Son of Sin: Chapter 2

Summary:
AU: Son of Sin is a popular band with an abusive lead singer. Can her love cure him? Or will she become his next victim? TidusxYuna, AuronxRikku. Rated R for violence, language, and (consentual) sex.

Warning and Disclaimer:
See Chapter 1.

Author's notes:
Just like last time, italics are thoughts, lyrics, or flashbacks to things that have been said (or written!) in the past. Tidus' voice when he's pissed off is supposed to be read as if it's Shuyin's voice. And yes, there is a reason he's so OOC. A very real reason that isn't explored in-game, so I'm exploring it in this fic. That's the last time I'm going to forewarn of this, so be prepared. This story is violent.


"All I know is, this isn't a dream. This is all too real."

For once, everything seemed perfect. It really was a beautiful night. The crickets were alive with song just outside the front window of their one-bedroom. The air was perfectly still outside, and as she rested her head on her folded arms, letting her face soak in the moonlight, she felt like a princess. Her Prince Charming was just behind her, sitting quietly in a recliner with a book in his hands, the sterio on but with the volume turned way down. Soft jazz fluttered through the apartment. She'd cooked dinner, and he actually complimented her on the fish fillets she'd pan-fried. He was happy and excitable and he'd picked her up in the kitchen when she added a handful of angelhair pasta to the boiling water, twirling her around. And his voice... that was the voice of the person she'd met so long ago. The person she'd wanted to be near always.

They'd met one year ago, at a sort of Battle of the Bands in Luca. He lived there, of course, playing guitar and singing with a terrible group of Macalania musicians. Horn, harp, and drum, that's all those people ever played. It got boring. Everyone was so tired of them. Of course, Rikku played the drums as well, but she hoped she did a better job than banging with oven mitt-covered hands on a single snare tied to her chest. She traveled all the way from Sanubia to enter the contest with her own group of Al Bhed performers, none of whom were all that good either.

He saw her, surprisingly enough. Though she'd heard of him on the radio (constantly, in fact, while she'd been driving to the competition - Tidus Shuyi was overplayed on so many stations it was ridiculous), she had never seen him in person. The fact that he'd be attending a paltry band competition like this one had simply amazed her. But there he was, standing next to a blitzball fanatic and electric bass player named Wakka, checking her out while she tapped a random beat on a metal pole with her sticks between sets. She hadn't even noticed him at first.

"Hey," he'd called, walking up behind her. "Mind if I flirt with you until you walk away?" It was probably the smoothest, most honest pick-up line the girl had ever heard.

She turned around to say yes then gasped, her brain refusing to connect to her lips as she babbled. "Ohmygod! Do you know who you are? Brother has a CD, you'reyou're you!" Right, Rikku, real smart. The most gorgeous, famous guy you've ever met just asked to flirt with you, and you asked him if he knew who he was!

He laughed, letting the notes of his voice carry free into the wind. But when he finished having fun at her expense, he bent forward, a winning smile shining on his face. "Hello there. What's your name?" he asked, his voice a murmur, as low as a cat's purr.

And, like a good fangirl, she'd clasped her hands, eyelids demurely flicking down, half-closed over the black swirls of her pupils. Her cheeks were so red. "Rikku."

And, like a silly puppy, he'd grabbed both of her hands and started to shake them, his face blossoming into a huge grin. "Whoa! You really do understand!" When she'd punched his shoulder for the comment, he'd rubbed it and smirked as if in approval. "Sorry. I just had to know whether Al Bhed chicks understood the concept of flirting. Clearly, they already understand the concept of..." He paused as dramatically as he could manage, giving her body a very obvious once-over. "...of beauty," the boy finished. When Rikku had just rolled her eyes at him and walked away, he'd given chase. They passed the day hanging out with Wakka, talking about music and blitzball and the silly trivialities of life that young people find so important. It had been a perfect day, that wound into a perfect evening. After doing their sets and losing to a group of death-metal performers who played a roaring song called "Otherworld," Tidus had suggested they all form up, leaving their less talented bandmates behind. And Rikku, well, how could she say no? There were other drummers out there. Probably better ones. And who wouldn't kill to have a spot in a new band started up by Tidus Shuyi himself?

And this evening, she remembered why she'd agreed to it. Why she'd agreed to join his band and stay in Luca. Why she'd agreed to share his bed until she could get one of her own. Why she'd never left his bed.

He could be so wonderful. So achingly beautiful in whatever he did. And now, watching him reading with his right ankle balanced on his left knee, reading glasses resting on the bridge of his nose (no one knew he wore them but her), black shirt open to reveal the cut of his chest and the shine of his silver Zanarkand Abes pendant. Now, with his bleached locks falling in front of his face, caught in the long dark lashes that made fangirls swoon. Now, with his ocean-blue eyes glowing from the day's work. Now... she wanted him.

"The pain. The smell. The taste in your mouth."

Rikku closed the window, reached up to tug on the string that let the miniblinds fall to the sill she'd been resting on. The doors were locked. No one was calling. No one was expected. "Tidus," she cooed, walking over and sitting on the couch next to his recliner. "You had a good day, hm?"

"Yeah," he replied simply, turning a page. When she looked to see what he was reading, she couldn't help but smile. Salinger again. Why he loved Catcher in the Rye so much, Rikku would never know. She'd tried reading it once, but it didn't seem to have any bearing on her life. And Tidus, he read it at least once a month. He spent more time reading it than he spent watching blitzball.

"Whatcha think of Yunie?" she queried, in an attempt to draw him away from the book and into her eyes. After all, it may have been Yuna who'd pulled him out of his habitual funk. Her appearance had been the only change Rikku could think of in the day. And she was, after all, an amazing singer. After she'd been officially welcomed to the band, and had signed the appropriate documents with Mr. Auron, practice was a dream. They'd worked on "Of Empires and Fools" a few more times so that Tidus and Yuna could sync their voices and rhythms, and Tidus even managed to sink into the low harmony of the song. Then they'd moved onto a few newer songs, like "Girl in the Tower," "White Witch Praised," and "Dear Diary." When Yuna asked what the lattermost song meant, and was told it was written about masturbation... boy, was her face red! Rikku giggled to think of it. Even Lulu's face had cracked into an uncharacteristic grin.

"She's good," Tidus finally replied, licking his finger before turning the next page. "Better than I thought she'd be, for an opera singer. Remind me tomorrow to pick up a keyboard from the sound station on the way to the warehouse. Let's see if she can play rock as well as sing it." His head tilted back then, and he slipped the glasses off to stick the tip in his mouth, tapping the plastic on his lower teeth. "Shit, I should probably see if I can do an arrangement on a few things tonight. I doubt she can improv. Time is it, Rikku?"

She turned to the stereo and scanned the glowing blue digits. "Just a little after eight. You have time to do... other things." She trailed her index finger over the bridge of his nose and tapped his lips, as if to encourage a smile on his face to match her own. "Like spend some, ahh, quality time with me?"

"It's real, and there's no way to go but forward."

Tidus rolled his eyes and set the well-worn book on the coffee table before them. "Not now that I realize I have work to do. You have a dildo. If you're horny, use it." He stood, slipping the folded glasses into a pocket and crossing over to his work station. The metal chunk of a file cabinet opening was the only sound she heard out of him, and as he riffled through a few folders for a stack of staff paper and his other arrangements, the ones his bandmates didn't need anymore, Rikku started to get angry.

"Look," she said, standing up and walking over to him, "I said I wanted to spend some time with you. I'm not that horny, I just want to be with you. Is that really so much to ask?"

Tidus sighed, a hard sound, and slammed the file cabinet shut. "At the moment, yes. I don't interrupt you when you're tinkering with machines, so it'd be nice if you wouldn't interrupt me when I'm working. And try to keep in mind what I'm working on, hm? Arrangements for Yuna? Your beloved cousin? Try to keep your pants on for a few hours, and maybe I'll oblige you. But not now." His voice was flat again. Toneless. Unexcited and almost completely apathetic in every way. The voice of the person inside of him who she didn't love, couldn't love. The person she'd grown to hate.

"You know what you have to do."

"Jeez, Tidus, it's not always about sex, you know? It's about... love. You know, don't you? You remember how happy we were, just lying together sometimes? Just cuddling after? I swear to bob, for the last like half a year you haven't even touched me with anything like love. It's just been fucking, for gods' sake, I don't think you've even kissed me once"

"You have to..."

"That's enough!" he yelled, his eyes dangerously narrow, his lips suddenly thin and cruel. Just to silence her, he stood and grabbed her wrist, yanking it so that she was forced to slam into him, chest to chest. "You want me to touch you, I'll fuckin' touch you."

"You have to..."

"Ty..." she squeaked out, backing up a step, or trying. She was winded from crashing into him, but she had to... he was looking at her like that again... gods, not again, he was going to... she couldn't stop him... "Don't look at me like that. I'll leave you alone. Go ahead, work on the arrangements. I'm sorry I interrupted you, I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry..."

Her whining was just making it worse. She was pleading, she was scared, but she still wasn't shutting up. She was still talking, talking, shitting at the mouth, and it was going to drive him mad. So quite simply, he grabbed her by the throat, and threw her. And though he hadn't meant to throw her anywhere in particular, just away from him, she ended up getting slammed against his desk, right into the line of the wood. There was a thunk and a crack, and Rikku slid to the floor.

"You have to kill..."

She laid there for a while, still and silent and crumpled. He could tell she was alive, of course. The faint rise and fall of her breath. The tiny twitch in her neck of an artery pumping blood. Blood that ran down the back of her neck, seeping a little from a cut in her scalp. But of course, head cuts always bleed the worst. She was just playing dead. It kept her quiet.

And in his mind, a small voice screamed, Stay down, bh. Just stay down. Stay down. Play dead. Don't get up. Don't move. Nothing will happen to you if you just don't move. Stay down. Play dead. If he thinks your'e dead... he'll go away. Won't he? Tidus turned and sat down in his chair, the normal squeak of its movement as it bore his weight a comfort. His heartbeat began to slow, and as calmly as he could, he slipped his reading glasses on, picked up the staff paper to begin an arrangement.

There was a rustling behind him, and he thought nothing of it. He was lost by then. Lost in melody and harmony, rhythm and the soft clack of fingers on wood, pretending that his desk was a keyboard so that he could imagine her notes in his mind, piece them together with the rest of the music. And when the bedroom door opened, he thought nothing of it, changing an A-flat to a B-minor, dusting away bits of the eraser he'd used to correct himself. And the only thing that changed his mind about ignoring his girlfriend completely

Was the slamming of the front door. He looked up, jarred from his work, and blinked. Set his pencil down. When he stood up, his eye caught the thin pool of blood that had seeped into the carpet.

Tidus blinked. And blinked. And wiped away the wetness on his face, but it wouldn't stop coming. Even when he ran into the bathroom and locked the door behind him, crawling into the tub with all his clothes on, hiding from the bloodstain, it wouldn't stop coming. It only stopped when he slammed his head back into the tile, hard enough to daze him, hard enough to minorly compensate for the damage he'd done to her. It stopped the flow of saltwater pouring down his face. It nearly sent him to sleep.