Diclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue, I'm writing this dislcaimer for you.
Author's Note: Sorry this took so long, my internet broke. But take a look at my reviews, people. Sixteen of them. And I'm posting a new chapter. Oh hell yes! Everyone be proud of Tolanya. I was going to wait like I usually do for 10 reviews, but what the hell! This chapter is angsty and the disclaimer isn't a disclaimer, because I'm not going to get sued. As always, I shall write more at the end of the chapter. Because you can pretend to care about my life. Yes. Read on.
Date Posted: May 2, 2006
The sky was bright orange with the setting sun as Albel turned a street corner and could see Luther's house. It was a quiet evening, the silence broken only by the rustling of new, green leaves in the breeze. About time I found the damn place. Must've got lost a dozen times, damn it. He broke into a run, looking around to make sure no one saw him dash up the front lawn of the brick house.
Masking tape now covered the broken window, and the knife sliced through it easily. Hah. He didn't think I would be back so soon. Albel smirked and crawled in through the window.
This time, there was only silence. No one came to stop Albel as he quietly walked down the hallway, turning up the same staircase as before and walking towards Luther's room. He stopped before the white, wooden door, staring at it. This is it. I die, or we both get out.
Albel threw the door open, holding the knife out in front of him. In one corner of the room, Luther sat in a leather chair, with Fayt on his lap. The blue-haired boy, Albel noted, was half-dressed, wearing only a pair of jeans.
"Albel!" Fayt cried out, starting to leap up, only to be pulled back down by Luther.
With a confident smirk, Albel stepped forward. "Let go of him."
Luther's cold laugh sounded, and he only pulled Fayt closer. "Are you trying to get killed, Albel?"
Albel stared into Luther's eyes. "I don't care if I do. Let go of him, now." His voice was low and dangerous.
Fayt struggled against Luther's grip, trying to break free. The blonde boy refused to let him go, hugging Fayt against him tightly. Damn bastard, that's the last time he touches Fayt.
"Luther, let him go. Do you want him to get hurt in this?"
Luther narrowed his eyes at Albel, but let go of Fayt. The boy ran to Albel, throwing his arms around his lover. "I'm sorry," he whispered, burying his face in Albel's chest.
"Are you ok?" Albel asked, tilting Fayt's face up towards him. He pushed Fayt away slightly, eyes scanning his body for any marks or bruises.
"I'm fine," Fayt reassured.
He's right, Luther didn't hurt him… Albel glared up at Luther, before pulling Fayt into a hug. He could sense jealousy from Luther, and it only made him more satisfied to have Fayt back.
"Never do that again," Albel whispered into Fayt's ear. "Never."
"I won't," Fayt whispered back.
Ignoring Luther's presence, Albel leaned in and kissed Fayt. It was the first time Albel had kissed Fayt gently, lovingly, without lust. He was almost afraid to, but with Fayt, it was different. He pulled away, staring into Fayt's green eyes and whispered, too softly for Luther to hear, "I love you."
For the first time, he knew he really meant it, and always would.
"Let go of me. I'm going to kill him," Albel's voice was soft, yet deadly. Fayt squeezed Albel's thin body tightly, before they both released each other.
Fayt slowly stepped back, giving Albel space to attack Luther. But by then, Luther had a knife in his hands, too. To the death, then. Albel looked at Fayt for a moment, and knew he was enough to fight and die for.
Luther attacked first, charging at Albel, knife pointed at him. Albel ducked and slashed at Luther's hand, tearing open the skin on his knuckles. Both boys glared at each other for a moment, and then there was only a blur of iron and blood. Albel fought with everything he had, stabbing wildly at Luther and still managing to swiftly duck under Luther's knife.
The fight was intense and fast-paced, and by the time they were several minutes into it, they were both slowing down. Gritting his teeth, trying not to show how tiring the fight was, Albel lunged at Luther yet again, and the boy spun out of the way, running the tip of his knife over Albel's cheek. "Shit," he muttered, wiping the blood off his face.
"Ready to give up yet?" Luther called out mockingly.
The blade in Albel's hand sliced into the skin on Luther's already bleeding knuckles. "Never," Albel answered.
Luther grimaced and attacked, and again the battle continued it's fast-paced rhythm. Albel seemed to be winning, slicing up Luther's arms and hands, trying to hurt him so he would drop the knife. Part of Albel just wanted to mutilate his hands so badly he could never touch Fayt again, even if he won this.
Albel threw all his force into one blow, aiming for Luther's neck. Luther tried to counter it, only to realize it was useless and duck. By that time, Albel was so worn out his reflexes were fatally slow.
Everything that happened next was a blur. Luther pulled his knife back and swung it at Albel's heart, full-force. Albel didn't have time to put up a guard. And then, out of nowhere, Fayt was there. Albel saw the knife bury itself halfway in Fayt's stomach, saw the blood.
"Fayt!" he yelled, catching the boy as he fell. Blood spilled onto Albel as he knelt down, one hand holding up Fayt's head, the other one on his back. "Fayt, talk to me!"
Fayt's eyes opened, a hazy green. "Albel." He spoke the name softly.
Luther stepped forward, as if to take Fayt from Albel. "Go get help!" Albel barked at him. "Call a damn ambulance!"
Dark eyes assessed Albel, who glared back. Luther nodded and ran off. Albel turned his attention back to Fayt. "You fool," he whispered, tracing along Fayt's jaw with his finger. "That knife was meant for me, not you."
Fayt smiled up at Albel, the cute smile Albel had always been so reluctant to admit he loved. "I didn't want him to kill you."
Albel blinked back tears, refusing to cry even now. "Fayt… I love you."
The blue-haired boy's smile never faded. "You've changed Albel. You aren't… afraid anymore."
Tears filled Albel's eyes, and he blinked harder. "No. I'm not. Don't die now, Fayt. Please, live."
"I can't promise you I will," Fayt answered softly.
Albel shook his head. "Live." It was the only word he could manage to say. Fayt stared up at Albel, a trace of fear in his eyes before he closed them. He's afraid to die… Albel pulled Fayt's limp body close to him, as close as he could without touching the knife in him.
He didn't know how long he held Fayt like that for. Albel could feel the boy's heart beating steadily, a reminder he was still alive. And then he could hear sirens outside.
Picking Fayt up, Albel carried him down the hallway, down the stairs, where a group of ambulance workers waited with a stretcher. Luther stood with them, his eyes full of shock and bewilderment. One man rushed to Albel, who glared at him for a moment before reluctantly handing Fayt over.
Neither Albel or Luther left Fayt's side as they put him on the ambulance. The tension between the two was as heavy as ever, though Fayt wasn't awake. Albel refused to speak to Luther, staring down at Fayt's body, just lying there, bleeding.
People stared at the odd group as they hurried through the emergency room. Fayt, with a knife in his stomach, and Albel and Luther, cut up and bleeding. Red eyes glared at the patients, lying in their beds, sick or injured. Useless fools.
Fayt was rushed into a smaller room and laid down in a bed, and doctors dressed in white began to tend to him. They ran about the room frantically, grabbing supplies Albel couldn't name, trying to stop the bleeding from Fayt.
Finally, one of the doctors, a man who looked to be in his forties, with specks of gray in his faded brown hair, pulled Albel and Luther aside, his brown eyes studying them carefully. "What's the boy's name?" The doctor's voice was kind, yet he seemed a little wary of the two.
"Fayt," Albel answered. "Fayt Leingod."
The doctor nodded. "Are either of you related to him?"
Albel shot a glance at Luther, wondering if he had any sort of plan. If he tells them he's with Fayt… Albel quickly answered, "He's mine." The brown-haired man raised an eyebrow at Albel, but he was used to getting that sort of reaction by now. "He's my lover," Albel clarified, daring the man to comment.
Luther gave Albel an annoyed glare. "I'm, uh… good friends with Fayt."
The doctor seemed sharp enough to pick up on the looks passing between them. "I see, then. Does he have any family?"
"He has a mother," Albel answered sharply.
Sighing, the doctor nodded. "We'll need to let her know what's happened, then." He turned to leave the two standing there, but Albel grabbed his arm. The doctor spun around to face Albel, whose piercing red eyes were fixed on him.
"Is he going to be ok?" Albel asked in a low voice with a distinct edge to it.
The doctor sighed again, running a hand through his thick hair. Luther stepped forward, looking suddenly worried. "He probably won't survive the night. The knife went through his stomach, he's lost a lot of blood. We should be able to fix that, but there's a pretty high chance of blood poisoning."
Albel let go of the doctor, looking to Fayt's lifeless form lying on the hospital bed. He probably won't survive the night… Fayt… I can't let you… Albel turned his gaze to Luther, glaring at him. This is Luther's fault. For taking him away.
Luther stepped back, nodding, his eyes blank and unreadable. It annoyed Albel that Luther could be so upset over Fayt. Only he should care, because Fayt belonged to Albel, and only Albel. Both boys looked each other in the eye, and though the tension was still there, this changed everything.
"We're going to try to take the knife out of him. It'll cause more bleeding, but that should be alright." The doctor looked up at Albel, then Luther. "We won't wake him up for it, but you two can stay if you want."
The man walked off, presumably to find Fayt's mother. Albel took in a deep breath and walked to the bed where Fayt lay, three doctors around him. If he doesn't wake up again, then that was the last time I'll talk to him. The knowledge hit Albel hard, and he could only watch, powerless, as the doctors prepared to take the knife out of Fayt.
But that was mine. Meant for me. I should be lying dead on Luther's floor. And instead it's Fayt… Guilt settled into Albel. And stayed with him as he watched, nervously, as the doctors took the knife out of Fayt.
They managed to get the knife out, while Fayt still slept, knocked out from painkillers now. But the blood flowed freely out of him, no matter how hard they tried to stop it. Albel fought to contain his emotions, though really he wanted nothing more than to push everyone else away and hold Fayt close to him. And then no one else would be able to see him, to touch him, to feel the warm, red blood flowing out of him.
Luther was as silent as Albel then, just watching as Fayt was bandaged. The two of them didn't say a word to each other for a long time. Fayt's mother never showed up, but Albel had a feeling she was still out looking for him.
The hours began to pass more quickly. Albel was starting to become restless, pacing around the room. Doctors came in at least once an hour to check on Fayt, usually to change the blood-stained bandages. And in the passing of time, watching Fayt breathe and sleep and bleed, Albel could feel the rivalry between him and Luther.
It was in the way they looked at each other, sending glares over Fayt's body. Luther's face was still smeared with blood, and his hands were covered in cuts. Albel knew he had a cut across his face, slanting down his cheek. None of the doctors seemed to want to ask what had happened, both boys were too intently focused on Fayt to worry about any injuries they might have.
Just past midnight, two doctors walked in, wheeling a new machine. Albel spun to face them immediately, glaring sharply. "What are you doing to him?" he snapped, pointing at the machine.
"Giving him more blood," one doctor, a blonde woman, answered, sounding annoyed.
Albel nodded and stepped aside, allowing them to transfer more blood into Fayt, who still seemed to be losing blood. He is bleeding pretty heavily… probably worse on the inside. Crimson eyes examined the tank. Enough for now I guess. And the two of them sank back into their pattern of watching and waiting.
The pattern was interrupted again in the early morning. Albel's eyes were fixed on Fayt's sleeping face, when Fayt stirred slightly. Luther must have noticed it too, because they both leaned forward. Slowly, Fayt's eyes opened, revealing their dulled green color.
"Fayt!" Albel's voice was quiet, yet urgent. Fayt looked to Albel and tried to sit up, only to wince in pain. Albel touched Fayt's arm and shook his head. "Don't push yourself."
Fayt smiled and leaned back onto the bed. "You care." Albel raised one black eyebrow. Fayt's smile broadened. "You're always so distant, Albel. Until you came to rescue me from Luther, I didn't know…"
Albel knelt down next to Fayt. "It took me too long to realize."
"Am I going to be ok?" Fayt asked, a sort of child-like innocence in his voice that Albel adored.
Albel looked away from Fayt's green eyes. "They don't think you'll survive the night." He fixed his gaze on the white bed sheets, now flecked with drops of red blood.
On the other side of Fayt's bed, Luther knelt down. "Fayt." His voice was even.
Albel looked up as Fayt turned his head to Luther. If Luther even tries to touch him, he's going to regret it.
"Do you feel ok?" Luther asked, and Albel hated to admit to himself that Luther sounded like he actually cared.
There was a long silence as Fayt stared at Luther. "Why?" he asked. Just one word, but it was enough. They all knew.
Luther never wavered. "Because I love you. You should have let me get him."
Albel's hands clenched into fists. He didn't care what Luther thought of him, or if Luther wanted him dead. It was about Fayt, not him. Albel hated the idea of Luther lusting after Fayt, but the idea that Luther actually loved Fayt was worse.
"Luther…" Fayt's voice was weak. "Don't hurt him."
The blonde stroked Fayt's cheek. "Fayt…"
Albel glared at Luther from across the bed. "Get your hands off him." Albel's voice was threatening, and Luther let go.
The door swung open and a young, black-haired doctor walked in. "Oh, he's awake! Good. How do you feel Fayt?"
Albel rolled his eyes and stood aside, reluctantly letting the doctor examine Fayt, though he would have preferred no one else touch Fayt at all. After what Luther did to him, and just last night… I shouldn't let anyone else near him. But I don't have a choice. Albel scowled. Besides, he's just a doctor.
Still, Albel's whole body was tense as the doctor unwrapped the bandage around Fayt's waist and carefully examined the wound through a sluggish flow of blood. Finally, he took his hands off Fayt's stomach and Albel relaxed. Luther must have noticed, because his eyes were full of mocking as he stood up.
The doctor sighed, looking down at Fayt. "The blood is much slower from the wound. But we just finished tests." He sighed again, looking tired. "You have blood poisoning. By now, you could go into shock, and then you're highly likely to die."
Fayt's eyes widened, but he nodded, the news was somewhat expected. Another doctor, this one old and graying, came in then, swiftly hooking Fayt up to an IV containing medicine. Albel watched warily, but the man only needed Fayt's arm. And with that done, they left, saying Fayt needed to be supervised but they didn't have enough doctors, and trusting Albel or Luther would yell if there was a problem.
As soon as the door closed, Luther looked up at Albel and laughed humorlessly. "Won't even let the doctors touch him, Albel?"
Albel narrowed his eyes at Luther. "You bastard."
Luther laughed again. "He offered himself to me, it wasn't rape. And Fayt didn't seem to mind."
Anger rose up in Albel, an he fought to control it. "Didn't seem to mind! He was bargaining with you, that's it!"
"Sure didn't act like it, did you Fayt?" Luther's voice was smug. Fayt looked away and blushed. "I'm surprised he had enough energy to do it again in the morning."
Fayt blushed more deeply at that, which Albel had to inwardly admit made him look cute. "Y-you were going to kill Albel… I had to stop you."
Luther smiled at Albel. "He's good, too. Really good."
The color in Fayt's cheeks came right back. Albel smirked at Luther. "I know." It was enough to remind Luther whose bed Fayt was usually in.
Frowning, Luther looked down at Fayt. He should have never slept with Fayt. He's going to pay. And if Fayt acted as willing as he said… He must have been desperate to stop Luther.
Red eyes turned on Fayt, who looked back up at him and shivered. Albel frowned. "Fayt, you're shivering. It's not cold." Fayt shrugged in response. Albel reached out and touched his cheek. It was eerily cold against his warm hand.
Luther looked up at Albel, though this time with concern in his voice. "Is he ok?"
"Must be the blood poisoning," Albel's eyes remained fixed on Fayt. "Do you feel ok?"
Fayt shivered again. "I'm cold."
Albel wanted to hold Fayt in his arms then, to keep him warm and safe from Luther. Fayt looked up at him, his eyes full of fear. He's afraid of dying… Albel knelt next to Fayt and leaned in, black and blonde hair falling over his shoulders. "You're going to be ok," he whispered in Fayt's ear.
And Fayt just looked up at him with hopeless eyes.
Author's Note: Are my notes too cheerful after all the angst? Hm. So did any of you do Day of Silence? It was for lesibans, gays, bisexuals, transgenders and their "allies". That's most of you. I did it. It was really cool. I was the only one at my school who did it. Everyone else is afraid they'll be called gay. Ah, it's great to already be known as "The Bi Girl" anyway. XD Review if you feel like it. Tolanya doesn't mind if you don't anymore.
Yes AlbelFittir- I have taken your advice. Welcome to 16 reviews. XD