Warmth Chapter III: Somewhere Else By Secret Yaoi Lover (AKA: Aubrey)
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Knights-- but I do secure rights to this fanfiction.
((Covers mouth.)) Oops! I said a bad word in this chapter! By official rating codes, this is officially an "M" rated fiction now-- and only for saying the "F" word once. As if you people care. I know y'all are 13 year old kids trying to sneak a peek at some shounen-ai fanfiction. I did that too when I was your age...
It was bread.
Just bread. It required no adjectives or flowery descriptions and maybe it was better that way. The bread at the fortress was much more than simple bread. Words such as cold, hard, small, old, and even salty. Not lacking in nutrients though. His captors were sure to keep him as close to half-alive as possible. Or was it half-dead?
He'd have to say though, bread was much more pleasant when it was uncomplicated.
He wasn't hungry however, and couldn't really taste it. Chances are that he wouldn't have even tasted it if his new waiter hadn't encouraged him so-- and was still watching him eat it.
Me and this bread must be fascinating.
Gil sighed inwardly and tried not to make eye contact. Maybe if he ate slowly then he wouldn't have to eat the soup either. Or get into bed. Or take the pain medication.
And then what, fall asleep just to wake up and start it all over again? Just a long list of petty annoyances. At least it beat the fortress. Did it? His memories of the place were already getting foggy. Damn short term memory loss-- or suppression.
"Gil."
His name again. An obedient side-glance followed.
"If you don't have to eat it if you don't want too. It's just that I thought after all this time you might be hungry, but if your not..."
Gil set the bread down on the floor and pulled the comforter around him. Good riddance.
"I see. I--" the man floundered for a bit before standing, "I guess your mind's made up then. I'll leave the soup here, in case you get hungry later. If you want anything just ask-- or notify me in some way and I'll get it for you. Yeah..."
Gil was tired again. No-- not tired just... bored. Still, boredom could be cured by sleep he supposed. "I guess I'll go now. I'll be in the kitchen, try to get some more rest, okay?" He stood in the doorway, patiently expectant for some anonymous thing, and then turned, leaving the room.
"Wait."
The man-- the boy-- stopped instantly, whirling back around. "Yes?" he said with a smile.
Gil began to regret getting his attention. He was being watched with such anticipation, as that last uttered word was dripping with unbearable suspense. Gil glanced down at the edge of the blanket, trying not to fidget.
"Name." How incomplete of a sentence was that? Gil strained his memory, knowing it took more than that to form a simple question. His listener leaned forward into the room, "Excuse me?"
Gil pursed his lips. "Name," he spoke more clearly, but not much louder, "You. Your name."
"My... Ah!" He smiled as recognition flushed across his face, "My name is Raamgarnus. Raam-gar-nus. I'm sorry, I should have cleared that up earlier."
It's no great tribulation. Gil shrugged and curled away. Asking was too much work for such little trivia. Just a name to keep in mind. He would probably need to remember it eventually.
"All right," said Raamgarnus, looking much more optimistic then before, "I'll be in the other room. Like I said, call me if you need me."
I won't be. Gil closed his eyes, and laid against the wall. He liked corners. It was almost a comforting area, if he had one. The middle of the room was just so... exposed.
"Raam-- Raamu--" He tested, "Raamga--" He scowled and gave up the experiment, justifying himself by labeling the name too long and involved.
The room was not getting any less uncomfortable. He tried to sleep.
I love you.
That's what he said. That's what he told him once-- twice-- on multiple occasions.
Do you love me?
Gil found himself looking at the crumpled sheets around his arms. He was fidgeting again.
"I-- I don't know..."
The "lover" smiled, or close too it, pulling him closer against his naked body. "You should. I'm the only one who will, and you better take up that chance."
"Shyde--"
"Get cleaned up. Go back to your chambers and think about it."
It was all a game. Just a bloody game.
He did. Through the beatings and blood, he had something to hope for. To look forward to. The day seemed so long, his impatience growing with his endurance. All for this alien thing; love. Did Shydeman love him? Could he love him back? Would he be able to take refuge in this... love?
"Wake up, Gil." Instant obedience followed Shydeman's command. He was in Shydeman's room again, the transfer taking place during his exhausted unconsciousness. "Come here."
"Shydeman..." Gil looked up at him, struggling to his feet and stepping towards him. He had planned what he wanted to say, weighing every word with care, knowing the risky waters he could be stepping into. But how bad could it be? The thought was so comforting, so... genuine.
"I-- I love you." Gil spoke softly. He was nervous, but happy. Love seemed more than he could have hoped for, more than he deserved. Gil was looking down again, and glanced up to glimpse Shydeman's reaction.
He was smiling. Relief was the initial reaction before he realized he was smiling with... amusement? Why would he be amused? Why would he be smirking?
"I'm glad to hear that," he replied, snaking his long fingers behind his head. Gil stiffened. He was unsure now, but with a little hope, a little patience...
Shydeman gripped his hair and threw him onto the bed, swiftly following. "Bloody animal. You can love me as much as you want." Gil cried out, his head stretching back against the Shydeman's grip near his scalp, "Shyde--"
Shydeman pushed two fingers into Gil's mouth, pressing down on his tongue. "It's the best you'll ever get, so try to enjoy it." His eyes were still dark and lidded, all enjoyment hidden beneath his blank apathetic face. "Are you listening? I love you, my cat."
He was trapped, exposed to Shydeman's will. Gil fought the urge to bite down on his fingers, fearful of any future harm either to his body or psyche. His captor released Gil's hair to explore the scars on his arm. He leaned down to his in his ear. "Say it back to me. I love you." He pulled his fingers from his mouth, a thread of saliva following. He drew a thick wet line across his jawline. "Say it."
"I--" Gil strained, his words twisting in his throat, "I love you."
"That's right. Say it again."
"I love you."
He lost himself in the pain. The lower class youkai handled the physical destruction. Shydeman-- the psychological. He had passed the point of becoming animal like, and was becoming more of a doll.
I love you, Gil. Say it back to me. I love you.
He woke in a cold sweat, his hands gripping into his pillow. He sat up, the dark moonlight glinting on his eyes, and combed his hands halfway through his hair. Suppressing memories worked fine until he fell asleep.
Gil was back in the bed again. He slipped out and stood, wavering a bit and wincing at a the feeling of sharp pains in the soles of his feet. Raamgarnus must have forgotten the pain medicine.
Raamgarnus.
He pulled the fresh shirt off of himself again, and took a shaky step towards the back wall. His muscles weren't as heavy anymore and walking wasn't as fatiguing. He put his back against the smooth surface and slid down to the floor, glancing back at the bed.
He's being so hospitable.
Gil shivered. Maybe he should have taken the comforter again.
Is it another game?
He felt the cold touch of Shydeman fingering the underside of his chin. Gil recoiled from the invisible seduction, pressing further up against the wall.
Raamgarnas is playing with me. Just like him. Just like Shydeman.
Gil was shaking-- and not because of the cold. He hadn't escaped from the cruelty. It was still there, hiding beneath a seemingly benign mask of love.
Love. God, what a sickening word.
He stood, and stepped confidently to the bed, pulling off the heaviest blanket and folding it around his shoulders. The only one who could save him was no one. He had to leave. It didn't matter where, just... elsewhere.
He slunk towards the door, crouched low. He hadn't explored the rest of the house. It was like stepping out onto an unknown frontier, and it looked even more unfriendly in the dark. Intimidated but not discouraged, Gil crept out of the room and found the entrance-- exit.
The door creaked when he opened it, and not waiting for a response of his captor, he dashed outside without a second thought, only to stumble and fall into the cruel, biting snow. Snow. He had no idea. How could he have been sitting in that room for so long, and not even have known the weather? He grew doubly frustrated at the irritating chill and isolation of his existence, and tore headlong into the woods, his cover feeling thinner by the moment.
It didn't matter where he went. Just somewhere else.
He ran for what seemed as hours, days, years. Yet, he knew that none of those measurements were correct, and only the hostile environment seemed to slow down time. He stopped for a few to look around and gather his bearings. Night vision showed him trees. Trees, trees, and more trees in every possible direction, and then a line of widely spaced footprints pointing away from his destination.
What destination?
Somewhere else. He answered himself. It was the only destination he had. As long as he was moving he would find it, and as long as he stopped he wouldn't.
He was sweating, and though his heart beat rapidly in his chest, he didn't feel any warmer than before. He curled up at the base of a tree, pulling his feet in towards him. They were bleeding. When did that happen?
I'm insane. He told himself. Completely insane. It wasn't surprising though. He had felt on the edge of insanity for all that he could remember of his life. Maybe he always was insane. The thought almost seemed reassuring. Insanity needed no reasons or justification. He was free to wander out aimlessly into somewhere else, bleeding a trail of bread crumbs, and huddling up in a stolen blanket.
Gil curled his fingers around his toes in an attempt to warm them. It didn't do much good, and he found himself moments later staring at the cold red paint that clung to his hands. Why was it so cold? Everyone else's blood was warm, but his was cold. I guess that made him unique-- special-- in the warm bodied environment of stony hearts.
He began to giggle, pressing the bloodied hand against his face. Insane. I'm going insane. I'm going insane and I'm fully aware of it. He was on his side now, watching the expanse of white pour out in front of him. The ground was so soft. Like the bed Shydeman always pulled him into. Cold and soft. Cold and soft. Cold and...
Darkness slipped into his vision for a second, and then faded away. He couldn't fall asleep now. Sleep was weakness. If he slept now he would never find Somewhere Else.
Somewhere Else was behind that tree. And then behind that one, and behind that one, and the one after that. But Somewhere Else didn't have a cold and soft bed. Only he could have the cold and soft bed where he could lay and think of only the simple things, like how funny the snow looked falling sideways, and the obnoxious darkness that was slipping into his vision again.
But he couldn't fall asleep, because then he would never find Somewhere Else.
It was like some sort of nightmare. This can't be happening. Raamgarnus thought, standing against the wind shin deep in snow and holding a flickering lamp. He shouted Gi's name at various intervals, trudging through the icy terrain, and fighting initial panic.
Why would he have left? Wouldn't both his human and animal instincts keep him at home? He just darted out into the wasteland without a trace of evidence answering the earth-shattering question: "Why?"
There were no tracks, only an ominous slice of white that spread out before him like the sky. Impossible to navigate, to trail, to survive. "Gil!" Raamgarnus cried out again, knowing it would be in vain, but still praying for a miracle.
No Raamu-- you're smarter than this, you can handle this. He reassured himself with despairing hope. I'll find him-- I have to find him-- If I don't he'll die-- he'll fucking die-- Raamgarnus covered his face with a trembling hand, as the disparity fell upon him. Don't panic, Raamgarnus, don't panic-- you're better than that you're--
Youkai.
The lamp went out, but the realization stayed. I'm youkai. I'm youkai-- as much as I hate it-- I'm youkai just like him. He dropped to his knees, calming himself, trying to get back in touch with his suppressed instincts. He tried to ignore the biting wind and soulless snow, and closed his eyes.
Inhale... He let himself used the enhanced senses he was born with. One breath... two... a third...
Blood.
There was no doubt about it. Subtle, but traceable. Raamgarnus pulled himself to his feet, his new confidence now overrun with intense worry.
Following a the invisible bleeding trail, he found him. His body anyway.
The fire did about as much as the blankets. Raamgarnus had verified a heartbeat and shallow breathing, but that wouldn't last as long as Gil suffered from his hypothermic illness. He bound Gi's bleeding feet and soaked them in warm water, and after giving the rest of his body similar treatment, wrapped several blankets around him. Please Gil, please. He wound another layer around him, aware that it wasn't going to do much, but at this point anything was worth trying.
Raamgarnus stood, walking towards the fireplace, then the kitchen, then back to Gil. Nervous pacing did little for him as he would try to boil some water or prepare some food, only to be sitting next to Gil's small frame curled up on the sofa.
"Please Gil, please-- God please let him-- Wake up Gil, just for a little bit..." Raamgarnus touched his face, marked with erratic lines, then pushed the hair back away from his right eye. A scar ran deeply from the middle of his forehead down to the top of his cheek-- an eye that would never see daylight. "What have they done to you?" he asked in hushed tones, hoping he would never know the details of the answer.
Raamgarnus clutched Gil's shoulder's and shook him, "Gil, you've got to wake up-- please! I've tried everything-- stay alive-- say something!" An uneventful silence followed as Raamgarnus stared into the solemn face of his cold sleeper. "You're going to die in your sleep-- don't you get it? It may seem like a great idea to you, but-- Gil, I promised I'd save you."
There was no response. That wasn't unexpected.
Raamgarnus unwound him from his cocoon, and folded Gil into his arms, re-wrapping the cover around the both of them. Raamgarnus rested his cheek against the other boy's, Gil's chest rising weakly against Raamgarnus's. He pulled him closer. I promised I'd save you, Gil. I promised. So please wake up... The only thing he could do was clutch the fragile body and wait... and pray.
Time neither crawled or flew. It just counted down each second equally and painfully, drop by drop, until the victim stirred.
Gil sigh-sobbed, rubbing up against Raamgarnus, and stretching out his fingers to grasp at his shirt. "Please," he said in a low whisper, "Please, please..."
"Gil, Gil wake up. Gil." Raamgarnus spoke into his ear, and loosened his hold, but couldn't bear to release him. Not like this. Not now. "Gil--"
His gold eye flicked open, taking in his surroundings in one disoriented moment. He pushed away from Raamgarnus, stumbling and sprawling onto the floor. "Let go! Let go! Let--" He hesitated, realizing that was already accomplished, and pulled himself onto all fours, retreating back towards the door.
"Gil, it's all right, it's me!" Raamgarnus said, standing to his feet and holding his arms open. Gil shrank away, hiding his face with his forearms. "I'm not going to hurt you," Raamgarnus dropped to his knees, trying to somehow appeal to this open wound. "Just listen--"
"Do not-- do not--" (beat me, hurt me)
"Do not-- do not--" (touch me, look at me)
Gil floundered for a word to fill in the blank as he endlessly pleaded for him to "do not". "I'm not going to do anything! Gil calm down-- look at me!"
The tormented soul clamped his eyes shut, breathing hard against the adrenaline. "Liar, liar. Somewhere else-- that's all-- somewhere else."
"Where? What are you talking about?"
Gil grasped the doorknob above him with a shaking hand, twisting it open and bracing himself for the cold blast that followed. Raamgarnus shot to his feet, only able to call Gil's name before he had disappeared through the door again.
Gil only made it about seven feet before he fell, his legs refusing to take him any farther into the icy snow. He hadn't had this much energy in a long time. Escape had always been to distant in the mind's realm. Now with full grasp of it, his body couldn't even take him there.
The yellow glow from the inside of the house crept only up to his feet, the Raamgarnus's shadow filling in right below. "What good does any of this do?" Raamgarnus asked, his voice filling the still air, "Where are you going? Where can you go?"
"Away. Somewhere Else," Gil, whispered, staring into the shin deep snow, "Somewhere safe. Somewhere away. Somewhere... Else."
"But you already have." Raamgarnus said in a lower tone, "This is Somewhere Else. This is Away. You don't have to run anymore, you've already escaped. It's safe here, no one's going to hurt you."
"Liar!" Gil shrieked, turning towards him maliciously, "You lie, you always have! I hate you, Shydeman, I hate you! It's Somewhere Else-- I hate you, Shydeman. I love you, I love you, I love you. Dammit-- to away-- else, somewhere, you liar..." Gil pulled his arms over his head, clutching at his hair. He knew he wasn't making any sense. God, everything hurt, everything spun, everything was against him.
He cringed at a hand on his shoulder, but made no effort to pull away. "Gil, I can't force you to do anything," an earnest voice to the right of him said, "But I'm right here, and I'm going to keep you safe if you'll let me." Raamgarnus pulled Gil towards him, cradling his frame, "Don't cry please."
I don't cry.
"I hate you." Gil hissed at him, though his fingers were clinging to his lapel.
"I don't care, I'm going to take care of you." Raamgarnus lifted him from the snow's frozen grasp, and took broad strides to the house, staring pointedly ahead.
"Liar." Gil sobbed, closing his good eye and resting his head against Raamgarnus's shoulder. Those couldn't be tears he felt sliding down his face. That was impossible.
"Liar..."
Like, WTF? This chapter was super weird. It started out pretty good, and then it just got-- odd. It sounded good when it was still in my head! Argh! I think my inner novice is tired of being suppressed. I hope you guys like this chapter better than I do. 'Cause if you don't... well, let the flames run rampant. It'll be good for me.