Warnings: Violence and mention of such. 

Note: Thanks for r&r! And yes, the third chapter's title is a Placebo song. Placebo is currently one of my favourites and this song is my personal favourite.

5 Game

When Ralph woke again, the shelter was empty and the heat of day was cooling off into the sweet and abundant warmth of evening. He felt like floating, somewhere in a cloud of sleep and security and relaxation...

His feet stumbled into the hot sand and a soothing wind caught his sweaty, bloody, burning body.

This can't be true.

This can't be true.

Because this had been a game!

A game...

Games weren't real.

Games were fun. You screamed and ran for your life – but it was only fun, and it was over when the game was over.

It had all been a game.

A great, great game.

A war game.

A catch me if you can game.

But a game had rules.

And blood was not part of the rules.

This can't be true.

This can't be true.

There must be ... yes... there is a rescue.. of course... a rescue... because this can't be true.. this can't be real...

With a choked whimper Ralph broke out of his dream. This is not real... he remembered saying, screaming, whispering these words over and over. They were his mantra, his prayer.

Today he had nearly forgotten them. When a dream was so pleasant, you didn't want to wake up. He looked around. The shadowy hut was empty.

"Jack...," he whispered and curled into a tight ball.

Jack laughed and waved them off. It was always refreshing to run with the pack, to hunt and celebrate their victory over the prey. But he also felt a certain remoteness, even here.

The other hunters could laugh and joke together, but nobody would really laugh with him. Because they respected him.

They didn't even like him. They respected him and that as all he'd ever wanted and yet not enough.

His conversation with Ralph had made this painfully clear to him : There was no one he could really talk to. He stood above them and it was very lonely at this place.

But he could talk to Ralph. Did that mean Ralph didn't respect him?

He entered the hut and a shockingly familiar scene greeted him. Ralph, curled up into a ball on his skins. For a moment he felt his heart fall. What if Ralph had lost his sanity again and had fallen into the hollow cavern of madness once more?

"I'm home," he said a bit shaky.

No response.

He bit on his lip and sat down by the fire. So what? The madman was once again mad. Nothing new there. Could he really expect him to just be healed?

With practised moves he lit the fire, began to roast the meat, stubbornly concentrating on actions that didn't really need his attention. The smoke burned in his eyes and he coughed.

When the meat was more or less cooked, he looked over at the unresponsive boy.

"Food's ready."

He waited. Nothing happened.

"Get up. I.. I got you some meat."

This was it. Their usual conversation. He frowned angrily and went over to Ralph. The boy tried to scurry away, still in his crouching position. He got a hold on his shoulder and yanked him up. An empty look out of reddened eyes met his gaze.

"Ralph!"

Jack frowned deeply. His patience reached his limits.

"Don't play that on me again! I know you're no nutcase! I have seen it! Ralph!" His grip became harder.

"Look at me!" He slapped him square across the face. The only reaction a choked animal whimper.

Frustration pooled inside him. He grabbed a fistful of the fair hair and began force the meat into Ralph's slack mouth. The boy didn't swallow, grease dripped down his chin, mixing with blood from were his lip had been torn by the blow.

He choked.

"Eat it!" Jack cried. He started shaking him violently.

"I brought you meat! I bring you meat every day! I make sure you don't die!"

"Eat it!"

"Do as I say! Do as I.."

"Jack.."

"I am your Chief! I own you!"

"Jack..!"

"I.."

He startled.

Ralph was crying, and weakly sobbing his name. He let him go, horrified. The whole cruel mix of emotion crashed down on him.

He had wanted to protect him.

He had hurt him.

Jack felt the shivering body tumble against his chest. His arms hung useless by his sides while Ralph didn't stop wailing.

Jack had never learned to comfort.

After seemingly endless minutes the sobbing stopped. Ralph lay quiet against him.

"..a game.."

He tried to speak a bit louder.

"It was all a game. When we came here. As long as it was a game, it was all okay."

"Ralph?"

"I had never seen a dead body before, did you know that?"

"Neither had I."

"What could I do when the rules failed me? What could I do..."

A pale, scarred hand suddenly squeezed his arms, and he felt Ralph breathing hard.

"What could I do, Jack?"

Jack had no answer.

The had slowly let go of him. Softly Ralph raised his head.

Over his tear streaked features spread a smile.

"If this is reality, then reality is a pretty cruel thing, isn't it?"