Part V (Fayt)

It took a great deal of self-control for Fayt to leave Albel's room. Well, I suppose it took enough self-control not to let him fuck me right there. If only he had an once of self-control, Fayt thought, smiling slightly. The blue-haired boy crawled back into his bed, falling asleep almost instantly. All his dreams were of Albel that night.

When he awoke the next morning, Sayd was in his room, changing his bandages. "They took Albel away," she informed him. Fayt nodded slowly. When he said nothing, the young nurse continued, "But you know him, he wouldn't go down without a fight. He was punching and kicking doctors all over the place. Screaming and threatening too. He said he wasn't going anywhere without you. Caused quite a scene." Sayd smiled. "He broke a few machines and left some people pretty beat up. Eventually they called in the police. He put up a fight against them too. Broke an arm. It took two officers and a pair of handcuffs to drag Albel out of here. He's one tough kid." Fayt couldn't help but feel proud to be his uke.

Fayt was sent home himself just a few hours after Albel. His father and Peter were furious, screaming about the Leingod family honor and throwing things. His mother had come home, and managed to yell as well. Fayt found himself sleeping to pass time.

Albel nearly always appeared in his dreams, in several forms. Sometimes he was as Fayt last saw him- chained to a hospital bed. A few times he showed up as his younger self. One time he came as an angel, covered in blood and armed with a gun, and rescued Fayt.

Days passed Fayt by. He had given up on everything. School was out, and he lived like a zombie, an empty shell awaiting death. He spoke to no one, wanting his last words to be with Albel. He got out of bed only to snatch small scraps of food, then lay back down. When Christmas Eve hit, Fayt might as well have already died. He didn't sleep that day. He lay with his back on his bed, still and silent, ready for death to come for him.

It came at 10 PM, in the form of Peter and his father wielding kitchen knives. "Ready?" Peter poked his brother, who made no move to fight back. Fayt was yanked off the bed. It's all over now. Peter struck first, punching him in the stomach. Fayt felt the pain, but didn't care. Getting no response, they let out a flurry of punches. Fayt waited patiently, unflinching.

"Ah, just bring out the knives," his father grumbled impatiently. There came another flurry of attacks, this time blades mixed with fists. This got a scream of pain out of Fayt as they slashed open the scars from last time.

"That's more like it," Peter remarked smugly.

Blood poured onto the floor, creating a red puddle around Fayt. I have to be strong like Albel. I'm his, so I should die honorably like he would want. A knife hit his arm, sinking in. Fayt let out a pained noise somewhere between a scream and a choking sound, as he was punched in the throat. He swung blindly back, his fist colliding with the knife, ripping apart the flesh on his knuckles. He was pushed to the ground, and kicked down a flight of stairs by one of the two. He felt his head bang against each stair as he fell, his left arm twisting behind him painfully. He was certain he was close to death, blood pouring from the knife wounds all over him. Fayt was fighting to stay awake, afraid of what would happen if he closed his eyes.

A knock at the door delayed further suffering. "We'll finish you," Peter assured, shoving Fayt in a closet at the foot of the stairs and sliding on a jacket to cover the blood on his shirt. As the door closed, Fayt could see nothing, only the darkness that filled the empty closet.

I only have a few minutes left…I'm going to die alone in here. Albel…I wish he could be here before I go. I just don't want to die alone… Fayt heardthe door unlock and open outside of his tiny prison.

"Hello," his father greeted outside, sounding overly pleasant. Fayt heard no response, only two loud bangs followed by two thuds. What just happened? He heard someone rummaging around, throwing stuff violently. Maybe I'll die in here and they won't get to finish me off… The thought gave him some comfort, that he would rob them of the satisfaction of killing him outright. He sat on the ground, moving slowly, pained. Fayt began to close his eyes, ready to give in and accept death right there. He could see only a blurred fragment of the world. Goodbye.

Fayt heard the closet door swing open violently. He didn't widen his eyes to see who it was, only braced himself for another attack. None came. Slowly, carefully, Fayt opened his eyes.

In front of him, like a blood-covered angel armed with a gun, stood Albel. Somehow, Fayt found the energy to lift his battered, blood soaked body and throw himself into Albel's arms. He came! I was on the verge of death and Albel pulled through! It's going to be ok now!

"You know I'd never leave you to die," Albel whispered.

Fayt smiled and answered softly as though he could barely breathe, "I won't doubt you ever again."

Albel kissed Fayt softly, sucking blood off his lips. Pulling away, he asked, "Your mom still around?"

"Upstairs." Albel disappeared up the stairs. There was a loud gunshot, and he returned. "Taken care of."

"Albel…" Fayt said his name weakly. "I'm hurt."

Albel's eyes traveled quickly over the boy, examining him. Fayt knew his left arm was bleeding heavily, and he had several gashes across his chest. He assumed he had also gained several bruises and lost a good amount of weight since Albel had last seen him. I must look awful… The other boy's reaction proved him right.

"Shit! You're really hurt! Oh shit, do you feel ok?" Not giving him time to answer, Albel continued, "No, that was a dumb question, you just nearly got beaten to death. We can't go back to the hospital….I'll do my best." Fayt nodded understandingly. He didn't care if Albel was able to save him or not. Only that if he died, he would die in Albel's arms.

The dark haired boy picked Fayt up and carried him to a black leather couch in the living room. "Do you keep medical supplies or something around here?"

"Yeah…upstairs, Peter's room, dresser." Fayt breathed out his few words and watched Albel walk off. He can do it….I won't doubt him. Not ever again…

Albel returned, kit full of bandages in his hand. Deftly, he undressed Fayt and pulled out a roll of bandages. Albel wrapped a thick, tight bandage around Fayt's arm, and another over his chest and stomach. "Did you lose much blood?" Fayt nodded. "dammit, so you'll need more?"

"I think I'll pull through as long as I don't lose any more."

Albel eyed Fayt uncertainly. "If we get far away enough, we can take you to a different hospital."

"Won't that be risky? It won't take them long to figure out this was you, with them dead, your finger prints all over the place, and me missing."

Albel smirked. "I don't care. I can hold doctors at gunpoint, you know." Fayt smiled slightly and nodded, knowing there was no stopping Albel, as he helped Fayt into his pants and carried him outside. He could see the same white car they had stolen just weeks ago, and smiled. Albel would take care of everything. Fayt was sure of it.