Chapter Music: When Anger Shows by Editors

Rust on the Lock.

Chapter 5.

Thoughts I Must Not Think Of.

Lex missed school yesterday, and he is going to miss it again today. Patched up and aching, the poor lad has been lying in bed all day in his pjs, feeling downright miserable for himself. He can't shake off what happened to him two nights ago... and Maxi. That tiny, smiley kid, with a cherub face and a soft personality to match the pleasant texture of his hair... He's a monster; a blood-sucking, sharp-fanged, murdering monster... who just so happened to have saved his life.

Last night, Lex woke up screaming, his own hand clutched around his neck. He told Lexaeus that he just had a weird, creepy dream and he was on edge, but he know that the dream was about vampires after his flesh and blood.

Paranoia?

Maybe fear?

"Lex?" Lexaeus opens the bedroom door and steps inside. He frowns when Lex just stays still and doesn't look around to look at him. The boy just stays staring at the wall, quite and unmovable. The man walks to his side. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

"…I'm fine."

"Do you want some breakfast?" Playing father, Lexaeus places his hand on the boy's crown, running his fingers carefully through his soft curls. "I can make you toast, or scrambled eggs… or whatever you like."

Lex shakes his head, still staring into space. "I'm not hungry, thank you." Lexaeus' warm hand stills in his hair, tangled in his tresses. The boy sighs, closing his eyes. "This is not your fault, Dad."

"…I'm just worried about you" Lexaeus mumbles, whispers, hand starting to move again, slower. "You were so shook up and upset… I haven't see you cry like that since your mother died, and you were so young back then… cute too." The man smiles a little. "You're still a cute kid, Lex." The boy doesn't move. He just sits there, pretending that he isn't blushing as his dad continued. "I know you are no longer a little child, but I still get worried over you, and you really worried me when you walked in all teary and bruised… Am I being lame?"

Lex collapses into a smile, shaking his head. "Yes. You are lame. Very lame. You're the most lamest dad ever." He shifts his weight and looks up at Lexaeus. "Never stop being lame please."

Lexaeus laughs. "You cheeky monkey." He gives the boy a tickle under the armpit, making him worm and laugh uncontrollably. "Are you sure there isn't anything you want?"

"I-I'm sure." Lex calms down, a smirk still across his mouth. He stops and thinks for a moment, and grabs the sleeve of his dad's shirt before he could stand up. "Actually. Dad. Could you read me a story?"

Lexaeus blinks. "Read you a story?"

"Yeah. Like when I was little." There is awkwardness between them. Lex stopped asking for stories when he was eight, and Lexaeus had missed those times dreadfully. He missed Lex begging for one more chapter, and watching him fall asleep in his arms. Listening him mumble nonsense, have a small hand curl into his shirt…

"Sure. I'll read to you. What book do you want?"

"I don't care. Any. As long as you read."

"Um." Lexaeus looks around, sucking air through his teeth as he searched. After a moment, he picks up a novel from the nightstand, a bookmark's ribbon hanging from the pages. "What about this one?"

Lex looked at the cover and shuddered: Interview with the Vampire. He had forgotten he was reading that a number of nights ago. He didn't pay anything in his room any attention since he came back beaten.

He curled his legs up against his chest. "Okay. If you want."

Lexaeus smiled, and sat down gingerly next to the boy on the bed, and turned to the marked pages, pulling his spectacles from his breast pocket. Lex rested his head against his dad's chest, and looks at the page, but the words just blurred together without his glasses into a grey, hazy cloud, and he just listened while the elder spoke.

"'The vampire stopped. The boy said nothing. 'A child vampire!' he whispered finally…'"

Lex's stomach twisted. The book means Claudia, a fictional girl with perfect curls and fine frocks and a womanly air, but he can only picture Maxi, a real boy, with his raggedy jeans and cow-licked hair and his black eye and childish way of speaking.

Both kill to live, live to kill.

"'He'd done this to the little girl just to keep you with him?' asked the boy. 'That is difficult to say. It was a statement. I'm convinced Lestat was a person who preferred not to think or talk about his motives and beliefs, even to himself. One of those people who must act. Such a person must be pushed considerably before he will open up and confess that there is method and thought to the way he lives…"

Lex closes his eyes, and decides, yes, Maxi is like Claudia, but he can't make up his mind about one thing: is Mr. Read a Louis or a Lestat?

OOO

"-The police have reported that no significant progress has been made in the cases, and they are still requesting members of the public with any information to come forward-"

Sighing, Zexion finishes wiping off the cups, and his knife off with his yellow sponge, and places them on the draining board. He bought the radio to keep up with the news, but it gets very depressing if you are always in the headlines for bad reasons. He sits down at the table, swiping his hands dry on his trouser legs.

"Please shut up about it. Please. I'm sorry already."

"In other news, it's been reported that the Shin-Ra main headquarters was broken into two nights ago by an unidentified party. It's believed people managed to get through a small opening in the fence surrounding the building, and got onto the roof. Nothing was stolen, although the fire escape door on roof level was seriously broken. Now the weather-"

Zexion turns the knob to the "off" position. He feels sick. Hungry. He places a hand over his stomach and presses inwards, feeling his engorged, swollen gut sticking out. He didn't like it when he got a small potbelly. It wasn't fat. It was his stomach reacting to malnourishment, but he thinks that he wouldn't get costumers if he looked fat in anyway.

Beauty was slim. Skin and bone, with a perked bum, and tummies are cute. Not sexy.

He decides a bath might make him feel better. To be submerged under the water, and pretend to be blind, deaf and dumb for a while would make him feel better, and he hadn't had a wash in a while. He was starting to smell a bit like a butcher's apron.

He walked into the bathroom, and kept the lights off. The sun wasn't up yet, and he still had two hours until it did. He turned the cold tap all the way around, and he jump when he felt the breeze caress his cheek.

The window is open.

Zexion arches a brow. He doesn't remember having that window open. He walks over and pushed the window down harshly. It sticks to the sides, so it must have been open for a while and the damp made it rusty.

Then he sees the sink.

The basin is full of clouded, still water, with a shadow sitting in the bottom, blocking the drain. Curious, Zexion reaches in and pulls cloth from the deep. The drain burps and gurgles up all the water greedily, and Zexion is left with a small shirt, drenched through. He twisted it over the sink, and it seems like a gallon of water spills out.

Then he sees the dirt.

The smears of mud and dry spots of blood, here, there and everywhere. Zexion panics, becomes enraged, betrayed.

"That little moron!"

He runs from the bathroom and into the bedroom, and goes straight to the bed. "Maximus Ienzo Zexion Read!" Before his son can even come around from his sleep, he rips the covers from the bed and throws them to the ground. Maxi curls up even tighter in his little hedgehog ball position, whining and blinking away the haze from his sight.

"Pa?" He looks over to the bedside clock, ticking away the seconds. "It's ten in the morning."

"What did you do!"

"Huh?"

Zexion tosses the shirt in the boy's direction, obviously enraged. "This is yours, I believe. I found it in the bathroom sink."

It takes a moment for Maxi to think it through, but when he picks up the cloth and sees the red splatter, his eyes widen, large as dinner plates. "…Oh gods."

"What did you do?"

"Papa, I'm sorry-"

"What did you do!"

Maxi flinches. He doesn't like it when Zexion gets mad. He looks scary, and his eyes turn dark as black and his hands curl into shuddering fists ready to crunch. "…I didn't kill a human."

"What did you kill then?"

"A fox." That wasn't a total lie: Alexa's surname is Fox, after all. Zexion rips the shirt from the child's hands, and he waves it about in front of his face as he rants and hisses.

"I thought I told you to stay inside!" he bellows. "Someone could have seen you! It's too risky to have you running around the place causing havoc. Why do you do this all the time-"

"I do not!" Maxi snaps back. He is getting cranky, being woke up and shouted at the morning hours. "It's not like I get into trouble on purpose."

"But you do so anyway. You always, always get into trouble!" Zexion starts to move his feet in a odd fashion, acting like he is going to start pacing, then doesn't and draws his foot back two steps, looking around at the ground. "Odin, give me strength. How often do you go outside?"

"…Honestly?" Maxi asks. "Every night."

The man nearly has a heart attack. "Every night! You jump through that window every night? Why? Someone could see you!"

"I feel claustrophobic in here. I needed to breath. I wanted to go out and play in the snow, and actually feel like a kid again. You can't keep me locked up like a animal!"

"You think I like keeping you in here?" Zexion looks furious now. "I'm not the enemy here, Maximus."

"Could have fooled me!"

A open hand slaps Maxi on his left cheek, sharp like a snow ball. He falls back onto the mattress and stares wide-eyed up at his father. He hardly ever gets a slap. He can't even remembered the last time Zexion slapped him, it was that long ago since.

Zexion looks like he is going to fall to pieces, shuddering and turning to a sickly pale grey. It's as if he can't believe what he just did.

"This is all for you, you know?" he whimpers, as he can only just manage to force himself to speak, but as he talks, he gets louder and louder again. "All this moving and hiding and all the other shit I have to put up with. Do you think I like killing young girls? Do you like I like dirty old men touching me? Because I don't, but I'm letting this happen to me anyway so you can eat and have a place to sleep! All of this crap that is happening to me for your benefit! Not mine!"

"…Your eyes are bleeding."

Zexion blinks, then brings his hand up to his face, resting the thumb and index fingers lightly over his eyes. He didn't even realise that his vision had turned red. He wipes his tears away and takes a shaking breath in, fixing up his hair.

"…I going to have a bath," he mumbles, voice a mere rasp from shouting. "I didn't mean to…" He stops mid-sentence, and sighs, deciding that it was best to leave the room and calm down. He went into the bathroom, finished running the bath, took off his pyjamas, and got in. He used his hands like a cup and splashed his face clean. The diluted blood trickled down face, but it still feels like it was still there. It makes him feel unclean and he starts to rub his eyes, at his eyelashes where the blood normally clots. He rubs harder and harder until it hurt, and he still rubbed hard. He didn't want to stop until he felt clean again, pure again-

"Papa."

A pair of tiny hands grab his wrists and yanks them down. Zexion's renters have turned just as red as his tears, and there are spots dancing in his vision. Maxi shakes his head. "You shouldn't do that, Pa… Are you okay?"

The man nods his head. "Yes, I'm fine." He drops his hands into the water and clears them of the muck. "I just got a bit carried away." He looks up at the kid and smiles weakly. "Your hair is greasy. Hop in and I'll clean it."

Maxi doesn't hesitate. He pulls off his clothes and climbs into the tub, back to Zexion and head tilted back. His father grabs the large cup from the side and scoops up some water, pouring it over Maxi's locks. His hair turns two shades darker from the water.

"…You can go out and play."

Maxi whips around in surprise, splattering water everywhere from the tips of his hair. "What?"

"You're right," Zexion says, calm and quiet. "I can't keep you cooped up in here all the time. So, when I'm out, you can go play in the playground out front."

"Really!" Maxi is thrilled, clapping his hands together with a wet slap. "You are going to let me out?"

"As long as you behave yourself" Zexion quickly adds. "And don't talk to anyone. And you must stop going through the window."

"I will. Pinky swear." The lad holds out his hand, his little finger wiggling. Zexion wraps his own finger around it, and they shake on it.

Keep it or your finger gets chop off.

OOO

Lex has been looking for handgun bullets for ages, pressing the select button again and again next to everything. This game is so mean at times. Poor Heather only gets a handful of health drinks and ammo at any time, and now she is in the Otherworld again, she really needs them. Melee weapons are no good against larger monsters.

There is a knock at his bedroom door.

"Come in."

Lexaeus takes a step inside, and switches on the ceiling light, making Lex jump and blink. "Dexter's here, Lex. Do you want me to send him in?"

"Just a sec." Artfully, Lex helps Heather dodge a Closer, escape into a safe room, finds a Halo of the Sun seal on a mirror, and saves his game. "Okay."

Dexter comes bounding in, his hands full of photocopy paper and his mouth bended into the friendly Rivers grin. He is still in his school uniform, the tie gone from around his neck and his shirt un-tucked, as per usual. "Dude, you missed making Christmas decorations in art today, and Lulu let us watch Home Alone in tutorial. Oh, I got all of the worksheets you missed." He lets the stack of work fall and flop onto the bedside table. "How you feeling?"

"Not bad" Lex shrugs.

"Are you staying for tea, Dexter?" Lexaeus asks.

"Yes, please!"

"Right. I'll call you two when it's ready."

The man leaves the boys alone. Lex picks up a few of the sheets and thumbs through them lazily. Double chemistry and maths, with extra space for workings-out. Best Christmas present ever. Dexter looks around the bed, finding boxes upon boxes of video games across the mattresses.

"Have you just been sat in here playing games all day?"

"Nothing else to do but play through my backlog of games," Lex says quietly. "I can't do much else."

"What about reading?"

"I kept reading the same lines over and over again. Games kept my mind working without torturing it."

"Hmm." Dexter kicks his shoes off and pulls his legs off onto the bed, tucking his feet under himself. He looks over to Lex, frowning. "Actually, we, like me and the other guys, want to know when you are coming back to school."

Lex frowns too, but he only shrugs in response. "I don't know. I still feel like crap. I can only just manage to drag myself out of the bed to have a pee."

"…What happened to you?"

"I talked about it to Xen on the phone. Didn't she tell you?"

"Yeah but, mate, you look terrible. Seriously, two thugs did this to you?"

Lex sighs, and pulls his duvet tighter around his body, a sudden chill crawling along his spine. "…Dex. Do you believe that people who act evil can actually be good?"

The other boy blinks. "Huh?"

Lex scratches his hair. "I mean, if something is seen as bad or terrible, does it still count if the person who does it has no choice but to do it?"

Dexter still looks confused beyond reason. "…Like?"

"Like, um… you know the story of Cecil Harvey, right?"

"Everyone knows that story, Lex. That legend has been around for centuries."

"Well, Cecil Harvey destroyed the village of Mist, but he didn't mean to. The act was bad, but he was just following the king's orders."

"Yeah, but…" Dexter furrows his brow, thinking hard. "Cecil didn't know that the package was a bomb… right? If he did know, that would be seen as a good person doing a bad thing. But he didn't , so it the badness was force upon him… What the hell were you asking again?"

Lex sighs and makes himself smile. Just slightly, but noticeably. "Doesn't matter. Isolation is making me nuts. Let's not talk about it anymore." He picks up a game box. "Want to play Castlevania?"

OOO

When he dropped Dexter home, Lexaeus spent a good fifteen minutes talking to Mrs. Rivers. It felt more like soothing her, telling her that she shouldn't really worry about all this murdering and kidnapping business, especially since the targets seem to be women, and all her children are male.

She was not worried, she said, but she felt unsure about it all, a little more uneasy walking outside at night then before. Lexaeus soon left after Zell lead his mother upstairs, telling Hayner and Dexter to bugger off to bed, and Demyx saw Lexaeus to the door, wishing him a goodnight.

"Sorry about mum… Never been quite the same since dad left."

Ran away from a slight problem in their marriage seems more like it, but Lexaeus kept his mouth shut, smiling.

When he lined up the car back in its place in the complex car park, Lexaeus stayed in the driver's seat, motor running to keep the heater going. The radio was off, and his breath was thick and white in the chilled air.

Tomorrow, he will go to the police station, and ask Squall to find the kids who attacked Lex. It would be hard, since they couldn't be identified, but Squall was a good kid and would try to help. Of course he would.

Lexaeus only knows good children.

Naughty children. Moody children. Yet always good and never bad.

He turned off the engine, the heater and lights dead in a flash, and he steps out of the car. He locks up and looks around. Everything is illuminated by the streetlamp around the paths. The cars, the playground, the Zexion on the opposite path-

"Zexion?" Lexaeus takes a second look, and it is indeed the boy on the path, a bag on his back, walking shiftily away from his building, towards the road leading to town. "Zexion, wait." The elder half-sprints across the ground after him. The boy seems to quicken his pace. "Zexion, wait a moment-"

"What!" Zexion turns around sharply, barking. Lexaeus nearly falls backwards. The kid looks tired and irritable, shadows cupping underneath his eyes, skin greyish in his light. (Still pretty, however, in a way.)

Lexaeus has a feeling he wasn't forgotten about the questioning thing yet.

"…I just wanted to ask if you are alright?"

Zexion doesn't look impressed. "…I'm fine. Peachy. Tip-top-happy. Bye." And he turns away again, walks away.

Lexaeus calls after him. "Aren't you going to ask about me in return?"

"Nope. Bye."

"Zexion, look. I'm sorry about accusing you. Alright?"

"Alright? Alright?" The boy finally stops, and turns around again. "Not only did you accuse me of breaking the law, you accused me of being an unfit parent and a uncaring bastard toward my own child. And you're telling me it's alright now you said sorry. Words mean nothing."

Lexaeus sighs and rubs the back of his neck. "No. You're right. Just saying sorry is not going to cut it. I wouldn't have intervened without evidence."

"Hell right."

"Zexion, this isn't really the time of year to be hostile."

"Fine then. Merry Christmas. Now fuck off."

"Zexion." Lexaeus sighs and runs his hand through his brunet curls, thinking quickly. "…Do you still want that drink? We can talk about this."

The young man suddenly stops and Lexaeus stops to, almost falling over his feet in surprise. Zexion doesn't say anything for a long time, or maybe it just felt like a long time, until he turned his head a touch. Just his head, and he still doesn't look up at Lexaeus. Just at a unimportant spot on the ground, in the snow.

"You still offer me a drink, even when I'm being like this?"

Lexaeus smiles a touch. The boy is finally softening. "I don't want to be enemies with you. Our sons, I've seen them playing together and I don't want this to ruin the little friendship they have going on."

Zexion whips around, eyes big and round like dinner plates, before it changed, melted into an expression of understand. As if he had understood something. Lexaeus hope he was understanding that this fighting was wrong. The boy turns around, and embraces himself. "…I guess I can come over tomorrow… I'm not much of a drinker."

"We are well stocked" the old man insists. "We don't have to have alcohol. I can brew up tea, or coffee, anything to fancy. I'll fix some food up as well. Don't worry about it."

Zexion fidgeted around a little, fitting up his coat a little, then accidentally messing it up again from fussing with it too much. He looks at the ground as he speaks.

"I'll come around at seven, if I may. I will be busy until then, so I guess I would have to."

"Um. Sure. Come over when ever." Lexaeus is sure Zexion smiles a touch for a second, only a second, before turning on his heel and walking quickly and steadily, around the corner onto the street and out of sight as slick as a cat. "…Zexion, wait a second."

When Lexaeus looks around the corner, the boy is gone. He is not even a small shadowy figure down the road in the fog under the street lights.

Lexaeus stands there for a moment, looking around, up and down for a sign of Zexion somewhere in the cloudy air, but he sees nothing, and the cold gets the better of him.

He goes inside before his gunshot knee acts up again.

OOO

There was no "official" red-light district in Midgar, but there was an area people knew to be the right place to find that sort of thing (if that is, of course, what you are looking for.)

It was common knowledge to local perverts that in the more run-down the part of town is, the more likely they would find more working-girls, pretty and cheap. For those with a more particular taste for younger company, however, it had to be arranged beforehand. Underage prostitutions are more risky, and more taboo, so the word of where to get them doesn't spread as far; but if you know where to look, it is quite easy.

Under the dimly-lit streetlight stands a man, possibly in his late thirties, blond hair cut short, beard neatly trimmed and shaped. He is dress in casual smarts, like a business man, many pierces in his ears. In his right hand, he slowly palms a old gold coin, created before modern munny mint was issued. He is getting impatient. The man that was meant to be meeting up with him is late, and it was the bloke that insisted of such a late time.

Then, from down the road, a batten-up car comes rolling down, a headlight cracked.

Smiling, the blond man puts his coin into his trouser pocket, and watches as the banger pulls up a few yards away from him.

Show time.

The man that steps out of the car is a little overweight, balding, with a layer of cold sweat on the brow. First time nerves maybe? Fears of getting caught? There are a few possibilities to his shifty eyes, the dampness on his hand as they shake hands, but doesn't matter now.

"Sorry I'm late, Mr. Gamble."

"It's fine."

"My boss kept me behind and-"

"My friend! The night is still young." Mr. Gamble waves his hand to dismiss the apologue, grinning. "We have nothing to fear here. Now, would you like to meet my wears?"

"Um. Yes. Please. Soon."

"Now." The blond turns a few degrees, pointing down the street behind him. Sat on a bench with peeling paint, there are two young girls no older then twelve. There is a blonde, hair wild and full of static, wrapped up in jeans, brown leather boots, and a woollen poncho. The other has pink curls, dressed in a summer dress, purple tights, Mary-Jane's, and a white puffy winter coat. They were just talking, like they were in a park during a lunch break from school. "What takes your fancy?"

The fat man looks, licking his dry lips, than his eyes flicker towards Mr. Gamble, only briefly.

"I heard you had three girls" the pervert says, cocking a brow. "I heard of a redhead."

"Ah, my little red! She's… not well tonight, I'm afraid to say," Mr. Gamble sighs. "Poor lamb is frightfully ill, so I allowed her to stay at home. Nonetheless, my friend, these other lasses are just as well-kempt and pretty, yes? You may still take your pick from these two."

The customer casts an eye over the girls on the bench. He must admit, as far as under-aged girls go, they are quite pretty. After a moment's hesitation and fantasy, the pervert makes up his mind.

"The pink-haired girl."

"Are you sure?"

A cold hand presses crumpled munny into Mr. Gamble's palm, answering his question. Gamble chuckles softly, pockets the cash, and walks on over the girls. He talks quietly to them, takes the pink-haired gal's hand, and leads her back down the street. The blonde is left to play with the fraying fringe of her poncho.

"Now, you will be a good girl, won't you?" Mr. Gamble smiles, squeezing her hand as he turns back to the costumer. "She is a very well behaved little thing, but you must promise to look after her. You have two hours with her. No longer."

"I promise to look after her."

"You must. She is one of my angels."

"I understand."

Nothing else is said. Mr. Gamble hands the girl on over to the bald man, who leads her over to the car. He gets into the driver's seat, and she in the passenger side. After a few false starts, the car finally grumbles into life, and roll on down the road.

There is a heavy silence. The man glances ever now and again towards the girl. She is just staring out of the window, expression blank.

The girl is lovely, with naturally curly, layered hair in a light shade of lavender pink, with matching freckles splashed along her pale cheeks, under a pair of dark, sapphire irises. He guessed he had a thing for feminine girls. He wasn't sure.

The girl shifts around a little, and he watches her slip her coat off her shoulders, revealing the swell of young breasts under her dress. Not overly big, but obvious, above average. The man swallows and turns his attention back to the road.

"Are you too warm?"

"I'm fine" the girl shrugs. "I prefer the cold."

"Umm." The man looks around, uneasy, trying to find something to talk about. "I mean, it can't be that good for you, wearing a dress like that in the snow. You'll catch a cold or something."

"I'll be fine." The girl lolls her head slightly to the side, looking up at him with those dark eyes, never giving away what she's thinking. "Have you done this before?"

The man can feel his hands getting clammy with sweat again, his shirt sticking to his hairy back. "Once. Sort of. It was a group thing really. A couple of girls came in and sucked us off, made out with each other. They looked a little slutty for my liking…" He preferred the innocent-looking. Once that still looked untouched, never deflowered, and the way the girl sat there, all primed and proper, coat folded on her lap neatly, she was an icon of virginity. "Anyway, let's not talk about that… what's your name anyway?"

The girl still isn't smiling. "Xanthe Bracken."

"Xanthe?" The perv smiles a little. "That's a pretty name. Latin, is it?"

"Greek."

"More or less the same thing, isn't it? …Have you done this before?"

"Yes. Of course," Xanthe answers.

"Oh. Yeah. Stupid question… Do you like it?"

"It puts food in the mouth." Such a mature way of speaking, and that only adds to her charm. They had entered the woods some time ago, going down a dirt track. "Does your family know where you are?" she asks. "Your wife?"

"I'm divorced. Thank the Gods."

"Your children?"

"I have a son… Much older then you, and moved out already… But I would have loved a little girl though. I would spoil her rotten…"

The silence returns. Xanthe plays with her skirt line between her fingers in a inpatient manner. "Am I expected to do anything special?"

"No, no. You just…" The man pause for a moment, and turns the car into a clearing, down on a lake bank. He kills off the engine. "You just do what you feel comfortable with, pet."

"Okay." Without a second of thought, Xanthe reaches out, and slowly pulled the man's hand towards her, making it cup around her kneecap. He licks his lips, and his hand travels, creeps up her thigh, like a fat, fuzzy spider, looking for a warm place to hide in.

As his hand disappears under her skirt, to try and find the elastic of her tights, his skin meets something cold. Something cold and hard, with the texture of leather, topped with metal.

He throws the light-coloured material out of the way. In a black sheath secured around her leg lays an antique dagger, silver and shining like new. A shiver passes down the pervert's spine, a feeling of ill and panic. Xanthe giggles and he looks.

She has finally cracked a smile. It is the most frightening scene that man has ever seen (and the last).

OOO

His books have become a chore to read, his games repetitive, so Lex just lays there on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. It is a whitish colour that goes with his dark blue papered walls, which had rips and tires from over the years.

The boy was tired, but he was restless too, suffering in bedtime limbo. Thoughts were buzzing around his head, and everyone of them left him uneasy.

Maxi left him uneasy.

Lex sits up with a groan, covering his face with both hands. Why must his thoughts always return to Maxi, good or bad? The boy had become a pox on his mind, a scar left behind. The boy didn't know what to do anymore.

Sighing, he takes the box of sleeping pills from his bedside table. His dad have given them to him, to help him sleep at night. He was told to only take one each night. Two would knock him out.

With fumbling hands, Lex pops a pill out of the plastic tray, and swallows it down with a gulp from his glass of water. It would take a while for it to kick in, but at least Lex would be in deep slumber, free from dreaming, from thoughts.

With nothing else to do, Lex strips out of his five-day-worn pyjamas, and changes into a clean pair of sleeping trousers, minus the shirt. He feels warm, boiling in fact. He switches off the light, and crawls under his covers, keeping one foot sticking out in the open air.

And all is quiet for a while, and Lex even starts to drift off, eye getting heavy and fluttering close…

Tap-tap

Eyes open.

Tap-tap-tap

A shiver crawls down Lex's spine. He knows he shouldn't… but he sits up anyway, and almost screams, but whimpers instead, at the figure in his window.

Maxi is at his window, hands and nose pressed against the pane of glass, smiling at him, as if he had been waiting for him all day for his return.

How the hell did he- they are six floors off the ground, with no fire ladders and nearby drainpipes outside that window.

Did... Maxi… jump up?

Well, if he did it two nights ago, he can do it again.

The little boy in the window says something, mouthing the words carefully so Lex can read them, knowing that he can't hear him through the glass.

"Can I come in?"

Lex pulls the covers against his chest, a cold sweat forming on his forehead. It's too late to pretend that he didn't notice him. They are staring eye-to-eye through the frosty glass, and Maxi is smiling at him. Not a creepy, hungry smile. A friendly, sweet smile. The boy in the bed bites down on his lip, thinking. He read, in a few of his books, that vamps can't enter the homes of humans without being invited. He sighs.

"…You can come in."

Something shifts, and Maxi opens the window. Lex can't remember if he left it open or not. Maybe he did, on the off-chance that Maxi may appear, without realising it himself?

Crazy.

The vampire is barefooted again, and he brings in a cold chill with him. He closes the window behind him, politely, carefully, and soundlessly, before walking over to the bed, giving Lex a smile.

"I was worried about you," he says. "Are you okay?"

"I've been better," Lex answers honestly. "Still feeling off… You look like you've been having fun." Maxi's hair is messier than ever before, sticking to his brow in strips, eyes wide like that of a junkie. His clothing is ruffled and wrinkled. A drop of water clings to his nose. He looks a right state, and Lex can't help smiling a little. "Come here." Maxi obeys, clambering onto the bed. Lex places a hand on the vampire's head. "You're damp." He slides his hand down Maxi's cheek, and down onto his chest. His woollen jumper is no better, covered in tiny wet droplets and flakes of snow. "What the heck have you been doing?"

"Playing in the snow," Maxi grins. "Papa said I can, and as long as I don't annoy people and don't talk to anyone."

"Where is your dad?" Lex asks. He rubs the palms of his hands up and down the child's arms, to try and warm him up a touch. "You wouldn't come up here if he was home." That was a statement of fact, not a question. Maxi frowns slightly, and glances off to the side.

"…He went to get food."

Lex's hands pause halfway up. "Please tell me he isn't going to kill someone again."

"No." Maxi looks back. "it's too risky at the moment. He's going to get animal blood."

Lex breaths a sigh of relieve, but he doesn't know why. "I don't see why you can't get animal blood all the time."

"It just doesn't work like that." The vampire brushes some melt water off his nose. "Animal doesn't have the same effect on us as human. We don't get enough of what we need from the blood of animals."

"Oh. I see."

Really, Lex doesn't see. Doesn't eating more animals solve the problem? He doesn't question it. He just starts with rubbing down Maxi's arms again. "You're so cold."

"I know… Do you think I can stay here tonight? I don't like being on my own."

Lex's eyes widen. "What about my dad?"

"I'll keep quiet," the little one promises, "and I have to leave before sunrise anyway, and I'll let you sleep. Please, Lex."

"…I don't know," Lex mumbles. "I mean, you're all wet. You're not staying in my bed in wet clothes."

"Oh?" Maxi tugs at the heavy material of his jumper. It smells of wet dog and the brisk ait. "I guess you have a point. Alright then" Then he starts to undress.

Realising Maxi is pulling his clothes off, Lex turns crimson red and closes his eyes, unsure where to look. "Maxi, put your clothes back on!"

"Why?"

"I can't share a bed with you when you are naked!"

There is a noise, a flump of heavy fabric hitting the carpeted floor. "I'm not naked. I'm in my underwear. And we are both boys, so what is the problem?"

He has a point.

Swallowing his nerves, Lex takes his hands away from his face, and tries to look at Maxi in the face, eye to eye… but he finds himself unable to do so. His eyes drift down, towards the lad's bare chest, and finds mares and marks there, all over. All of them are old and healed over, ranging from light and barely there like the playful scratches of kitty-cats, to deep and large like someone has played knife games, and his stomach was the tabletop.

Lex feels… Well, he doesn't know how he feels. He hasn't been like this since he first noticed Maxi's bruised eyes, which still hasn't faded away and still stands chills down spines. Who could have done this to him, a child? Was it his father? Someone else? Slowly, voice shaking, Lex reaches out to touch the flesh before him. "What happened-"

"Lex!"

Both boys jump together, and look towards the bedroom door, to the voice coming up the hallway. "Lex, are you okay? Who are talking to?"

"Hide!" Hurriedly, Lex pulls the covers over Maxi's body, and forces him to lay down flat on the bed. He can't let his dad see the kid. How can he explain that a boy magically appeared in his room, and is now in his bed with hardly any clothes on? He quickly throws Maxi's discarded clothing under the bed, out of sight, just in time. The door opens and Lexaeus takes one step into the bedroom, head peeking around the door.

"Lex, are you still up? It's getting late."

"Just going to sleep now, Dad," Lex smiles, all innocence and a picture of normality.

"Well, alright then." Lexaeus takes a moment to look around the room, curious, as if searching for something. "Who were you talking to?"

"No one."

The man takes a couple more steps into the room. "I swear I heard another voice in here."

"It was the TV," Lex smiles, trying his best not to shiver. It's kind of hard to lie when soft, ice-cold breath is tickling your stomach, with equally cold small arms wrapped around your torso loosely, chilling the nerves of your skin. "I was watching one of those satire quizzes and the guys on that were on were getting loud."

"…Okay." Lexaeus' shoulders slump, relaxing, and he rubs the back of his neck. "Well, I'm off to bed now, because I have to go back to work tomorrow. Will you be fine to make your own lunch and stuff?"

"Sure. His son smiles broadly at him. "I'm feeling much better. I might be able to go back to school in a couple of days.

Lexaeus chuckles, pleased that Lex was starting to feel better again. He comes over to the bed, and gives the boy a light kiss on his crown, before turning around and leaving the room. "Goodnight, mate."

"Night, Dad."

Lex waits for the door to close, for heavy footsteps to thump down the hallway, for Lexaeus' own bedroom door to close with a thump, before he falls back against the pillows and breathing a sigh of relief. Thank Odin that it was too dark for the man to see properly, thank Leviathan that Lexaeus didn't notice that Lex's legs looked bulbous under the covers, thank Ixion that he didn't put a hand on the bed…

The blankets wiggle around a little, and a round head pops out from underneath.

"Boo." Maxi laughs, trying to stay quiet. "That was close."

"Too close." Lex closes his eyes for a moment, steadies his breath and mumbles a laugh or two. "No more shouting for us tonight."

"Yeah. Agreed… Can I still stay?"

Lex just laughs again, and makes himself comfortable, placing an arm around Maxi's waist. He guess the vampire would stay up all night, or just have a nap, but he didn't seem to mind.

Maxi lays his head down against the human's chest. The thumping beneath the skin and bone is fast and loud, beating a steady drumbeat. "Your heart is racing like crazy. Are you okay?"

"Shh." Lex closes his eyes, running fingers through his friend's damp hair. "It's because you're cold."

"But you're not shivering anymore-"

"Shh."

Lex's cheeks are burning.

He is grinning like a fool.

And he doesn't care.

OOO

Mr. Gamble pushes through the shrubbery, and finds himself on the edge of a clearing. This clearing is the home to a lake not yet fully frozen over, and the resting place of a old parked car. He grins.

"Hurry along, Roxanne."

"I'm coming!" Roxanne pushes her way through the plants, down right pissed off. "You could have waited up, Luxord." She picks a twig from her hair, scowling. "Instead of leaving me behind."

"Well, we couldn't let the car get away, could we?"

To be honest, he knew the car would end up here. This place was rumoured to be the place prostitutes and their customers went because it was off the main road, quiet, and the police don't really come down this far anyway.

Gingerly, they walk over to the car. The girl tried to look through the back windows, but the glass is fogged over with the heat inside. She can only just make out a big fat thing on the backseat.

Roxanne swallows, trying to stop herself drooling. "I smell blood."

As she door opens, a freshly-dead man's arm falls down and dangles lifelessly from its shoulder joint. The corpse has deep knife cuts clashing the off-white of its shirt, and its eyes are rolled back, and pale as the snow on the ground, and cloudy like breath in winter. Its head hangs over the edge of the seat towards them, and they can see that its saggy, yellowed throat has been ripped at the Adam's apple by little, biting teeth and its red with it's own blood, still oozing out slowly like melted chocolate from a hot cake, or sludge from a sewage pipe.

Luxoard simply cocks his head to the side. "Doesn't look like he put up much of a fight, did he?"

Unable to control herself - she could never do - Roxanne doesn't respond to Luxord's comment, and just lands hard on her knees, mouth leaching onto the open wound like that of a leech. As she growls and gargles her drink down, the man shakes his head, and then he spots a pink figure hunched down on the banking, a little way off. He gives the car a check-over, finding a battered suitcase in the back, and a two-year old mobile phone in the glove compartment, which he pockets straight away, before picking up the puffy white coat from the passenger seat and walking on over to the water.

Xanthe is quickly rubbing her dragger clean with her bare hands in the chilly water under the ice, which she had to punch a couple of times to get to. Fingers shacking, the blade sometimes slips, and slits and stabs lightly into a flesh with curses and whispers of pain, but she was used to it, because it was often her who had to kill the perverts Luxords lines up in front of the girls.

Men tended to go for Xanthe. Saying that, there is nothing wrong with Roxanne and Alexa. They are both good-looking, and men with a picky preference for blondes and redheads pick them out in a instant, but they are also boyish. Rugged around the edges and sharp and permanently flat-cheated as their male counterparts. Xanthe just happens to be more desirable because she is girlish; soft and rounded, with a fair freckled face and a body frozen at the tip of puberty, so she will always have the slightly wide hips for her age and the peeking B-cup bosom that is not quite a C.

"You alright, princess?"

Xanthe looks up at the sound of his voice, and now Luxord can see the drying blood on her mouth, dripping down her chin onto her pretty dress, and her dilated pupils that took over the blues of her eyes.

The man sighs. Marluxia will nag at him for letting Xanthe get yet another dress stained, but that will come later. Now, he takes the dagger away, coaxes Xanthe back into a coat, zips, and with a bit of water and a tissue from his pocket, he wipes her face clean.

When feed, for a while, a vampire children enters a state of intoxication, as if they are drunk or doped up. Sometimes they become edgy and giddy, or dopey and sleepy, like Roxanne will, and Luxord knows that it will just be him and Xanthe to push the car into the water, and he will have to carry the blonde girl all the way back to their hide-away as she sleeps kids become are like babies after feeding, and in ways, they are. They are young, and get cranky when tired, and are all still virgins after all.

OOO

It's 09:30. The sun is rising from the east, and Lex has awoken to a warm bed.

Maxi is gone.

He is not under the covers, or anywhere in the room. His clothes are gone too, and the window is locked from the inside. For a moment, Lex feels sad, but he knows that Maxi would have to go home, to avoid the daybreak. He thinks about that. What would happen to Maxi if he did not? Would he burst into flames, and turn to ash? Would it be painful? Lex guess that it would. He accidentally touched a naked flame in Chemistry class once, and it hurt, leaving a light scar on his right middle finger. It would be, he believed, infinity times worse to have the whole body alight.

Slowly, Lex throws off the covers, and swings his legs over, shoving his feet into his towel slippers. He feels light-headed, like he is full of helium and could float away. He walks over to his desk to grab his dressing gown from his chair. As he throws the blue material over his shoulders, and ties the rope around his waist, he sees a scarp of paper taped upon his computer's screen. Confused, Lex blinks and pulls it off, and starts to read the carefully-written, joined-up writing:

Goodbyes are not forever

Goodbyes are not the end

They simply mean I'll miss you

Until we meet again…

Come out and play tomorrow if you can

Your friend forever

Maxi x

Lex smiles. He brings the note to his closed mouth.