Author's note~ Hope you enjoy.

Catching his eye, the man held out a hand and smiled, wiggling his fingers, inviting the boy to join. Shaken out of his stupor, a wide grin exploding over his face, Newt raced to join the dance.

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Sparks from the burning sacrificial figure flew high into the sky, appearing as short flaring comets in the full dark of night. The gladers danced and danced, feet pounding, arms waving, war whoops and laughter filling the night air. Adrian excused himself from the churning mass long before the boys had danced themselves out, slipping out of the crowd and lingering by the feast table, lighting a cigarette and taking in the spectacle before him. Everyone was present and accounted for, everyone was full immersed in the almost hypnotic call of the drums. The fearless leader, usually so serious and collected, danced as frantically and carefree as the rest, a wide easy smile on his face. The responsibilities and stress of leadership in a high pressure situation weighed so heavily on his young shoulders that he had always been more reserved, more somber in demeanor when Adrian had spoken to him before. Now, for tonight, he could almost be any other teenager; free and carelessly happy, living in the moment.

The brusque, tough, almost irascible head cook for the glade was also in the thick of it, doing a hip swinging shimmy-shake that had Adrian raising his eyebrows in surprise and amusement. The smaller, more nimble kids were doing jumps and rolls, dropping to their knees and springing back to their feet in one slick movement, twirling through the crowd. The thicker, more muscular boys stomped their feet and flung their arms high in celebration. The scathingly sarcastic Minho was in a class all of his own, hips loose and fluid as his quick stepping feet all but flew across the impromptu dance floor. Weeks, months, years of fear and helplessness and repression were released as the boys continued to dance.

Catching a slight movement to one side, Adrian glanced over his shoulder and watched as Gally silently stepped up beside him, facing the dancing throng. After a moment of watching the man with a measuring gaze, Gally grunted and handed him one of the two jars of amber liquid he carried with him. Adrian nodded his thanks, taking a satisfying mouthful of the strong beverage and turned back to watch the show, the ember from his cigarette lighting his face up orange as he took a long drag. Strangely, it was Gally who broke the silence.

"You were right."

"Was I, now?" Adrian asked easily, not taking his eyes from the other gladers. The action was starting to slow down, bodies swaying more than dancing now.

"Yeah." Gally said begrudgingly, a little resignation in his voice at the admittance. "We...needed this. We didn't know it, but we really did need this. This chance to let off some steam."

Adrian turned back to him now, a satisfied but somewhat weary look in his eyes as he clinked glasses with the boy. "We all do, from time to time. Stress, fear, sweat, blood, tears? Facts of life. It ain't exactly been a fuckin' picnic in here for you guys. Pressure builds up, people start to crack, do stupid things. Blow it off or blow up. So I say screw it, blow it off. Which is exactly what I'm going to do in our new wrestling pit, once things settle down a bit."

"Thank you." Gally muttered, forcing the words out. As he'd been the most vocal against the necessity of a celebration during the planning, and the most derisive about the effect it would have on moral throughout the rest, Gally was feeling the growing pressure of guilt to make amends. Between his admission and his thanks he figured they were square and even again, and turned to beat feet in the other direction. Adrian watched him go, the strong, proud boy who none-the-less had made the effort to man up and eat crow.

"Hey Gally."

"What?"

"Join us at the ring. We'll have a match, show the others how it's done. I could use a good, strong competitor like you."

Gally turned, just a little, and the sneering smirk that crossed his face told the man that they were back to equal footing again.

"You won't be saying that when I knock you flat on your ass, shank."

"We'll see about that." Murmured Adrian, taking another drink of liquor and grinning into the darkness.

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Newt danced until he was almost ready to drop. Chest heaving, heart pounding, he finally decided to take a break for a bit, get his breath back. As he stepped away from the dancing, he noticed that things were definitely slowing down a bit now, most were milling around now, or taking a break as he was. A decent size group had gathered around the drums, and the players were more than willing to show any interested party how to play rhythms on their new toys. Seeing Adrian standing alone by the feast table Newt made a beeline for him, idly wondering if there was any food left. He'd danced off his dinner, and would happily accept a snack, were one available. He reached the man just as he was crushing out his cigarette.

"I gotta admit, you know how to throw a bloody party." Newt said, by way of greeting.

"Glad you're enjoying it." Adrian answered casually, tipping his jar back and finishing the last of his beverage. Newt caught the smell of it and frowned a little in consideration; Gally was the maker of spirits here in the glade, and it was already fairly well known that he really didn't care for the man. Why had he opted to share his precious booze with a guy he all but despised?

"Get that from Gally, did you?"

Adrian shrugged, unconcerned.

"Peace offering." He replied lightly, glancing around and gauging the general mood of the now scattered boys. "Ready for the next bit of entertainment?"

"Wh...there's more?!"

Adrian laughed, shaking his head at the boy.

"The night is young and so are we. Of course there's more. C'mon, kid, I'll show you."

Together, they walked over to a large oval area, newly made and blanketed in soft clean sand. Though there were about a dozen boys lingering around it now, no one was inside the ring yet. Adrian walked to the center without hesitation, turning to face the suddenly attentive boys and speaking in a loud, clear voice.

"So, you've had your feast, your speech, your song and dance. Now it's time to show us what you're made of. Our sloppers and track hos busted their asses for hours to put this little ring together, lets make good use of it. Any volunteers?"

As if appearing out of thin air, Gally stepped into the ring and stood, arms crossed, right in front of the man. Adrian nodded amiably.

"First off, we'll establish the rules. No punching, hitting below the belt, biting, whatever. No weapons. And no whining." Adrian flashed a cocky grin, drawing chuckles from the growing crowd. "Use your strength, and your wits. First one to be pushed out of the ring, looses. Everyone got that?"

Nods and murmurs of agreement from the boys. Gally stayed silent, though his did jerk a shoulder in an affirmative motion. Adrian and Gally each took a step back, both moving into a slight crouch as they readied themselves. "On three, then. One...two...three!"

Newt stifled a gasp as Gally rushed the man, eyes narrow and locked on his prey. Adrian stayed where he was, braced for contact, letting the boy come. At the very instant when Gally would have grabbed his shoulders and shoved, Adrian pivoted, ducking under Gally's arm and slapping a hand on his back, hooking his forward leg with a well aimed foot. Gally did a rather inglorious face plant into the sand, mere inches from the edge of the ring. The watching boys shouted, surprise and excitement. Adrian circled around and back, and Gally rolled quickly to his feet, his face red with anger and embarrassment. He lunged for the man again. This time, Adrian met him in the middle, gripping his opponent's shoulders even as large hands found a grip on his own. Their audience was actually cheering now, calling out encouragement to one or the other as they grappled mightily, the muscles in their shoulders and back rippling from the effort.

Gally tried to hook Adrian's leg but the man was too quick, blocking the motion and slipping out of Gally's grasp like a fish, only to be tackled to the ground a heartbeat later.

After a moment of fast rough wrestling, the two competitors found themselves face to face on their knees in the middle of the ring, hands clasped, arms trembling lightly as each exerted immense force, trying to overpower the other. Their names were being chanted by the group, some rooting for their chief builder, others for their new greenie. Newt, caught up in the thrill and excitement of the moment, lead the group cheering Adrian on, his heart pounding in suspense as sweat poured down the faces of the struggling pair.

Then Adrian started to laugh.

Confused, Gally eased off the pressure and let go, perplexed as to the abrupt change in the man's attitude. Adrian continued to chuckle as he got to his feet, grabbing Gally's hand and hauling the boy up out of the sand. He slapped a companionable hand on Gally's shoulder, then turned and spoke to the roaring crowd.

"I believe we'll call that one a draw. Who's up next? Who's got the guts to step into the ring?"

Boys shouted their approval, shoving one another in a good-natured way as they eagerly stepped into the ring. With their infectious enthusiasm filling the air, Gally cracked a crooked smile, even going so far as to punch Adrian, almost lightly, on the shoulder. He headed off into the night and reappeared a short while later, apparently feeling generous, bearing a large pitcher of his home made liquor. Adrian gladly accepted another helping as he watched Zart, keeper of the track hos, square off against an eager faced Ben. Laughing and shouting, cheering the victors and razzing the defeated, the feeling of camaraderie and friendly competition grew stronger and stronger as the boys tested themselves, and each other. Standing in a small knot with Newt, Minho, Jeff and Gally, and joined by Alby, talk turned to the future.

"When we get out of here," Minho asserted, gesturing with a half empty jar of booze and refusing to believe any other alternative, "And kick the klunk out of those slintheads who stuck us here, what's the first thing you're going to do? Find out where you came from? Sleep in a real bed? Whoop it up in a real city, surrounded by normal people?"

"God, but I could use a vacation." Jeff stated firmly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck and sipping at the measly half jar of alcohol he'd allowed himself for the evening. "No worries, no stress, no blood. Just...peace. People optional, but mostly just sun and water and lots of good food."

"Pizza." Gally said abruptly, causing a good laugh from those standing with him. "I don't remember klunk about where I came from, don't care about where I'm from, who I was. But I have this haze memory of pizza. Hot and bubbling and cheesy." His eyes went just a bit dreamy, and the other boys thought back to their own dim recollections of the long lost food. "I'm gonna eat a pile of pizza. A mountain. So much I can't move afterwards. Then I'm going to sleep for a full week."

Alby, having had a drink or two himself to loosen him up a bit, snorted.

"Really man? Gorge and nap? That's the best you can do?"

"Well, what about you, Mr-High-And-Mighty, hmmm? What're you gonna do?"

"I want to know where I came from." Alby's voice went quiet, his eyes deep. "We didn't come from nothing, from nowhere. When I'm done kicking ass, I'm going to find out where I came from, who I came from...shuck, I might even have family out there."

Feeling the potential for depression to overtake his friend, Newt piped in cheerfully to break the mood.

"Well, I don't know about you lot, but I'd be more than happy to bang around a nice big city for a while. Y'know, surround myself with a bunch of blokes that can actually hold a civilized conversation for more than five bleedin' minutes-" A chorus of scoffing protests arose over that comment. "and don't smell like rancid feet. Hell, maybe they even know how to use a bloody fork and spoon. You never know. But I'd be more than happy to just lose myself among them and find out."

"Among them, or in them?" Minho quipped, resulting in another round of laughter and Newt's mild blush at the tease. "After all, cities are full of good lookin' strangers-"

"God, I hear that." Adrian sighed wistfully, lighting a new cigarette with the stub of the last and swigging from his third drink of the evening. All eyes turned to him; he rolled his theatrically.

"You can keep your beach, your pizza, your search for origins. If I get out with the rest of you, first thing I'm going for is a companionable stranger. And not that you boys aren't good company, but I don't want to see any of your ugly mugs for at least a week on the outside. I intend to be...otherwise engaged."

Bawdy laughter now as the mildly inebriated boys hassled the man over his choices. Adrian waved them off, insistent.

"It's like an old song I've heard."

Without warning, he belted out that sweet, rich voice into the night.

.

I want a girl with lips like morphine

Knock me out every time they touch me

I wanna feel a kiss just

Crush me

And break meeeeeeee down

.

He lifted his glass high, acknowledging the amusement of his friends and the whistles and cheers from the surrounding boys, grinning cheekily.

"May we all find what we desire on the outside, whenever we make it there. Be it sun and surf, pizza, history or civilization. Or a smokin' number with big blue eyes, a fantastic ass, and great flexibility."

Minho moaned as the others chuckled in amusement.

"Shuck, Adrian, you're killin' me! I'd love to find some curvy little number, dark hair, dark eyes, stupendous assets, legs up to her ears. A lot of free time."

The others hooted and groaned in agreement, their smiles slightly soggy around the edges. The started jabbing at each other with their elbows, naming attributes that got more and more suggestive the longer the conversation carried on. They were animatedly debating when they were interrupted by a particularly loud outburst from the crowd. Turning back toward the ring, they saw a single figure standing in the center, arms flung wide as he turned in slow circles and basked in the attention of the audience.

The boy made a rather intimidating figure, six foot, an easy two hundred fifty pounds of muscle and scars and attitude. His face had a cruel cast to it, and his grin was openly malicious and mocking in the flickering light.

"Who else wants to try me? Who thinks they can take me down!"

"Who is that fine strapping gentleman?" Adrian asked, staring hard as a more moderately sized boy with a bleeding nose was helped to his unsteady feet by a couple of concerned looking gladers.

"His name is Wes." Gally sneered. "Was a builder for a while, but couldn't follow the simplest shucking instructions. Now he works as a slicer, under Winston. Has a fondness for causing pain. Prides himself in the slaughter."

"Oh? Friend of yours, is he?"

Gally curled his lip.

"Creepy sadistic shuck that he is. Not on your life. Even I have standards."

"No one can best me! I am king of the ring!" Wes shouted, boastfully.

Adrian felt a pleasant little tingle of dark pleasure at the idea of dethroning the arrogant asshole currently showboating around, entirely sure of his supremacy. He pitched his voice above the hubbub.

"I'll take that challenge."

A sudden shocked silence fell, and the watching boys moved to clear a path to the ring for the man. Newt caught his arm when he stepped forward.

"Don't." Newt said quietly, urgently. "He'll smear you like a bug."

Adrian only cocked a crooked grin, crushing out the last of his cigarette on the ground and holding out his empty jar.

"Hold my drink, and watch. Shouldn't be long."

He walked into the ring and stood opposite the ugly brute, the wall of watching boys surrounding them closing in an instant. Newt pushed his way to the front, a little sick to his stomach at the thought of what could happen, right in front of his eyes. Adrian rolled to the balls of his feet, leaning forward slightly.

"Count us in, guys. One...two...three!"

Before the crowd finished shouting the word three, the great bear of a boy rushed at Adrian, grabbing his shoulders hard enough to bruise and shoving him towards the edge of the ring. Adrian kept his knees loose, absorbing the force and letting his feet skid through the soft sand, by all appearances not even putting up a fight. Boys scattered out of the way as the pair moved towards them, clearing a gap for the soon to be forcibly ejected man. Less than a foot away from the edge Adrian flew into motion, bringing his arms up from underneath and knocking Wes's hands off of his shoulders, ducking in a blur and planting his shoulder into the brute's gut. With a harsh grunt and a heroic effort, Adrian used the boy's own forward momentum to flip his legs up and over his shoulder, dropping him flat on his back on the hard ground outside the ring. The air brutally knocked out of him, all Wes could do was let out a serious of humiliating squeaks as he struggled for breath. Adrian leaned over and spoke to the gasping, defeated boy, his words perfectly clear in the silence.

"You appear to have fallen, your majesty."

Noise erupted as everyone rushed in to slap Adrian's back, to cheer his cleverness, to praise his strength. Newt elbowed his way up beside the man, a little pale, but smiling.

"I swear, I though he was going to bloody flatten you!"

"The bigger they are," Adrian remarked, ruthlessly casual about the whole thing. "The harder they fall."

He threw his head back and laughed with the rest of them, slinging an arm around Newt's shoulders in a friendly gesture.

"Come on. Let's go see if there's anything left from the feast. I'm starved all over again."

As Adrian and his group departed, two other boys moved forward to help pull the still gasping Wes to his feet. In the dark, no one saw the burning, hateful glare aimed at their departing backs.

.

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While there were still many hours left before dawn, Adrian all but stumbled into his little house, half asleep on his feet as he barred the door. He'd left the rest of the others taking turns on the drums, still going strong. He barely managed to pull off his shirt before he face planted onto his bed, too tired to even groan. He hooked up his music player, already in the twilight world of dozing. It started playing back the song he'd woken to that morning.

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They said all

Teenagers scare

The living shit out of me

They could care less

As long as someone'll bleed

So darken your clothes

Or strike a violent pose

Maybe they'll leave you alone

But not me

.

He grinned sleepily into his pillow before, happily, sinking into the darkness.

.

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Newt waved a half-assed goodnight to his friends as he wandered off into the woods to relieve himself before heading to bed. As he emptied his bladder his slightly tipsy mind wondered if Adrian was still awake, thinking of the invitingly soft couch he'd slept on the night before. Finishing up, he started to meander in the direction of Adrian's cozy home, not really considering the lateness of the hour or paying attention to his surroundings, thinking of the man's jovial mood all evening. Maybe Adrian would even let him curl up in the bed tonight; as nice as the couch was, Newt couldn't remember ever sleeping better than when he had slept beside Adrian. While he was also normally a creature that valued his own personal space, the unprecedented bone deep feeling of safety and security Newt had felt when he slept beside Adrian had become something the boy craved. Feeling uncharacteristically warm and fuzzy, Newt plodded along, thinking happy thoughts.

Without warning, hard hands shot out of the darkness and grabbed Newt roughly by the wrists, the back of the neck, his hips. A wide, calloused palm slapped over his mouth before he could suck in the breath to scream. He felt a strong, careless arm wrap around his waist so tightly it hurt, pulling him back against a wide chest as his wrists were bound with coarse twine and muffled laughter whispered around him. An ugly, familiar voice whispered wetly in his ear, causing him to shiver in disgust.

"Where ya goin, eh? The party's just gettin' started."

.

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Author's note~ The songs in this chapter, in order are Lips Like Morphine by Kill Hannah and Teenagers by My Chemical Romance

The rating will be going up next chapter, just as an fyi. See you there!

~Ruby