Disclaimer: Sorry it took so long… And I'm sorry if you don't like how this is going. PS: Slash and Torture in this one.

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Jack and Ralph had stopped again. They were sitting across from each other, on their knees, their body covered in water from their mid chests down. They both licked their lips, simultaneously, to get the blood off, and heal the wounds before they kissed again.

"So did you?" Jack's voice sounded off beat, again. Like his old voice shining through.

"Did I what?" Ralph couldn't remember much of anything at that moment. His whole mind was a fuzzy mess of images involving Jack.

Jack grinned and playfully splashed Ralph. "Did you ever kiss anyone like that before?"

Before Ralph had time to catch himself, he started to shake his head. He stopped, as soon as he realized, and blushed. Jack just grinned. "You seem to know what you're doing."

"It comes natural, I guess."

"Yeah."

"Have you?" Jack was expecting the question back, and he shook his head, too. That surprised Ralph.

"I haven't kissed anyone like that before the island."

Ralph suddenly thought of Roger. The way Jack worded it, made it seem like Ralph wasn't the first on the island. And Roger was always really close to Jack. Ralph looked around, expecting to see Roger standing there, with a fruit again, asking if Ralph was Jack's obedient slave yet.

Ralph frowned. He was Jack's obedient slave.

Ralph watched Jack. He was acting like nothing was weird. Two guys just got done kissing, (for the third time in less than twenty-four hours) there was blood on his lips, and he was just washing his shoulders and arms, removing something that wasn't even there.

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Roger was storming through the forest, growing fiercer with every step. Every time he slammed his foot down, (angrily, but silently) his eyes grew darker. He knew what he was going to find. The other boys had said it. "Teaching Ralph how to hunt." That was what Jack use to say to the other boys with Roger, too.

"Yes." Jack would say. "We're going down to the stream. Roger's got to improve his aim, if he wants to kill anything. I'm going to teach him how to hunt, better."

Roger never learned anything down by the stream, except how to wrestle. How to force someone down and how to take what he wanted from them. Jack was strong, but he never followed his own rules. "Don't let your emotions control you." He'd said. He meant, of course, that time him and Simon and Ralph went out exploring and he couldn't kill the pig. That was the emotion he was talking about.

But his lust always got the better of him. And one day, it snapped and Jack had kissed Roger. It was only once, because Jack got embarrassed. He said he was sorry, and they never did it again. Roger always wanted to, but forcing the Chief wasn't something he was going to do.

So he got Eric.

Eric was still sobbing, afraid, behind him. He seemed to know too. He knew what was coming.

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"We'd be lynched, you know." Jack's voice was strange. Ralph couldn't tell why it was so different, but something about it was. He was scared, Ralph thought.

"Lynched for what?" Ralph ran his fingers over his neck, trying to get some dirt off.

"For snogging, you idiot." Jack laughed, but he believed it.

Ralph scoffed. "We would not. The government doesn't lynch people anymore. I know 'cause my daddy told me."

Jack shrugged, not believing Ralph. "Thank God we're not in Britain. I don't want to get lynched."

"Well then stop kissing me." Ralph grinned, playful as it was, it almost sounded serious. Not a request, because both boys wanted to do that still, but something about it seemed tempting.

"I'm the Chief and I'll do what I want." Jack said, grinning, and kissed Ralph more gently. A way that couldn't be described as savage lust. It was caring… and Ralph enjoyed it.

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Roger sighed. All he had to do was step out from behind the tree. The world would either be a lot simpler or a lot bloodier, depending on what he saw. He didn't hear anything but the small waves of the water. Was that a good sign?

Eric wouldn't look either. Roger figured he feared for his own life. But that wasn't it. He knew how angry Roger would be because if Eric's information was false. Eric's body shook. "Run, Eric. RUN!" But he couldn't move. His body yelled, his body cried, but still, no movement came, except for two tears running down his dirty cheeks.

Roger looked.

Ralph was leaning back, one hand on the back of Jack's neck, the other holding himself up. Jack was leaning the same way, but he was facing that direction, pushing down into the kiss. It was the type of kiss Roger use to see in the end of a movie, when the guy finally got the girl. Everything was still, everything was happy. Things were how they should be. But this wasn't how Roger wanted his end to be.

Eric peeked. Jack and Ralph were so involved with each other; they didn't notice the other two. Eric felt the bliss, like heat, coming off the two teenaged boys. Eric looked at Roger.

He wasn't doing anything. He was simply watching. He didn't look mad, or anything. Eric knew better. Roger was in shock. It wouldn't last long.

Roger looked at Eric, suddenly. It was such a quick movement, that Eric jumped. "You lied to me."

"No... Roger... I swear." Eric backed away, tears still running down his dirty face.

"You wanted to make an idiot out of me."

"Roger… please."

"This was all a set up." Roger started at Eric, who continued to back away. "You knew the whole time they were doing this." Eric shook his head, sobbing, but Roger ignored it. "You were waiting… until the perfect chance… then you'd lead me down here and show me them. Because you knew. You knew about Jack 'n me. And you were jealous. You wanted… you wanted me to yourself. Didn't you Eric?"

"Please, Roger. Please." Eric closed his eyes. He'd backed against a tree and he was waiting for the gap to close. The six or seven foot gap between him and his tree and Roger. "I swear… I just wanted you-"

"And you admit it!" It wasn't loud, but full of venom. Roger's eyes narrowed. He didn't have a spear, but the way his hands were placed at his side, ready to attack. His teeth, through bloody, chapped lips, looked more deadly than a dog's fangs.

He raised his hands, ready to pounce on the twin, when the twin's adrenalin finally took control of his brain. He turned and ran, Roger not close enough to have him pinned to the tree, yet. He ran for his life, Roger close behind.

Roger was playing with Eric, of course. Like a cat might play with a mouse before it corners and attacks. Eric had never been a strong runner. He'd never outrun Roger before. He'd tried, once or twice, but always ended like Ralph on the beach: hog tied, dizzy from blood loss, with sand in the wounds.

Eric didn't realize where he was until he almost stepped off. They were at the mountain. Where him and Sam had saw the beast that night. There was no beast, now. There was nothing but ashes and dead trees, and a torn piece of cloth that could have come from anywhere.

The cloth made him think of Simon, and he cried, and turned around to face his death like a man.

Roger was standing there, eyes still filled with a horrific amount of anger, and he was panting. "Step away from the ledge." He said. Eric obeyed. He walked closer to the center, he didn't want to fall off. He'd much rather be beaten. One final beating that he deserved. He always deserved them.

"I'm sorry, Roger." But before Eric could say anymore, Roger was on top of him, punching, scratching, and biting as if his life depended on it.

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Jack and Ralph had stopped again. They were use to feeling each other, even if had only been less than twenty-four hours. So many things had happened so quickly. Ralph getting captured, Roger asking if Ralph was Jack's plaything, the hunt for the pig, the slaughter, the party, becoming Jack's plaything, and learning how to hunt all in one day.

It was mind-blowing.

"I never gave you anything for your birthday." Ralph said, looking up at Jack.

Jack winced. "My fourteenth year."

"Your birthday."

"It's not a birthday. I had no cake. I don't even know what day it is. It was not a birthday. Birthdays are for Englishman. We're savages. It was the celebration of me going into my fourteenth year." Jack stayed surprisingly calm as he spoke. Ralph smiled.

"I never gave you anything at the celebration of your fourteenth year."

Jack played with his hands, avoiding eye contact. "Yes, you did. Remember that night?"

Ralph grinned. "I want to give you something that's forever."

"Are you saying your not forever?" Jack looked up at Ralph and grinned too.

"Something materialistic."

"Okay. Fine. What is it?"

Ralph frowned. "It's not done yet." Ralph found himself looking at the Chief's necklace that Roger had made. He found himself angry because he didn't think of the idea first. Anything to make Jack have more of an ego… would be the perfect gift.

That's why his idea was so great.

"So what are you asking for?"

"Some time alone to finish it."

Jack sighed, as though debating whether or not he should let the boy have time alone. It could be used, as he said, to make a present, but who knows what Ralph might try. He might try to build a raft and float home. Another boy might catch Ralph's eye and Jack wouldn't be needed anymore.

Ralph laughed. "I'll stay right here, I promise." His voice lowered. "Besides, I'm actually starting to… well like is the wrong word… but tolerate being here, on this chunk of hell… with you."

Jack grinned. "I like it here."

"I know you do."

Jack stood up. "Promise you're not going to go and hurt yourself or try to leave or something? I don't want to hunt you down again, but if I have to, I will." Jack raised his eyebrows in a suggestive way. "And then I'll have to wrestle you down again."

Ralph laughed. "But I can fight back now."

Jack grinned. "True, true. I'll leave you be… but… be careful, okay?" Jack's eyes shown his concern, but before he started talking again, he turned and walked back up to Castle Rock.

Ralph was alone, at last.

He sighed and got out of the water, shaking like a dog to try and dry himself off a little. He ran his fingers through his hair, and got the spear that Jack had thrown down earlier. He walked back to the stream, found a rock, and started to hack off the sharp part of the spear.

Then, he used a smaller rock to carve out an indent in the middle of it. He dug in his pocket, in what was left with the pants he came to shore with, and got out the sharp rock that he'd been sharpening while the hut was being built. He was surprised he didn't get hurt on it, when him and Jack were wrestling.

He slid the sharp rock in the new slit in the spear, and used a vine to tie it together.

That was a spear. Damage could be done a lot easier with this thing, than a sharpened stick.

Then he heard applause.

The clapping was slow, mocking him. He looked around, and saw Roger step out from behind a tree. Roger was bloody. There was blood on his chest, and arms, and fingers. It was in his hair, and all over his face. His legs didn't have much on them. Ralph looked. It looked… splattered. Ralph couldn't find an actual wound hole. He felt sick. That wasn't Roger's blood.

"You think you're cleaver… don't you Ralphie?" Roger stood across the stream, ten feet away. Ralph clenched the spear in his hands.

"Any idiot can tie a rock to a stick. Jack will be unimpressed."

Ralph frowned. He liked it. He thought Jack would like it too.

"You're quiet for once." Roger started across the stream. Ralph backed up instinctively. "Quiet suits you. You're more attractive with your mouth shut." Ralph whimpered but Roger kept walking forward until Ralph, like Eric was before, was pinned against a tree.

Roger didn't waste his chance, this time. His hands had pinned Ralph to the tree, grabbed the spear, and yanked it from his hands, all in a fraction of a second. Ralph closed his eyes, knowing he was going to die.

Death wasn't what he felt.

Roger had cut, with Ralph's spear, down Ralph's chest, making a gash almost identical to the one he gave Eric. His new trademark slash. Ralph winced. He understood now. He wasn't going to die instantly. If he died, it would be slow… from blood loss.

Ralph was pulled down from the tree and he landed on his back, cutting it on something. He winced again. "Open your eyes. Take it like a man."

Ralph opened his eyes. Roger was sitting on him, playing with the blood like a small child might play with a puddle. Sticking his dirty hands in it, feeling it. Ralph tried to move, but Roger wasn't like Jack.

Though Roger was clearly enjoying this, he wouldn't get distracted. Roger wouldn't let Ralph on top. Roger leaned down and Ralph could feel his breath on the wound. He groaned, getting dizzy from blood loss. Then he felt another shock of pain run through his body. He forced his head up to look.

Roger was licking the wound.

Ralph rocked again, trying to get Roger off. Roger just brought his face up, looking like a rabid dog that just killed and ate some animal. Roger wiped his mouth and grinned. "Let's see… Ralphie. Let's see why Jack chose you and not me."

Ralph couldn't understand what he was talking about until Roger was kissing him. He tried to fight back, shaking his head, fighting, but Roger just gripped Ralph's hair in his hands, so any movement at all caused pain.

Roger forced his tongue into Ralph's mouth, and Ralph felt tears form in his eyes. He shut them, trying to block it out. He bit down, biting Roger's tongue. That was enough to get him to back away.

Roger sat and wiped his mouth again, before spitting blood off to one side of Ralph. Ralph shook again, but Roger kept him down.

"My blood's not as good as yours."

"Leave me alone, Roger." Ralph's voice was fading, as with his consciousness.

"What are you going to do about it?" Roger sneered, his hands on Ralph's shoulders, keeping him down. Roger knew Ralph was loosing a lot of blood. Not enough to kill him, yet, but that would happen if he didn't get it bandaged up.

Like Eric… that once.

Suddenly, Ralph had a realization.

"You killed Eric, didn't you?"

Roger grinned and Ralph could feel Roger's legs loosen around his hips. "Maybe." He answered like if his mother just accused him of taking the last cookie.

Ralph shook his head. "You're disgusting."

"I need a new plaything. How about you, Ralphie? You seem to be good enough for Jack." Roger dug his thumbs into Ralph's wound as he said Jack.

Ralph groaned.

Roger laughed like a child at Christmas time. "Are you scared?"

Ralph didn't answer and he felt Roger's legs loosen once more.

"Are you afraid of dying?" No reply, so Roger continued with. "I'm not."

Ralph was breathing heavily. Roger knew he was going to pass out soon. He grinned and waited. But that's not what happened, exactly. Ralph, having fooled Roger into think he was woozier than he was (and he was quite woozy without faking) took the spear that was laying on the ground, and swung it at Roger. Roger jumped up and out of the way, but got a small slice on his forearm from it.

Ralph got up, and heard something. "Jack?" He yelled. "JACK!"

Roger jumped on him, pinning him to the tree, banging Ralph's head against the bark. Ralph groaned. "You can't always call your boyfriend to fight your wars for you… I'll be back."

And with that, Roger ran off, in the same direction he came, and Ralph fell to the ground. He gasped a few more short breaths of air, and heard some boys talking. Maurice was one of them. "Is that Ralph?"

"Ralph! Hang on!"

"Go get Jack!"

How many where there? Colored blurbs ran in every direction and Maurice leaned over, rubbing a piece of damp cloth over Ralph's forehead. "Hang on, Ralph…"

But Ralph slid from consciousness.

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(NA: Sorry that took so long. I think there's only one more chapter. Two at the most, but probably only one. Pleeeeease review and tell me what you think, and where you think it's going to go. You never know… that might just happen. )