This chapter has the underage boy on underage girl hetero scene. I tried to tone it down a bit from what it was, but I thought I should let you guys know it's a'comin' up, just in case.

Although the deliciously violent scenes seem to be dwindling as I keep writing more, this story DOES/WILL contain the following:

1) Delicious Violence.
2) Slight Blood Fetishes.
3) Underage Sex. (THIS INCLUDES: Underage Boy On Underage Girl Rape (Gasp! A hetero scene!), Mentions Of Overage Man On Underage Boy Rape, Underage Boy On Underage Boy Consensual Sex.)
4) Mentions Of Child Abuse.
5)Recollections Of A Suicide.
6) Angst. Lots & Lots Of Angst. I don't think it would be my writing without boatloads of angst.

I hereby admittedly state that I know hardly anything about the technicalities of jail time, the foster care system, or most mental/emotional/attachment disabilities/issues, and that I have made up details about these things for drama and easier writing.

Characters belong to Squeeeeeeeenix.

I think that's about it. I certainly hope this all covers my ass. Cos dammit, I don't want any complaints about anything that I've made sure to mention above.

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(Vincent)

A couple weeks and several panic fits later, I was moved to the Larcom house last night. Mr. and Mrs. Williams said they were sorry, but they just couldn't handle me like they hoped they could. Moving is so emotionally exhaustive. Even with what little I actually own, I'm always very tired afterwards. I think I might be asleep standing up.

"Hey you!" an unfamiliar voice comes from behind me. I don't acknowledge it. "You went to South last semester, didn't you?"

Yes, I did. Then they got rid of me. Apparently, I caused too many disturbances.

The speaker, and his small group of friends, step around in front of me. They're not from my class, but they're obviously a little older. Ninth grade, maybe. Probably have a free period. "Aren't you gonna answer me?"

Ah...nope.

"Yeah, man, I have a friend who goes to South. And his friend said you're the one who tried to fuck his little brother."

Oh. That. Heh. Well...

"Aw, come on, yo. Quit pickin' on him," Reno says. This is the first time since I've been at this school that Reno hasn't had detention and has been able to come to recess.

"Shut up, bitch. That freak tried to fuck a little kid, didn'tcha?" the older boy shoves me and I stumble backwards. "I heard about all the sick shit you threatened to do to his cat if he told."

I said I'd kill it in front of him, and then with its blood I'd--

"Come on, yo. It isn't funny," Reno's ready to brawl.

"No, it's not funny. You're a sick, twisted kid, dude. What the hell is wrong with you?"

It was only a natural curiosity. I had to know why it was so good. I'd always been the one who had to be on the bottom, and I hated it. It hurt like hell. There was obviously something good in it all for whoever was on top. Otherwise, why would I have been put through all of that? I had to understand. And there was a kid who was smaller and younger than me, so I just assumed I could do whatever I wanted with him.

In a series of very unorganized actions, I manage to get this older boy lying flat on the ground, a knee in his ribs, a hand on his face, and his hand between my teeth. Reno and Cid manage to drag me off of the boy, but not before I get a taste of his blood.

The next thing I know, I'm sitting in the principal's office, waiting for Mrs. Larcom to come pick me up. That's fine; I didn't want to be at school anyways.

----

Mr. Larcom is none too happy with me this evening. He's yelling things like "Pay attention, you autistic brat," and "Don't you think you might deserve a little bullying after threatening and seriously inappropriately touching a child?"

First of all, I'm not autistic. This isn't the first time that's been brought up, but I'm just not comfortable with direct eye contact, or responding to ridiculous questions.

Second, you have to realize, this "child" was like two years younger than me. Not even. A year and a half. I could hardly call that much of an age difference. And for the record, as far as I know, his cat's body parts are still intact.

However, I don't think these are the answers Mr. Larcom is looking for, so my mouth stays shut and my eyes stay glued to the carpet.

"What if the school kicks you out? That'll be the second time, right? What are you going to do then?"

They won't, yes, and I don't know.

"Answer me!" he demands. He is much too close to me.

I bite the inside of my cheek hard, and growl, "Get away from me." He's pissing me off with his stupid questions and his goddamn expectations of getting answers and teaching lessons by shoving his shouting face at my own.

"Don't you dare tell me what to do, boy. Answer me!"

I follow through with my immediate impulse to scratch his face and get it the fuck away from mine.

He keeps yelling things, and he grabs me, his fingers are digging into my shoulders. I'm struggling to get free. We're both shouting and making each other angrier. I tell him I'm going to fucking kill him. He says I won't if he kills me first, and tells me to shut the fuck up. The blunt collision of his fist to my face silences us both. After a second, he lets hold of me.

I thought I was supposed to be safe now with these families, but that was all just another lie, wasn't it? Big surprise, that one.

I run to my room to get my bag and find my social worker's telephone number.

Not twenty four hours after moving to this house, I am moved to another one.

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(Cid)

I'm a little surprised to see Vincent at school today. I thought maybe he'd skip class, and I knew the possibility of suspension was pretty high. I'm glad he's here though.

Sometimes I can't help but wonder if he lacks the ability to speak. He hasn't spoken a single word to me in the two months he's been here. I don't think he's ever said anything to anyone at all. I'd really like for him to talk. But I am used to him now. He always follows me around; doesn't stay too close, but not too far either. I kind of like it.

So yes, I'm glad Vincent's here today, but he seems worse than normal. He's been sitting at my-- erm... his desk all day with his head bowed down, his hair hanging in his face, and his hands folded on the table. Hasn't even taken out a notebook or a pencil and the day's almost half over.

I ask Vincent if he's okay on our way to lunch. I don't expect him to answer, and he doesn't; just walks slightly behind me with his head hung low. Nobody says anything other than "hi" to him in the cafeteria. He doesn't eat, either. He usually eats a little bit at least.

After school, we walk across the street, but before he goes right and I go left as we usually do, I ask if he wants to come over to my house for a while. He stands silent for a moment, and instead of answering "yes", he simply turns left and starts walking.

----

Vincent and I sit in a semi-awkward silence in my room. He still didn't want anything to eat. Or rather, he just stood there, looking at the floor, when I offered a snack. I could only assume that meant "no".

I'm watching him without trying to look like I'm watching him. I don't have a head full of long dark hair, like he does, to hide behind. His face is all shadows and I wonder if he can even see.

I move to sit next to him, as usual, not expecting a reaction. "Vincent, I'm kinda worried about you." I reach over because I want to get the hair out of his face. I've barely gotten a good look at him in two months. He immediately grabs my wrist.

"Don't touch me." It's low and threatening and it's not the first sentence I'd hoped to hear out of him, but it's far better than silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." I apologize, but he's still holding on to my wrist. "Hey, Vincent, that kinda hurts a little," I laugh nervously and his grip tightens slightly. My heart jumps as he raises his head. His eyes meet mine in brief flashes of bright red before the lids close back over them and he finally releases my hand.

I wish for a moment that we weren't alone in the house, but my apprehensions are suddenly forgotten, because I finally see what he's been hiding all day. "What happened to you? That kid yesterday. Did he...? No way. He didn't get a punch in," I try to push his hair back so I can better see the darkened bruise that's framing his left eye.

We're back to silence now. Vincent turns his head and lets his hair fall in his face again. No, I can't just leave it at that. "Who hit you?" I sit back and try to keep my hands to myself.

No answer.

"Dad?" But he shakes his head no.

"Brother?" No.

"Uh...sister?" Nope.

"Your mum?" Not that either.

"Did you do it to yourself?" Wrong again.

"Maybe, Vincent, maybe we need to tell somebody about this."

"It's fixed now," is all he tells me, in a much softer, much less angry voice. In fact he doesn't sound angry at all. I want very badly to believe him.

A long time passes, and I don't know what to do. "You shouldn't hide your face like that," I tell him quietly. "I've never seen eyes like yours before. They're... they're very pretty."

"I gotta go," he chokes out and hurries out of the room.

"Wait, Vincent! Your backpack!" I try to catch up with him, but he's already out the door before I make it downstairs.

Well...shit. Maybe Cloud was right when he told me I shouldn't call other boys "pretty".

Back in my bedroom - I know I shouldn't, but it's far too tempting - I open Vincent's backpack. I'm not sure what I'm expecting to find. There's a folder with "Do Not Lose This, Vincent Valentine" written in big red letters on the front. Looks like an adult's handwriting. Inside the folder are a bunch of official looking documents, phone numbers for therapists and a social worker, and one paper that says he was moved to 1239 East Prairie Road on yesterday's date.

I'm a little confused, but a little too impatient to read through all the papers. So I set it down carefully and pull out a couple notebooks. One just has school notes and homework in it. The other is much more interesting. It's damn hard. It's not an easy read, but I sit and read every legible word in the entire notebook.

Awful nightmares. Horribly graphic stories of violent sex and so much murder. It seemed that every word had been written with a venomous hate. I try to convince myself that that isn't blood smeared over several pages. It's...something else. Anything. I will never try to touch Vincent again. Not if it will inspire his fear and anger to add more to these pages.

The last page used says "I hate the possibility of being safe with him. I hate him for being nice. It's going to hurt when he stops trying, but it will be a lot easier when he does. He won't be any different, he'll never understand."

I certainly don't understand, because he hasn't tried to give me anything to understand.

The contents of Vincent's bag are replaced and the zipper is pulled shut. I don't think I'm going to sleep very well tonight.

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(Vincent)

I am in no mood to socialize, but they come in anyway. Katy and Lucy, 12 and 8, the two sisters of this particular family. I suppose I'd find their light brown curls adorable if I just wasn't so damn bitter.

The older one, Katy, starts talking before I can escape. "At school, we've been having Family Life class--"

"The fuck is that?" I snap.

Katy crosses her arms. "Well let me finish, if you please."

"Well I don't," I tell her.

But she goes on. "Family Life class. You know, like, learning about boys and girls and how they grow up and stuff."

Wonderful. What the fuck do you want?

"Well, they've shown us drawings and stuff, but never any actual pictures. So I was wondering, and Lucy's interested too, would you show us your...well, can we see what it looks like?" She points to the front of my pants.

Oh wow. I want to laugh so badly. "What would I get for it?"

"Two dollars, seventy three cents, and we'll show you what we look like too," Katy holds out a dollar bill. Lucy holds out a handful of change and nods in agreement.

"This is all your idea. You won't tell on me, will you?" I ask.

"Nope, nobody'll know," Katy declares. Lucy makes a motion like she's zipping her mouth shut. I collect my payment and drop my pants.

They quietly look for a while. "Can I see what it feels like?" Katy asks.

"Yeah." I'm not intimidated by little girls. They don't scare me like other people can. Both of them reach out at the same time. I give them a few minutes for their hot little fingers to explore. "Lemme see yours now." I've seen plenty of porn with lots of naked girls, but I've never actually had one right in front of me to look at.

Lucy is the first to pull her pants down. I give my dick a couple of good tugs and drop to my knees in front of her. I tell her "Stand wider" so I can have better access and spread her soft little lips apart. I imagine she even tastes soft somehow. I gently give her a swift lick.

She gasps and starts to giggle. "That tickles!" she says.

"Do you like it?" I ask.

"Uh-huh," she nods.

I wouldn't have cared if she'd said no, because I want to know if I can make her come. My tongue goes straight back to teasing her. I feel her start to wobble, so I grab on to her ass to steady her.

"No, wait. I think I have to pee. Stop!" she says. Stop? Never. She can go ahead and pee if she wants. In fact, I'd probably end up liking it. But I'm enjoying this too much to stop. She gasps again as her body starts to shake. "Please stop," she begs as she stills. "It's too much, please." I'm pretty sure she's come, so I'll stop now.

Katy has been watching, wide-eyed and intently. "Is it my turn now?" she asks excitedly.

"Yes. Lay down," I instruct, squeezing a drop of precum from my dick and rubbing it around the head. I want to come so badly, but I know it will feel even better if I wait a while longer.

Katy lays on her back and spreads her legs for me, smart girl. She's already wet from watching me with her sister. She comes after only a few minutes, dripping her girly cum, with breathy moans of "Ah! Oh, oh..."

I move up to be face to face with Katy and reach my hand under her shirt, teasing her through her training bra. I've given them more than they'd asked of me; now I want the favour returned. "Wanna fuck?" I ask. It's been a couple of years since I've done this. I'm sure it'll be a lot easier now that I've grown some.

"Will it hurt?" asks Katy.

It won't hurt me. Not if I'm the one in charge of it. That's all I care about. "I dunno," I tell her. I don't give her a chance to respond though, just go ahead and push my way into her. It wouldn't bother me in the least if she didn't want to. Someone already had their way with me, and it didn't matter what I wanted. How could it be fair if I wasn't able to have my way with somebody else now?

It feels really good, fucking her as hard as I can; I so want to come, but it's not happening fast enough.

"I want a turn," Lucy insists. That's cool. I'm fine with that. Very fine with it. I like the way her skin feels. It's much softer. And her body's much smaller, too. So I lay on my back and tell Lucy to get on her knees on top of me. I'm still slick from her sister, but there's still a bit of resistance when I help her slide down onto me. "Fuck, good girl..." God, she's tight. This isn't going to take much longer.

My hands are on her hips, guiding her to bounce up and down. "I'm not big enough," she whines, "It's hurting me."

"I'll make you come again when I'm done," I bargain. "Don't make me stop, baby, you're so good. So good..." The protesting stops, but she gives me a soft, pathetic mewl with every thrust into her. I think I love her.

I think she's going to cry. She bites her bottom lip so she can try to hold the tears back, but it doesn't work. The tears fall and she chokes back a quiet sob. I do, I love this girl.

I watch her sad little face as she makes me come. I love her, and I want her to be my little doll forever.

With a few last thrusts, slow and deep, I'm unwillingly willing to stop fucking her. "Don't cry," I lift her up and pull her forward to kiss her lips and make her rest her head on my chest. I use the words that were used on me. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?"

She gives me no answer, so I try to snake my hand down underneath her. "How about I make you come again? I can kiss it all better." But she tells me she doesn't want it; she's too sore down there. So I just hold her tightly as another sob shakes through her. I'll play nice now. I'll smile and comfort her and wipe the tears from her sweet face and make her trust me once more so we can do this all over again tomorrow.

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(Cid)

"Here, Vincent, you left your backpack at my house yesterday," I set it on the floor next to his desk, but he doesn't seem to care. "Are you doin' alright today?" I can't let myself come off as nervous and I can't let anything I read last night slip out. But I want to talk about it! I want to know more about him.

"I'm, uh, I'm sorry. About what I said yesterday. I shouldn't'a said it." Beautifully done, Cid. "I mean, it's true though. I meant what I said, but I didn't want to freak you out or anything, and I'm really sorry." Okay, a decent attempt to save yourself. "You don't have to say anything, but could you lemme know whether or not you forgive me? Either way is fine, but I need to know how bad I fucked up."

So I wait. For anything at all. And it comes! So quietly, but I can hear it. "It's alright, Cid."

He talks to me again! And it seems he only speaks in threes. But that's okay, because he actually said something.

----

"Lemme see it!" Cloud says as he grins stupidly at Vincent. I kick Cloud, and I kick him hard. The idiot wasn't supposed to let on that I told him about Vincent's black eye. "Ow! Cid, don't kick me!"

I could be mistaken, but I think there might be the slightest hint of something vaguely resembling a smile on Vincent's face. So I do it again.

"OW! CID! Stop kicking me! I'm sorry!" Cloud tries to scoot away from me. I look over to see if I have Vincent's approval. Sure enough, he's laughing quietly, which makes me wanna laugh too.

"What did you want to see?" Aeris asks.

Cloud responds without thinking. "Vincent got a black eye the other OW! CID!"

"Ooh! Lemme see!" Reno reaches across the table, presumably to get Vincent's hair out of his face.

"Don't!" I swat his hand away. "Reno, just leave him alone. Poor guy's got enough trouble gettin' black eyes from ninth grade jackasses. He doesn't need you all gawkin' at him."

"Alright, man, sorry," Reno sits back down. "But wait, yo. That kid didn't punch Vince, did he?"

"Yeah he did," I insist.

"You sure, yo? I didn't see it."

"Just cos you didn't see it, doesn't mean it didn't happen. I saw it. What, do you think he actually got into another fight on the way home or something? Seriously, Reno." I hope I'm doing a good enough job covering for Mr. Tall, Dark, and Silent over there.

"Okay, that's fine, yo. I believe ya. Just don't kick me too," Reno backs off. "Shit! Man, I told you not to kick!"

"I didn't," I say honestly, glancing over at Vincent. Our eyes catch each other for a moment. He looks away from me, but his smile's back.

----

"I'm sorry about what happened with Cloud." I find myself apologizing to Vincent for the second time today. "I promise I didn't tell him any details about it though."

We make it across the street where we go our separate ways before Vincent says it again. "It's alright, Cid."

I'm sure I'm grinning from ear to ear. It's my favourite thing in the world, to hear him say those three words to me.

"Do you wanna come over today? We can try it again," I ask him.

"Doctor," is all he says.

"Well then, how 'bout tomorrow? Or am I just pushing my luck?"

"Tomorrow," he nods, and heads off to the right.

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Vinny's a mean little bastard...

TBC, yo!