-1It was dark when Fayt woke up for the second time since Albel had left. The doctors said he was getting better, that he might be ready to leave by morning. Luther was still awake, and he smiled at Fayt, though unconvincingly. Luther… he killed my mother so he could keep me. He'll find a way to make sure I go back with him, no matter how much pain it causes me.

"Fayt…" Luther trailed off, and Fayt looked up at him. "Fayt, they just told me. Albel's been arrested."

That woke Fayt up. He sat up abruptly, staring at Luther. "Why? What did he do?"

Luther sighed. "It was the middle of the day. He killed five people, on a street corner near here." Luther leaned in, his face inches from Fayt's. "They think he'll get the death penalty."

Fayt's world went blank for a second. "No- not Albel… They can't…."

"Don't you see? This means me and you have nothing to worry about." There was a harsh undertone to Luther's words, and Fayt wondered if he was glad Albel was going to be killed.

Fayt turned away, wiping tears out of his eyes. Slowly, he lay back down, staring up at the ceiling. Shock coursed through his veins, despair pounded in his head. Nobody can kill Albel. He's too strong, he'd never let anyone.

Fayt turned on his side suddenly, looking up at Luther. "Are you sure? You really think they'll kill him?"

Luther's eyes turned cold. "Yeah. I've seen it done for guys who only committed one murder."

I knew Albel was like this. I've known for so long, but I always thought he must have had a reason to kill his father. He wouldn't just go and kill someone for the fun of it… Something must have happened to him.

"Do you know why he did it?" Fayt asked.

"The reporters say he was mad. I mean crazy, insane. He killed all five of them with no problem, then he started talking to himself, reaching out for something." Luther shrugged. "Does it matter? It's just me and you now, and the doctors say you'll be out tomorrow."

Luther didn't even try to hide what he meant with his voice, and his eyes were running over Fayt's exposed chest. No, not again… I need to help Albel. I don't care if he killed those people, I won't let them kill him! And yet, there was fear. No matter what he might say or think, Fayt was afraid of Luther.

Fear was what kept Fayt from stopping Luther. Fear was what kept Fayt from protesting when Luther took him home the next morning, after a sleepless night spent worrying about Albel.

It felt awkward to walk again, and Fayt still wore a bandage around his waist. The wound was healing, but it was still there. Despite that, Fayt was ready to leave Luther, to find Albel. He didn't know how, but Fayt had to rescue Albel.

At first, Luther just let him sleep. He must have been busy, because Fayt didn't see him again until night. And that was what he had been so afraid of. Being alone with Luther, in his room, in his bed.

But Luther didn't try anything. He lay there, holding Fayt against himself. Fayt tried to close his eyes, to imagine it was Albel, but Albel held him more tightly, like he could never get enough of Fayt.

"Fayt," Luther started softly, "Why did you love him?"

The question startled Fayt. "Because… I just do," he answered quietly.

"How'd you meet a guy like him? I mean, you come from… a different part of town."

"I was hurt," Fayt answered, his voice almost a whisper. "He saved me. And I don't know what happened… I think he saved me so he could sleep with me." Fayt could feel himself blush as he finished.

Luther just nodded. "I can see why."

Fayt didn't ask what he meant, just closed his eyes and fell asleep, Luther still holding him. He dreamed vividly that night, haunted dreams.

Albel sat on the floor in a prison cell, his hands chained to the wall. Fayt tried to run to him, to pull him out, but something held him back. He couldn't move, his shoulders refused. Fayt spun around and came face to face with Luther. "Come on Fayt, just leave him there," Luther commanded him.

Fayt turned back to Albel, but now a man knelt next to Albel, injecting poison into his body. "No! Albel! You can't kill him, I won't let you!" He tugged on Luther's hand, trying to make him help. "Please, Luther, help him! Just let him live!"

But Albel was dying anyway, and Fayt still couldn't move. He begged his legs to move, to save Albel, but he only watched as Albel died.

Someone whispered Fayt's name, waking him up. "Fayt, are you alright?" It was Luther, still lying next to him.

"A-Albel…." It was the only thing that Fayt could say.

Before he knew what was happening, Luther had pinned Fayt firmly to the bed and was on top of him. "What do I have to do to make you forget him? How many times do I need to be with you before you're mine and not his!"

"No," Fayt whispered. "You can't make me forget him."

There was madness in Luther's eyes, something wasn't right. Violently, he kissed Fayt, his tongue breaking past Fayt's lips. Fayt didn't want to kiss back, but he was driven by fear. Their tongues met and Fayt let Luther take control. It must have been enough for Luther that Fayt would kiss him. He broke away and rolled off Fayt, breathing heavily.

"But you are mine now. I can love you more than he did. Don't you want to be with me, Fayt?" Luther's eyes seemed so raw and honest suddenly, and Fayt had to wonder if Luther really did have feelings for him beyond lust.

And then Luther was sitting up, pulling Fayt up with him. Fayt winced slightly, but said nothing. He didn't really know what happened next. Only that Luther undressed him, held him down, and pulled Fayt's legs up, letting them fall over the blonde boy's shoulders.

Fayt didn't try to stop Luther, afraid Luther would just make it worse. He just closed his eyes, waited, wished himself in another place. But Luther didn't move. "Fayt. Do you want to be with me?"

"I-I want… I want Albel," Fayt managed in a broken voice.

"Let me be him. I want you, Fayt." Luther's voice was low and demanding.

Fayt opened his eyes, green and filled with tears. Luther ignored it, and took Fayt anyway. Fayt didn't know if he screamed or not. Only that he shut his eyes and felt pain. Luther's left hand drifted down from his shoulder to his hip, pulling Fayt closer. Behind closed eyes, Fayt could see Albel for a moment, and then there was more pain. He couldn't say how long it was before Luther finished with him.

The blonde boy let go of Fayt to drag both his hands over Fayt's legs, then pushed them off his shoulders to fall around him. Luther lay down next to him, legs still tangled. His lips softly touched Fayt's neck, trailing up to his lips. His tongue caressed Fayt's lips gently, then more forcefully when Fayt didn't respond. Barely pulling away, Luther pushed one finger into Fayt's mouth, pulled it out and slid his tongue in. Fayt was still too numb to do anything but let Luther have his fun until both closed their eyes and fell asleep.

The room was bright when Fayt woke up, and he closed his eyes again for a moment. His head was pounding, most of his body sore. Luther lay next to him, uncomfortably close. "I won't lose you to him anymore," Luther whispered. Fayt shivered, feeling a chill rush through him at Luther's voice.

"But, Luther-" Fayt began, then stopped. If I make him mad at me, he'll just do it again. And again, until I stop talking about Albel. I just need a way out of here, before it's too late.

"Don't worry," Luther said softly. "he's gone." There was a silence. "Fayt? Did Albel ever hit you?"

"No," Fayt answered quietly. "I know he seems like he would, but he was… different. He was never really… gentle, but he wouldn't just outright hit me."

Luther assessed Fayt quickly, then hugged him. "I'm sorry."

Without any explanation, Luther stood up, dressed, and left. Sorry… for the way Albel treated me? That was all before this anyway. I do love Albel, and I will find him again. It's just a matter of time.

Luther spent most of the day busy, talking to people, driving off and coming back. Fayt had no idea before then just how many people were under Luther. And Albel just barged right in here, none of them stopped him. He could have just called the police, anyone else would have. If Fayt wasn't in awe of Albel before, he was now.

And at the end of the day, Fayt found himself alone with Luther again. This time, Luther wasn't harsh or forceful. He just lay next to Fayt, talking softly.

"They start his trial tomorrow. If Albel knows what he's doing, he'll plead guilty and maybe they won't kill him. Then again, they probably will. Who knows what he'll do though? Last time I saw Albel, when he left, he was half mad."

Tomorrow… then I don't have much time. Maybe there isn't a way to save him. What do I know about breaking out of prison? Maybe he'll just die there…

Fayt shivered and Luther wrapped an arm around Fayt. "I can't believe it's finally just the two of us," he whispered into Fayt's neck. "He had you for years.Do you know how afraid I was you'd never leave him?"

I didn't leave him. He left me… Fayt looked at Luther, studied his face. "Why were you always trying to take me from him?"

Luther met Fayt's eyes, black on green. "Because I love you. Every little thing about you. You're different, Fayt. Nothing gets to you. You're not as cold as the rest of us. And Albel, he's colder than anyone. You shouldn't have to belong to him."

Fayt didn't move, didn't answer him. "Last night…" he dropped his voice to a whisper, because it hurt to admit. "You raped me."

"And now you're mine," Luther whispered roughly. "Not his."

Neither of them spoke after that. Fayt just closed his eyes and fell asleep. And dreamed, vividly, of Albel.

Days passed. Fayt spent his time waiting, watching the news for a glimpse of Albel. It wasn't going well for him. Albel was never good at talking to people, and there was clear evidence he had killed them. Between the knife with his fingerprints on it and the ten witnesses, it was obvious.

Luther couldn't have been happier. It seemed every time he saw Fayt his face would light up, he would smile at him, hug him, kiss him. Somewhere inside Fayt there was guilt. Did Luther really love him? Luther raped me. Luther kidnapped me. He doesn't really care.

Still, Luther acted like he did care. He wasn't rough like Albel. He was just demanding. What he wanted, he took. Fayt could try to push him away, or close his eyes and block everything out mentally. But Luther didn't notice. He was blind to Fayt when he wanted him, but otherwise he was too loving.

It was the opposite of Albel. Albel, who hadn't ever taken Fayt when he didn't want it, who was reluctant to be gentle and loving. Sure, Fayt knew he had cared about Albel more at first. Maybe Albel didn't even care at all when he slept with Fayt the first time.

Albel.

He was all that mattered.

It was three weeks after Albel's arrest when he was found guilty and his punishment was announced. As expected, he would be killed. And already they had found a doctor to do it. Albel was given three days to live under new, stricter laws.

Three days for Fayt to find a way to stop him from being killed.

He had a plan, and with some luck it would work. Luther had mentioned that he had someone working on tinkering with hand grenades to make them weaker, and had left one lying around. Fayt had taken it, and could use it to blow off the bottom of one of the bars on Albel's jail cell. Of course, they would have to escape quickly if they didn't want to get caught, but Fayt considered the risk worth it.

The first night, Fayt didn't even make it out of the bed. Luther woke up as soon as he moved. "Restless?" he asked, smirking.

"Yeah," Fayt answered uneasily, looking up at Luther.

Luther kissed Fayt's neck, rolling over on top of him. "Me too," Luther whispered.

Fayt didn't protest that night, but he didn't encourage Luther. He lay there and let Luther use him, touch him as he pleased, and by the time he was done, Fayt was too tired to leave, and Luther was holding him too closely.

The second night, his last chance, Luther was sleeping next to Fayt, but not holding him. Fayt slid out of bed silently and grabbed the grenade. He made it out to the street, walked out to the more crowded part of the city, full of clubs and restaurants, waved down a taxi and made it to the jail.

It was a cool night, wind blowing against Fayt as he walked around the building, searching for a way to break in. He came to a small hole in the ground, as if someone had tried to escape, and been caught first. There's probably someone on the other side. And this building is for the tougher prisoners. Fayt took a deep breath. Worth the risk, for Albel.

The hole must have been too small for whoever was in the cell on the other side, but Fayt managed to slide through it. It was dark on the other side. He could hear someone snoring, and froze, not wanting to bump into anyone. After a moment, Fayt's eyes adjusted to the darkness and moonlight allowed him to see.

A man was sleeping on a bed in the corner of the cell. He was large and nearly bald, tufts of oily hair falling over his eyes. Fayt looked around, wondered how he would get out. But he was lucky- one of the bars in the cell was bent in half. And this is the high security building? This is going to be easier than I thought. The man was probably in this cell because he would never fit through the hole in the ground or the bent bar- Fayt did. He crawled under the part of the bar that jutted out, and he was in a hallway of prison cells.

Fayt started down the hallway, the only sounds were those from the sleeping prisoners and his feet hitting the dirty cement floor. Green eyes scanned the cells of sleeping prisoners for Albel.

Fayt found him in the middle of the hall. For a moment, he just stared at Albel. He slept with a strangely sad expression in an orange suit too big for someone as thin as him. His hair was messy, darkened with dirt. And to Fayt, who had seen him sleeping enough times, he looked unfulfilled. Just empty, alone.

"Albel!" Fayt called out, hoping the other prisoners wouldn't wake up.

Albel woke instantly, as if from an uneasy sleep. Red eyes pierced through heavy darkness, staring at Fayt. And then, a moment of realization. Albel jumped up, ran to the bars at the front of the cell. "Fayt! Are you really here?"

A smile overtook Fayt. "Yeah. It's me." He stuck one hand between the bars and Albel placed his on top of it.

"It really is you…." Albel squeezed Fayt's hand. "I didn't know if you would make it out of the hospital." Albel looked at him for a long moment, eyes dancing.

Fayt's smile was fainter. "Yeah, I made it out. The day after you left, I got better and left the morning after that."

It didn't take Albel long to realize something was wrong. "Then… where did you go?"

Fayt didn't want to tell Albel. He was ashamed, hurt, broken. But in a small voice he answered, "Luther took me with him."

Crimson eyes flared angrily. "You had to live in the same house as him?" Albel's free hand curled into a fist, and for a moment he looked away. Then their eyes locked again, and he seemed to slowly understand. Then came the questions. "Then… what happened? Did he kiss you at all? Did you have to do anything to get out?"

"H-he-" Fayt stumbled, nearly collapsing against the bars of the cell. I didn't come all this way to back out because of what Luther did. Still, tears stung Fayt's eyes. "He raped me," he said in a whisper.

Albel cursed violently under his breath. "He always said he loved you." It was enough.

A warm tear fell down Fayt's cheek, and he bit his lip. "I'm sorry," Albel whispered. There was infinite understanding in his eyes, his hand pressed warmly against Fayt's. And somehow, Albel made the pain a little less.

"What about you? You look…" Fayt let his sentence trail off, Albel knew what he meant.

Albel looked away. "I didn't know, when I left. Didn't know how much I…" Albel took in a deep breath, looked down at Fayt. "I need you. And without you… I had to kill something, to make things better. I saw you after I killed them…"

Fayt nodded slowly. Albel must have gone mad, like Luther said. He held Albel's hand more tightly, realizing how dependant they were on each other. "But we're back together now. I'm here. Let's get you out."

"How?" Albel gestured around the cell. "No escape."

"Grenades. Luther's people made them. They're weak enough that I can blast away a little bit of the bars, and you'll be out." Fayt pulled the grenade out, showed Albel.

Albel thought for a second. "Did you have to do anything to get out?" He asked in a low voice.

"No. I snuck out," Fayt answered. He didn't mention the last time he tried to escape. "Alright, get in the back of the cell."

Albel obeyed, walking to the back wall of his cell. Fayt unplugged the grenade, dropped it, and stepped back. The noise was loud, waking up the other prisoners. And in the bright light, Fayt could see Albel's face clearly. Lack of sleep was evident, dark lines under his eyes. His hair was tangled and dirty in front of his eyes. But Albel wore an expression of determination.

As the explosion died, there were shouts from prisoners. The man in the cell next to them called out to the others, "A guy's here to rescue the psycho killer!"

Albel rolled under the bars, and he was next to Fayt in an instant, hands on his shoulders possessively. "He's mine, don't even think about it!" he called out sharply to the prisoners.

There were a few impressed whistles, and Fayt leaned against Albel. "Albel," he whispered, "Don't we need to run?"

There were footsteps in the distance, heavy booted feet that probably belonged to a guard. Fayt tugged on Albel's hand and they ran back to the cell Fayt came from. The man in the cell looked as though he might stop them, but Fayt dropped down and crawled through the broken bars before he could. Albel followed, and Fayt slid under the wall quickly.

Rain was falling heavily outside the prison, making Fayt's clothes and hair stick to him. Albel slid through the hole, joining Fayt in the downpour. They looked at each other for a moment, and then ran as fast as they could.

Fayt let Albel lead the way, rain blurring his vision as he followed. They ran, hard and fast, until Albel stopped and knelt down, digging as fast as he could. Sirens blared in the distance, inconvenienced by the need to take a paved road. "Albel, they're going to catch up!" Fayt shouted over the rain.

"I know!" he yelled back, standing up. In his hand was a dagger, the blade covered in dirt. He wiped it on the edge of his orange shirt, blade shining in the moonlight.

The thought of Albel killing made Fayt sick. He started, weakly, "Albel-"

"I have to," Albel answered evenly.

So cold… Six people now he's killed. Fayt shivered, wanted to run away from the situation. His knees felt weak, but he stood.

A police motorcycle arrived, skidding to a stop. Albel's face was cold, unreadable to Fayt. The dagger flew out of his hand with sudden force, flying through the air, a blur of silver, and burying itself in the chest of the officer. Fayt choked on his own spit, stumbled as he followed Albel to the motorcycle.

Albel took the gun out of the officer's belt and the dagger out of her heart, and tossed the body onto the wet grass, staining it with blood. Fayt took in a deep breath and followed as Albel climbed on to the motorcycle. He felt almost as if he didn't know Albel, who killed so easily. Over the rain, Albel called back, "Hang on tight, alright?"

Something in his voice, only the tiniest hint of worry, assured Fayt he was still Albel. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Albel and pressing against him. Then they were driving off, leaving behind the body. The sick feeling still didn't go away.

They drove on for at least an hour, rain never letting up. Thunder crashed and roared through the dark sky, the motorcycle swerving uneasily with inexperienced driving on empty streets Fayt didn't recognize. The whole time he was pressed against Albel's back, holding on as tightly a he could, never wanting to let go again- even if Albel was a killer.

Albel dumped the motorcycle on the road next to a forest. Silently, he took Fayt's hand and led him into the forest. They walked until they came to a small clearing, the forest floor padded by thick grass. Albel looked around, sat down, and Fayt did the same, leaning against Albel. Albel wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and Fayt settled against him.

"You killed that officer."

Albel nodded, staring out at the forest. "There was no other way. One of the guys in prison mentioned he buried a dagger there, and she was going to catch us." He paused. "If we get caught now, you'll be spending a long time in prison for helping me escape. Maybe five years."

"I know. I knew that when I came here," Fayt answered.

Albel gave Fayt a tiny smile, something rare for him. "But you came anyway." He lay down, pulling Fayt with him so they were still next to each other, looking up at the sky. "I won't let you get caught. You saw how they are in prison… They would… do things to you."

"Yeah," Fayt said softly, remembering Luther.

Albel smirked, taking Fayt's hand. "Then again," Albel added, "I don't blame them with the way you look right now. Thanks to Luther, I suppose?"

Fayt looked down at himself, blushed slightly. Luther had dressed him in a black shirt with no sleeves that was ripped at the end, revealing clear, pale skin. His jeans hung loosely, clinging to his hips. I look like Luther's whore. Then again, I guess I was.

"Yeah, Luther," he answered.

Albel leaned over, kissed Fayt's forehead. "Did he hurt you? Leave any marks on you?"

"Only when-" Fayt stopped, fisted his hands in the grass, yanking it out. He tried not to cry, not after everything he had just done. Come on Fayt, you rescued Albel from prison. Don't collapse crying now!

"Go ahead," Albel whispered.

Fayt sobbed loudly, and Albel turned to the side, pulling Fayt in close. Fayt buried his head in Albel's chest and just cried. Albel held Fayt as close as he could, the way Fayt missed. All their barriers were broken down, and Fayt let himself cry into Albel until his eyes were dry.

"Can you tell me what he did?" Albel asked gently when he was done.

"The first night I was there, it happened." Fayt tried to even out his breathing. "I had a dream about you. You were.. dying. I must have made noise while I was sleeping, because he woke me up. A-and.. I said I wanted you." Fayt sighed. "He kissed me. Then, he held me down, and-" Fayt cut off, then picked up again. "I still told him I wanted you. He raped me."

Albel looked thoughtful, studied Fayt for a moment. "Fayt, after that… Do you think maybe I'm not the kind of guy you want anymore? I want you to be ok. If I don't-"

Fayt's lips cut Albel off. Albel rolled on top of Fayt, kissing him back fiercely. Fayt lost himself in the moment, wrapping his arms around Albel's neck. The way Albel kissed was, Fayt now realized, different from Luther. He kissed with passion, real caring, and only a slight undertone of lust.

"Don't you dare leave me," Fayt said breathlessly.

"As long as that's what you want. I need you Fayt, but if I'm hurting you, I'll leave."

"Didn't you hear me? We're in this together."

Albel smirked and rolled on top of Fayt again, his hands under the hem of Fayt's shirt. "Together," he whispered, and his lips were on Fayt's.

Fayt kissed back, wanting to be rid of Luther, to have Albel instead. And Albel took him in his own way, roughly undressing him, running kisses over his neck, chest, stomach, fucking him harder. It had been only a few weeks, but Fayt could tell Albel had been tense the entire time.

Afterwards, Fayt lay in Albel's arms, half-dressed, panting; just like it had always been, but more meaningful now. Albel kissed him lightly, whispered, "I missed you." Fayt didn't have to answer, Albel just knew how he felt.

Luther can't have me anymore. Albel won't let him.