I know that...," Endymion faded, unable to finish, straining to breathe. As he continued to struggle, he felt cold tears fearfully slipping down his face.
"You aren't finished yet."
"But father!" Endymion cried out, begging not to be forced to continue. His insolence was rewarded with a slap. The pain stung bitterly on his skin and he cringed away involuntarily, forcing himself to continue staring into his father's cold eyes.
"Finish what you were saying. What's the last part, Endymion?"
"I...You're the only one, father. What you did...was for my own good. You don't really want to hurt me. You did it because you love me. You..." Endymion stuttered noticeably, blinking away the tears blurring his vision. "You...Father...You're the only one who will ever love me."
"Good. I'm glad you remembered," his father paused, smiling, almost comfortingly. Thoughtfully, he stood and placed his hands on his son's shoulders. "Endymion, I really do love you."
"I know," Endymion whispered coarsely, feeling his father's hands running gently through his hair, relief flooding through him. Finally, he felt his father kneel and pull him into a tight embrace. That's right...He just loves me so much that... the thought faded for a moment, before picking up in a new direction. I deserved it.
"You can go," his father said, standing again. Endymion rose slowly and bowed, pain shooting through his leg as he walked away. Re-entering his room and he collapsed onto his bed again. The pressure created new pains racing through his body. Closing his eyes, he wiped the tears from his face.
Weak, he thought to himself hatefully.
- - -
He'd never expected it to turn out this way. His life. He'd always dreamed of a better life. No one would ever hurt him and everyone would love him. Childish. Then...as I got older...it faded. That hope that someday, someone would realize something was wrong and come to my rescue. That someone would help me. And he got worse every year. When I was younger, he just locked me in that god awful closet for days on end. Then, after my mother died...he hit me. And it's gone from there.
His mother had never loved him, he was sure. If she'd really loved him, she wouldn't have died, she wouldn't have left him to live alone with that man. But his father loved him, more than anyone else, more than even Selenity. No one saw him for what he really was except for his father. Nothing more than a weak child who couldn't defend himself, who did everything wrong and always messed everything up.
He's the only one that knows how awful I really am. And he's only trying to help. He's trying to make me a good person...That's why he killed her. Because she didn't see me for what I am...
She'd died under "mysterious circumstances". Or at least, that's what was said in the official report. No one actually knew what happened. Endymion, on the other hand, knew the truth. At a young age, he'd realized that his parents' relationship was neither a happy nor a functional one. Arranged for a strategic political alliance between their two powerful kingdoms, his mother had unwillingly married his father. After his birth, the arguments had started.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Endymion had always blamed himself for his mother's death. It was the proof his unconscious mind needed to prove that he deserved the life he lived. He'd been awake the night she'd died.
"You let him out of that closet right now!"
Scared, Endymion pulled himself as far away from the closet door as possible. The thin strip of light coming through the bottom of the door didn't comfort him. Desperately, he wanted to press himself against that light. Everyone knew that the monsters couldn't catch you if it was light.
He shivered, and breathed deeply, forcing himself to stay as far away from that saving light as possible. He would only get hurt if his father caught him near the door. He bit his lip, tasting the blood dripping down his chin as he fought to keep from crying out as the darkness suffocated him.
"I told you to let him out, you bastard. He's a child! How can you do this to-"
Curling up into a ball, Endymion lay on the ground, eyes wide with fear at the sudden break in the screaming, as it faded into vague sounds of struggle. He tried urgently to keep from crying out, to keep from making his father angrier by disobeying his order to keep quiet. He squeezed his eyes together, trying to ignore the darkness grasping at him. He felt its pressure crushing his chest, and unconsciously, he opened his mouth.
"Mama..." he whimpered. After that, there was no restraint left to hold back his panic. He screamed, louder. "Mama! Oh god, mama...Let me out! Please let me out! Mommy!"
He pounded on the door, screaming, praying with all his heart that she'd let him out, that she'd protect him from his father, that she'd make it all better like she always did...
"You spoiled brat!" The door was flung open, and Endymion tumbled out. Before he could adjust to the bright light, he felt his head snap up as someone grabbed his hair and dragged him roughly across the floor.
"Mama..." he whimpered again, keeping his eyes shut. In response, his head was jerked back sharply, and he felt his father's breath along his cheek.
"Open your eyes, Endymion," his father whispered, maliciously. Fear flooding through him, the young boy cringed away and refused. He felt his father grow impatient, and there was a sudden blinding pain in his chest. Choking, he opened his eyes in shock. All he could see was blood.
"Mama?" he whispered, staring emptily at the woman's body in front of him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered that his father had released him. "Mama...Mama...Oh god, Mama, please talk to me. Mama, wake up!"
Frantically, the little boy shook his mother's shoulders only to let more of her blood leak out onto the floor.
"Oh god..." he whispered over and over, burying his face in his mother's blood-stained chest. Dimly, he felt his father leaning over him again.
"Look what you did, Endymion. If you'd just been a good boy, she could have lived. Why can't you be good?"
"Why...Why can't I...," shaking, Endymion slowly brought himself to reality. Standing, he once again found himself staring emptily at his reflection in the mirror. Removing his shirt, he gazed at the fresh bandages and traced the wounds with his fingers, pressing, feeling the gentle throb of a laceration trying to heal despite constantly being re-opened. It was a familiar feeling by now. But then, who was he without this feeling of un-ending hopelessness? Lost, scared, and confused. His mother had died trying to protect him...She'd died for him. So it was his fault, then. Everything was his fault.
Letting his hand fall to his side, he continued staring at his reflection. He deserved everything. All of the torture, the beatings, the missed meals, the lost blood, the sleepless nights. Everything. Anger slowly began to boil inside of him. As he studied himself in the mirror, he felt his hatred for everything, for himself grow until he wanted nothing more than to scream. That deep, never-ending scream infused with blind agony.
He punched the stone wall next to the mirror, hard. Pain registered as he moved his hand away, scraping the skin further. The feeling subsided.
Moving slowly away from the mirror, he glanced briefly inside his closet. A collection of long-sleeved black outfits stared out at him, and briefly, he felt his heart quicken at the darkness there. Scolding himself for his stupidity, he pulled out his one formal suit, worn only to extremely important occasions. Meeting Selenity was one such occasion.
He smiled at the mere thought of her. Such beauty, such grace, such...innocence. He hated innocence, and yet, in her, it only made his love for her grow. Her complete and utter devotion to all life, to that belief that no one was truly evil... Perhaps it was this innocence that attracted him to her.
But...she doesn't know who I really am. If she knew who I really was...she'd hate me, he thought as he finished dressing. But he shrugged off the thought as he added a white mask to his ensemble. Deciding his appearance was acceptable, he closed his eyes and prepared to teleport to the Moon Kingdom, before a loud knock interrupted his concentration.
"Endymion, get up," he recognized his father's voice and froze. If he left now, his father would know he'd been gone and would punish him when he returned. If he stayed, his father would know he'd been planning on leaving by his dress. Panicking, he rushed to his bedroom door and leaned against it, hoping that he could keep it closed.
"I'm already up, father. I thought you told me to skip dinner tonight," he said, pushing his weight against the door.
"Come downstairs. Princess Beryl and her parents are joining us for dinner tonight to discuss the terms of your engagement," Endymion felt his eyes widen, and before he could stop himself, he'd flung the door open.
"My what?"
"And where did you think you were going tonight?" his father stepped into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him, ignoring the question.
"I...I was hoping..." Endymion stuttered, backing away.
"Hoping what?"
"I...wa...wanted to go to this...uhm....party..."
"A party? You knew I wouldn't let you go, so you were going to sneak out," his father snapped at him, barely keeping his anger in check. "We'll deal with this little...deception of yours later. Now get downstairs. Don't you dare embarrass me any further. You're already keeping the guests waiting."
"I...I can't..." Endymion tried to protest, and numbly felt his head snap sideways at his father's expected slap. His resolve faltered, and he looked away. "Please forgive me. I'll go, father."
"Good. Now move."
- - -
I can't believe he didn't come. Selenity found herself staring emptily at the blue Earth glowing above the moon. We'd planned this for so long. I wanted him to see my home so badly. And instead...
"You can go, Kunzite. Thank you for relaying Endymion's message," she turned, to face the general. He bowed briefly in response, but made no move to leave.
"Princess, please don't harbor any ill will towards my master because of this. He loves you deeply. Please give him time. There are still many things you have yet to learn about him."
"I know. Things which he hides from everyone, the same as you always tell me," Selenity sighed, and turned back to stare at the Earth. "Please feel free to visit Venus before you return to Earth. She's missed you terribly these past few days."
"I will take my leave then, Princess," Kunzite bowed lowly again, before exiting the room. When he was gone, Selenity turned again, and collapsed onto her bed. Without Endymion, the ball had been terribly dull. As always, prince after prince coming to introduce themselves to her, hoping that she might possibly grace them with a dance. Ordinary. Boring.
He promised he'd come, too. Damn it. He always breaks off our dates at the last possible moment. I really thought that...this time he'd come. And next time I see him, I'll ask him why he couldn't make it, and he'll lie. We'll both know he's lying. But it's not like I expect him to tell the truth anymore. Closing her eyes, she summoned her love's image in her mind. She could almost see him, that loving, teasing, smile, those dark clothes and...his eyes.
Since...we first met, I've always wondered about his eyes. I must have caught him off guard that first time. I couldn't really tell because it was raining so hard, but I think he'd been crying. When I came near him, he flinched away so suddenly, and looked up at me with such terror, such anger...desperation...such emotion that he's refused to reveal to me since then. Sighing, Selenity rolled over to bury her face in her pillow. These thoughts had bothered her since the first time Endymion had broken off a meeting with her for reasons he refused to explain. Such silly thoughts, too. Why am I so foolish? Any normal girl would have broken off her relationship with such a boy, and yet...
And yet, she'd promised Kunzite every time that she would wait for him. It didn't take much convincing really, because she was willing to wait for Endymion to trust her, but... Sometimes it was so disheartening. One moment, he'd say that she was the only one he'd ever trust, and the next he'd hide his emotions from her like he was afraid of her. And then those eyes again. They cry out to me, saying that he doesn't think I love him and I just can't understand...what he wants from me...
"Knock knock, Selenity," a gentle female voice invaded her thoughts. Without rolling over again to face the visitor, Selenity sighed, frustrated.
"Hey, Mars."
"You okay? You were looking a little depressed tonight."
"Oh? You're worried? That's not like you. Aren't you even going to scold me for being so impolite to all those men trying for my hand in marriage?" Selenity smiled in spite of herself.
"Although it's true you shouldn't reject them so blatantly as you do, I know that you could never marry any of them," Mars replied. "So, I guess he blew you off again."
"Yeah. Of course," Selenity sat up, straightening her dress. "I don't know what I expected."
"He sent Kunzite as usual, I guess," she paused a moment in thought before continuing. "You know, Jadeite's been the same way. He won't answer any of my questions about Endymion. The only way I got him to say anything was when I told him I could find out what he wasn't telling me through my fortune-telling."
"What did he say?"
"Well, he asked me...how I would feel if I had to protect someone who refused my help...," Mars moved to sit down on the bed, and laughed nervously. "I mean, what kind of silly question is that? If you've sworn your life to someone, you die for them. So I told him that. But he asked me, 'Well, what if they don't want to be protected? What if you had a friend who you knew was getting hurt by someone else, and you have the power to stop it, but your friend won't let you?' ... I couldn't answer him."
Selenity sighed again, half-wishing Mars would leave. This new information only clouded her thoughts further, the mystery growing. Vaguely listening to her friend scolding her for still seeing a boy who "clearly" didn't care for her, she lost herself in her own thoughts again. Maybe...he just needs some more time. She nodded, absently. I'll just tell him I don't want to see him until he's ready to talk to me. It...It'll be for the best.
- - -
"What?" Endymion finally managed a reply, keeping his voice flat, emotionless.
"I...I just think that you need some time, Endymion. You always miss our dates, and you never tell me why, or what's wrong, or anything! And I can't...I just can't deal with you if you don't tell me...what's wrong..." Selenity faded, looking down with tears in her eyes. "I love you with all of my soul, Endy. But...you're hurting me so much..."
"But..." he paused, trying to think. I can't just tell her why I always blow her off. It's not even my fault. God damn it. This would never have happened if my father... my... father... He felt his thought process fall apart. "Why can't you just understand? I can't tell you! If...if I told you..."
"What? If you told me you might be a fucking human being? Damn it, Endymion! For months I've done nothing but be patient, but try to be understanding, with Kunzite begging me to give you more time! But I can't do this anymore. I can't keep torturing myself over something that's wrong with you! I don't want to spend any more sleepless nights wondering why is it that you don't love me!" she was screaming now, and he flinched at the sharp tone in her voice.
"I don't love you?" Endymion whispered. "How can you even say that? You're the only good thing in my life, you make my life worth living!"
His mind raced, trying to interpret what she was saying. I don't love her? But that doesn't make any sense! I can't tell her, it's not that I don't trust her. It's just that... Blindly, he grabbed at her, and pulled her closer to him, trying to read her expression. How can she love me...if...she doesn't...she doesn't...
"Let go of me! Don't touch me!" Selenity continued yelling, trying to pull out of his grip. He tightened his grip, twisting her arm until she cried out in pain. "Endymion! Quit it, you're hurting me!"
What are you doing? He vaguely heard his mind screaming at him as he twisted her arm further, feeling the stretch of her muscles trying to compensate for the strain he was putting on her, hearing her scream...
Oh God.
He let go abruptly, not watching as she stumbled away and turned to stare at him incredulously. Instead, he stared at his trembling hands, trying to comprehend why he'd just...
"Selenity..." he cried softly. "Oh god, Selenity, I'm sorry, I'm so sor-"
He stopped short at the sudden stinging pain on the left side of his face. Raising his hand unconsciously to touch the new red mark on his face, he watched as the crying girl ran from him, teleporting away in mid-step. Staring hollowly at the now-empty clearing around him, he fell to his knees, shaking violently.
She...she... He stopped thinking for a moment, attempting to clear his mind. Closing his eyes, he let the sharpness of the pain fade into a dull throb. A familiar feeling. She must love me, he thought.
- - -
A week? Is that all?
Inside, Selenity felt her heart thump painfully at the thought of Endymion.
I can't believe I hit him. I'm supposed to be Princess of the Silver Millennium, for God's sake. Kind, beautiful, someone who never loses her temper... I was so upset at the time...but...that look he gave me...
He hadn't even looked surprised. True, he'd cringed away from her, but he didn't look like...like he'd hurt. She shuddered as she briefly recalled the memory, the glimpse of his reaction she'd caught before running from him.
She knew she'd hit him hard enough to expect some sort of reaction. And he had reacted, but it was so opposite to what she'd expected. The boy who had never seen fit to betray his true emotions to her had reacted. Shivering again, she replayed the scene in her mind over and over again.
Her hand hitting his left cheek leaving a glowing red mark on his face, and then...His bright blue eyes widening as he pulled away from her, raising his right hand to his throbbing cheek. But there! What was that look?
She tried to freeze the image in her mind, the look he'd given her as he winced away. It was like... Like...he'd expected more from me. Like he wanted me to...
To what? Hit him again? She laughed at herself uncomfortably, feeling slightly sick to her stomach. What kind of person would want to get hit? What kind of person...would...
- - -
"Endymion, what's your family like?" Selenity lay on her back, staring up at the Earth's beautiful blue sky. She turned her head to see his face and frowned at the troubled expression on his face. "Did I ask something wrong?"
"Oh no, don't worry about it, Selenity."
"Oh..." The silence stretched into minutes, before he started to speak again.
"My mother died a long time ago. When I was really young. She was really beautiful. The official report says she died under mysterious circumstances."
"Mysterious circumstances?"
Endymion paused, and Selenity could read the stress on his face. He was about to lie to her.
"Yeah. I was too young to know much of anything."
"Oh," Selenity said. "What about your father, Endy?"
If she hadn't been watching him closely, she wouldn't have noticed the brief flinch her question had caused. But he smiled at her.
"We get along. He's a little rough with me, sometimes, but that's okay. I deserve it," he said, still smiling.
"Oh. Okay," she said, dropping the subject because of his obvious discomfort, at the same time noting that if she wasn't so good at reading people's expressions, she would have never realized he was lying to her flat out. But...
- - -
I deserve it. Selenity paused over his words again, the sickening feeling in her stomach growing. Something about the finality, the seriousness in which he'd uttered the sentence...But her mind still couldn't grasp the idea. Sighing, she let the thoughts drop away, trying to clear her mind. It can't be that bad, right? All parents fight with their children. Even my mother and I. It's okay, he'll be fine.
But...
I deserve it.
- - -
"You'll be sorry someday, Endymion."
Endymion sighed, and stared forlornly at his meager dinner. Not this again. He would have groaned out loud if he hadn't been so sure his father would hit him again. Or else cause another argument between them. And he already knew the outcome of any fight he would ever have with his father.
"Are you paying attention?" Shaking briefly out of his thoughts, he nodded mutely, hoping his father would just continue. "Why aren't you eating?"
"I'm sorry, I'm just...not hungry," he lied, easily this time.
"After I'm dead, you're going to be so sorry. You think someone in this world gives a damn about you? Your family...I'm the only one that actually cares about you," his father continued on his original lecture. This time, Endymion kept himself half-fixated on the conversation and nodded every once in awhile, muttering answers if prompted.
He always said the same thing, that he would someday regret not being a good boy. That stupid boys like Endymion always regretted not being a better person when they were younger. Except somehow his father managed to stretch concepts that could be summarized in a few words to thirty minute rants.
It wasn't long before his thoughts began to drift back towards Selenity. Of course, she'd hardly escaped his thoughts this past week. Sometimes, he could still feel her slap searing more clearly into his skin than the half-healed gashes on his chest and back still leftover from the week before. She hadn't come back. She hadn't come back a couple days later to tell him she was sorry, that it would all be okay, that she really loved him, that she hadn't really meant to hurt him.
That's how it's supposed to work, isn't it? Then, she didn't really love him. She'd run from him, like everyone else he thought loved him. Like his mother. He half-sighed again, careful not to make it too noticeable.
Kunzite, Zoiscite, Jadeite, and Nephlyte. Even they hadn't seen the worst of him. They just assumed he didn't want his life. They just assumed he wanted to be free of all of this. But what the hell do they know? They came to live with us after mom...died. They don't ANYTHING! My father knows...knows...
His thoughts faded for a moment as his eyes slowly came to rest on the knife lying next to his dinner plate. Probably stained with my own blood, he thought bitterly. Visions of death danced tauntingly before him. How many night had sleep abandoned him as he sobbed, wanting nothing more than to clutch at that simple tool and slice as deep as could? But that would be weakness, wouldn't it? How many times had he held his sword to his neck, desperate to dare, to have the strength to end it all?
But then, to commit suicide would be the weak way to ease his pain, pain which he was sure he probably deserved, even if sometimes he had no idea why. And he couldn't stand weakness in other people. People who broke down simply because they were made fun of, because someone had hurt their feelings. People who didn't know what it was like to wake up in the middle of the night to incomprehensible screaming and the sharp pain of your body being thrown from your bed onto the floor.
Once, his father had walked in on one of his suicide attempts. After watching, his son slowly put down the sword under his cold gaze, he'd smirked.
"What's wrong Endymion? Can't you do it? Coward."
He'd laughed, and left the room, leaving Endymion to contemplate the blade lying on the table before him, glinting and thirsting for his blood. He could almost see it, his body slowly weakening until he couldn't stand, his blood dripping from the already stained tip of the sword. Drip. Drip. Drip.
But he hadn't been able to. Not that night, not ever. He couldn't bring himself to end his life, and he didn't know why. And which was weaker, anyways? The ability, the willingness to die, or the ability to bring oneself back from the very edge of self-hatred? Blinking, he realized his father had finally finished talking.
"May I be excused, father? I'm finished eating," he asked, wanting nothing more than to retreat to the safety of his room once more. If you could call it safety. At any rate, he'd be alone. Like he'd always been. And loneliness was a familiar feeling.
- - -
"He's dying," Kunzite shuddered as he gently closed the kitchen door after watching his master leave the table. Not knowing what else to say, he stared fixedly at his now shaking hands. Jerkily, he sat down with the rest of his companions. Jadeite turned to look at him briefly, and seeing the shaken look in his eyes, turned away again.
"We know, Kunzite. He's been dying since we first met him," Jadeite smiled, sorrowfully. "Do you remember? That day we swore our lives to him? The scent of death tugged at him then. Of course, we didn't understand why. What were we? Seven? Eight? How could we have understood?"
"I know. The scent of death has always been upon him. We could always smell it," Kunzite bitterly shut his eyes, masking his frustrated tears. "I know that! You think that I, the one who is closest to him, could be that ignorant?"
"Then... what do you mean?" Zoiscite shifted uncomfortably in his chair, trying to avoid Kunzite's gaze.
"I can see it," Kunzite whispered hollowly. "Can you? The darkness is eating away at him. It tears at him. His wings bleeds black blood, leaving the trail of death everywhere he walks. Not evil, like his father, but death."
Silence.
"I know," Nephlyte finally spoke. "He lost his soul years ago, Kunzite. He only found it again in that girl. Or rather, she returned it to him. A love which was fated to save him. But...she's run, taking that light from him again. And what can we do?"
"He's dying!" Kunzite shuddered again, raising his voice. "He's fucking dying at the hands of things beyond our power. Is that what you're telling me? It's beyond us? Leave him? I feel his blood in my veins. Why can't you? If he dies..."
"We know. But how would we save this boy? He was lost years ago! Do you remember that broken boy we met in the forest? His soul was gone then, while we tried to stop his bleeding, while we dragged his sobbing body back from that clearing to his father. We took him back!" Zoiscite stood abruptly.
You know, he hissed at them through his thoughts. We took him back to his hell. And we lost his soul then and there. That's why. It's our fault he's still here. So we bound ourselves to him, only to grow to love him more, and only to watch him slowly die.
That is our fate. To protect him from a death he's long been dying.
Death.
Wordlessly, Zoiscite turned, and vanished, leaving the others in cold silence. It felt like betrayal. The terror of the dark secrets they'd kept for him would finally see light, and it felt as if the universe would damn them for speaking the truth.
- - -
"Princess Mercury."
Pushing her glasses up, and shutting the book she'd been reading, she slowly stood, turning to face his familiar voice. A rush flew through her, and she almost smiled as she drank in his golden beauty.
"I'm surprised you had the nerve to show up here, Zoiscite."
"So cold? That's just like you, isn't it."
There was a pause as they both looked away from each other, tension growing. Still avoiding eyes, Mercury spoke again.
"Why did you come? You know my Princess wants nothing to do with any of you until your prince apologizes. You know that I want nothing to do with you until he fixes this mess!" her gaze finally fixed on the carpeted floor. "Well? Aren't you going to answer?"
"I didn't come to see you."
"Now who's being cold?"
"I came to you first. I know Princess Selenity will not grant me an audience unless you can convince her to do so."
"Did Endymion send you?" Mercury finally looked up again, suspicious.
"No," Zoiscite stared back, evenly. "I must talk to her. I have come to betray a trust I hold most dear."
His voice trembled, and in spite of his nervousness, he almost smirked, wondering how his master would have treated the emotion in his voice. Contempt, most likely. And he waited, watching the girl's blue eyes study his, looking for insincerity, looking for a perhaps malicious desire to hurt her princess. He held her gaze as he walked towards her, finally placing his hands heavily on her shoulders and drawing her body to his.
"You know I can't lie to you, Mercury. And the sooner I talk to Selenity, the sooner we can be together again. I love you," he whispered roughly, kissing her forehead. "But more than that, he's dying and she's the only one who can help. I'm...I'm so certain..."
Mercury buried her face in his chest, feeling herself close to tears.
"I miss you," she whispered, before pulling from his embrace. In a stronger voice, she continued. "And I believe you, of course. But Selenity's so stubborn..."
"She doesn't know. You don't know. None of you understand why. But Mercury, this isn't for you to know. It's Selenity's right to understand."
Pause.
"Come with me. Your desperation might sway her," Mercury smiled, comfortingly taking his hand to lead him through the palace. See, Endymion? Emotions aren't so bad.
- - -
I can't believe I've gotten myself into this, Endymion gritted his teeth as he again fought a dying urge to scream. I've been locked in this room since last night. God damn it, he might have left me a candle. He knows I hate this. He knows...
But that was the entire purpose. To make him scared, to make sure he was obedient. He knows he controls me. I know it. Damn it all, I know it. And I don't know how to escape it. Frustrated, he moved from his un-budging door and threw himself onto his bed, feeling, once more, the screaming pain in his body. I can't take this. I really can't take this. I haven't spoken to anyone in almost twenty-four hours, I haven't eaten...Gods, I know it used to be longer but I'm so weak. I'm...Oh gods, I'm so weak. I need someone.
He whimpered in spite of himself, feeling his self-control beginning to break down. Oh god, father, please open the door. I can't take this. I can't. I'm going to go crazy this time...
"Father..." he whispered, and in his bed he stared deeply into the darkness, sanity beginning to take its leave. "Father. Father. Father. Father."
He whispered the name over and over again, seeing the word form in his mind and force itself through his lips. Like a blanket, like it could protect him from the darkness knawing at his lost soul.
"Father. Please," he whispered again, with only darkness to answer him.
"Endymion," the voice was gentle, sweet, almost musical. He stood up quickly, trying to see the voice's owner through the shadows of his hell. A soft hand took his, gripping firmly, expecting his automatic flinch. "It's me, Selenity."
He felt his breath catch, momentary relief flooding through him, soon taken over by panic.
"Selenity, you can't be here," he whispered, beginning to hyperventilate, resisting the temptation to pull her into his arms and hold her until all the darkness faded away. "You shouldn't be here. If he..."
He faded again, pulling his hands from hers.
"He?" she questioned, her heart sinking.
"Nothing."
Slowly, she reached out, pressing a trembling hand against his chest. Ignoring his flinch, she brushed her fingers against him, feeling the many scars through his thin shirt, feeling his chest heaving in panic, feeling his muscles contract in pain. Fighting back tears, she stopped, leaving her hand pressed against his stomach.
"Endymion. What haven't you told me?" she asked him, softly, emotionlessly.
"Nothing," he repeated, moaning. "Please Selenity...Don't make me..."
He stopped again.
"Make you what, Endy?"
"I can't tell you," his voice trembled again. "Please don't make me."
I'll go crazy, he thought. I'll really lose it.
"Why are you afraid? Why is there no light in this room? Why were you whispering that name over and over again? Endymion. You can't lie to me," she said, trying to keep her voice steady as she felt the blood from a re-opened wound on his chest beginning to seep onto her hand. His trembling wasn't helping. "Endymion. Does he really?"
"I can't tell you," he whimpered again, sounding more like a lost boy than the man she'd fallen for. "I can't tell you... Don't make me tell you..."
"Stop saying that, for Gods sake! I need to hear it from you. Answer me! Does he?"
Silence. She felt the blood beginning to run down the back of her hand.
"Does he...what?" Endymion whispered, emptily. "What do you want me to admit to, Selenity? How do you expect me to express something that you yourself don't have the courage to?"
"Answer me," she repeated, pausing, knowing he was waiting. "Does he...does he...ever...hit you?"
He pulled back from her, and she could feel the bitterness of what she'd asked him.
"Hit me?" he whispered, coldly, emotionlessly, knowing somewhere in his mind that for the moment, that the world had gone insane. "Does he hit me, Selenity? Is that all?! God damn it. What the hell do you want from me? You want me to sell him out? You don't understand me."
"Does he?"
"Are you crazy? What parent hits their own child?"
"Stop lying! God damn it!" Selenity cursed, raising her voice slightly as she shoved him backwards, listening to him fall against his bed.
"You don't know anything. You don't know me. You don't know what I've done. You don't know what I do. How can you claim to love me?" he laughed bitterly, as he felt the girl's eyes trying to dig an answer from him. "I deserve every minute of it, Selenity. I need it. Do you understand? There is no good in me, there is no salvation for me. My only salvation is through him because he knows me. He knows how horrible I am. He knows everything about me and still loves me. You don't... know...anything."
Silence again. He felt the mattress sink as she sat down beside him.
"You didn't answer my question, Endymion. Does he hit you? Does he beat you? Does he starve you?"
He flinched away from her again, trying to put as much space between them as possible. Hugging himself tightly, he couldn't answer. He couldn't think. He didn't understand.
"Does he, Endymion?"
"Stop asking that," he whispered, crying, a little boy again. "Stop asking things I can't answer, Selenity. God. Please stop. Please..."
More silence, as Selenity listened to the tears he now began to cry. She wanted to reach for him, comfort him, but he didn't want her comfort now. It was a long time before either spoke.
"Would it please if I said no, Selenity? If I told you everything you seem to know, everything you felt...if I told you that blood on your hands...If I said it wasn't true, would you believe me and leave this alone?"
"You know the answer."
"Then..." there was another long pause, and she felt his weight shift back towards her, to face her. "Then...yes. My...my...father...does everything you said. He...beats me. He...cuts me. He starves me. Locks me in closets or just in this room for days on end. He does it all, Selenity. Does it please you to know that?"
"No."
"Then why are you making me admit this? You, you, my love, the one who found my hope, my soul. Do you enjoy making my world abandon all logic and reason? Do you enjoy my tears, knowing how panicked I'm feeling at this moment?"
"No," she whispered again, crying. "I don't know why. I needed to hear it from you. I needed...to hear it...from...you. If you didn't say exactly what he did, I know you too well, Endymion. You would lie. Pass it off as nothing. I can't let you do that."
"What do you want from me? I told you. You don't love me. You don't know me."
"Then tell me what you've done! I can't imagine anything worse than this!"
I killed my mother, he thought, not answering. The silence dragged out yet again, but before either could break it, the door opened, creaking, sending shudders through Endymion's body. Oh Gods no.
A match, a light, a single candle set upon his bedside table. Wordless movements, the boy closed his eyes, blocking the terrifying scene before him. His father. His bedroom. His girlfriend.
"My, my, Endymion. Such a bad boy," he could feel his father's presence hovering over his body still lying on the bed next to Selenity. She too, seemed to scared to move. Hot breath exhaled against his cheek as he felt his father lean in closer to whisper in his ear. He bit his lip, trying not to cry in blind fear. "What did we decide about boys like you?"
He felt the bed move as Selenity scrambled up, backing away. Running. Opening his eyes, he tried to flinch back from the monstrous visage leaning over him, trapping him, waiting for an answer.
"Please father," he managed. "Don't do this. Not in front of her."
Selenity flinched, backing up against Endymion's closet as she heard the sound of a slap, before the father continued to whisper loudly, insistently, into the boy's ear.
"Does she know, Endymion? She doesn't understand, does she. She doesn't know that this is what happens to bad boys like you, does she," Endymion struggled under his intense gaze. Oh Gods, this isn't happening. "Look at me, not her! Answer!"
Another slap.
"She...doesn't understand, father." Smirking at the answer, the older man straightened.
"I told you, Endymion. No one will ever understand you...love you, the way I do. Now tell me, what is it that happens to boys such as you?" his father paused. "Sit up, boy. Look at me when I'm talking to you."
He forced himself to obey, sitting up, staring at his father's terrifying face.
"Not in front of her. Don't make me, father. Please let her go."
"Answer," his father repeated. "Tell me exactly what should happen to boys like you."
"I can't..." he whimpered.
"God damn it, Endymion! You will answer me!" his father was screaming now.
I've lost, he thought, feeling his father's strong hands grab his weakened body and throw it to the ground. Thud. Thud. Crack. Pain. Pain. Rip. Blood.
"What happens to bad boys like you, Endymion?"
"They...deserve...to suffer," Endymion struggled with the words, begging Selenity to forgive him. Begging her to run. Begging her to do anything but stay.
"NO!" a furious scream ripped from Selenity's heart, and somewhere above him, Endymion could feel the soft ruffles of the skirt of her snow white dress. "It's not true! How can you do this to someone you love?"
"Get out of my way, bitch."
The ruffles flew across Endymion's face, and there was a cry of pain.
"Endymion, my arm! Stop it!"
Snap.
Sickened, he tried to roll over, but his father was back. Pain, blood, tears, he couldn't comprehend anymore. It was over. He'd lost everything.
Black.
- - -
"Endymion, wake up. Please wake up," a dim, sweet voice brought him back to hell. "Don't leave me alone like this, please!"
"What time is it?" he muttered, opening his eyes.
"Almost eight in the morning. Thank gods, I thought you were dead!"
"Your arm."
"Broken."
"Jadeite will be here soon. He'll help you set that until you get home. Mercury will be able to heal it, I suppose."
"I don't care about my arm. Stop worrying about me and start looking at yourself! Are you okay?"
He sat up, and smiled.
"I'm fine. ... Here, it's late. I can't wait for Jadeite today. Help me, will you?"
"What are you doing?" she stared at him as he stood, still half-smiling, though the bright look was marred by the clear pain in his eyes.
"I'm getting myself dressed, what do you think? I have to go downstairs and apologize. It was my fault. I'm sorry, Selenity. You shouldn't have been involved," he smiled again, still wincing, still limping around his room. Hurriedly he pulled on a fresh shirt, running his hands through his hair.
"You're...you're going back to him? After what he did to you?"
"He loves me," Endymion said, but she could see he was struggling to believe it himself.
"Please don't go downstairs. Don't go back to him. Don't leave me."
"Tears don't suit you, Princess," he smiled again. "I have to go back."
"Endymion, I'm begging you. Please. Don't."
"Selenity. I have to."
Utter despair. To live in hell by one's own choice. There are no more words. There is no end.
Afterthoughts:
I have mixed feelings. In one version of this story, Endymion killed his father. In another, Endymion and Selenity both die. This version is most faithful to the images I saw in my nightmare. On the other hand, the story itself is unfaithful to that dream.
I apologize if I left you hanging. But you must realize I cannot finish something that I myself don't know how to end in real life. *laughs* But then again, how would you have ended this story? "And they all lived happily ever after."
Right. I've never been one to believe in happy endings and somehow it doesn't fit here. Life is hardly a fairy tale, and such a story as the one I've written doesn't deserve happiness.
Once again, I'm sorry if you disliked my ending. I believe it was the best choice for my writing capabilities.
PsSerenity@hotmail.com
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