Disclaimer: I don't own anything Golden Sun related.
Warning: If you are not comfortable with mentions of Menardi abusing Saturos and/or implied boy x boy action, then you may not like this fic. You have been warned…
Story told from Saturos's POV.
-o-
I hummed quietly to myself as I opened cupboard doors, searching for something to eat. We—Myself, Menardi, Alex, Felix, Kraden, and Jenna—had been lucky enough to find a vacant house for rent in Imil, and my luck seemed to have doubled when we had drawn lots for room partners, as I had not ended up with Menardi. Poor Kraden got that punishment.
The sight of not seeing my own blood on the floor night after night, of being able to breathe without worry of Menardi pouncing on my throat like a tigress on it's prey. Instead, I was greeted with Alex's peaceful sleeping silhouette, with his marble face, carved by angels, his pale blue locks fanned out across the pillows…oh, it was a few days of pure heaven. This was pretty damn close to my utopia.
Of course, I knew my luck wouldn't last for long. It never did. As my sleeves fell back, I could see scars on my arms, from the harsh blade of her dagger. My humming ceased. No, I reminded myself. You can't blame all those scars on Menardi.
I cursed my inner voice. As much as I wanted to blame all my pain on Menardi, that feat would be impossible. No. Most of the scars were actually self inflicted. Yes, I, the "mighty" Saturos, had been reduced to cutting (1).
Physical pain was becoming more tolerable; in fact, even if Menardi didn't cut and/or whip me, after her loud rants about how worthless I was, I felt like slashing up my entire body. When I lost myself in the realm of physical pain, I didn't have to remember her insults, her taunts, her constant reminders about how worthless I was to the world…
A fresh cut appeared on my arm, longer and deeper than the others. I held the knife in my left hand, staring down at my right. I didn't remember how the knife got in my hand or how the slash got on my arm. All I knew was that I was loosing control.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, you stupid bastard?"
I winced. Not her, not now… But Menardi's voice wasn't that deep…
A pale hand ripped the knife out of my own, throwing it aside. That same pale hand moved to my other arm.
"Ply! Ply, dammit!" Alex snapped, as if the psyenergy was going far too slow for his liking. When the cut had vanished, leaving no scar, Alex's blue eyes were staring at me, darkened and hardened to ice. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he repeated, demanding an explanation, his hand still gripping my arm.
I could feel my knees weakening, though whether from blood loss or nerves, I couldn't tell. Before I could stop myself, I fell forward full force onto Alex. His quick reflexes caught me before I pushed us both to the ground. I could feel my face heat up, but when I stole a look at his eyes, I saw that some of the ice melted. He looked genuinely concerned.
"Saturos…why?"
I briefly considered playing the fool, though I knew exactly the subject to which Alex was referring.
"Don't lie," he said, eyes narrowing, as if he could read my thoughts. "I studied healing for many years; I know the scars of self-inflicted wounds when I see them." He stayed silent for a moment then, realizing that I wasn't going to answer, he continued softly, but darkly, "It's her, isn't it? Her insults, her verbal abuse…"
I nodded as he helped me to the table, pulling out a chair and pointing to it. I obeyed and sat down.
"Would you like me to kill her while she sleeps?"
In spite of myself, I snorted into the glass of water he had just handed to me. I knew he was only half joking. Alex then took up my post of rummaging through cupboards, ignoring my inquiries of what he was doing.
I was only half paying attention to him as he dug out a pot, filled it with water, and placed it on the stove, turning the burner on. Alex's reaction had been extremely different than I had imagined. I had been taking great care in injuring myself while around him. The last thing I needed was the one light in my otherwise dark life turning to me one day and saying, "You're manipulating me", "Stop that, you're being childish", "This changes our whole relationship", "You're not who I thought you were". Or anything along those lines.
But he hadn't reacted that way at all. Admittedly, it was the first time I had ever seen him loose his cool, uncaring demeanor, but he hadn't completely disowned me. On the contrary, it seemed, as I could now smell chicken soup.
A bowl of ramen noodles in chicken broth was set before me. Alex sat down across the table, setting down his own bowl and a glass of water before sliding a pair of chopsticks to me. He broke his own, then commenced with eating, not saying a word through the entire process.
With a casual flick of the wrist, I extinguished the lanterns lighting the kitchen. Another flick and the candles at the end of the table were ablaze, creating a darker, more romantic atmosphere. With a satisfied smirk, I broke my own chopsticks and began eating.
After the last noodle was consumed and the last bowl pushed away, Alex leaned on the table, staring me down. His blue eyes were intense, smoldering, and I couldn't look away.
"I'm not going to lecture you," he said, as if reading my mind again. "Just…Saturos, be careful. And he rose with such force that the billowy sleeves of his shirt blew back in the air. I got a brief glance of a series of old scars marring his pale skin.
Alex left me with the comforting sensation caused only by chicken soup and the feeling that you are not alone in your times of trouble. Finding my smile for the first time in a long time, I rose and followed the healer to bed.
-o-
This statement made towards self injury does not necessarily reflect the author's views as well. This is Saturos talking, not Dark McCloud.
Author's Note: Seriously, I was inspired to write this by eating ramen late at night. Yes, I'm a sucker for Saturos/Alex moments. My inspiration is twisted, I know. Maybe not the best show of my writing abilities, but I definitely like it enough to publish it. Less dark than Chains of Blood. And I wrote something with a happy ending. That's a rarity… I don't really have much to question about the rating this time around. You can have cutting in a PG13 rated story, right? I don't see why not. However, as always, if you think the rating is inappropriate, you can always tell me in your review. Because you are all going to review, right? Thanks for reading, as always.