Chapter Seven
Abel startled himself awake, his bright green eyes flying open as he made himself dizzy with how fast he sat up. He spent a few groggy moments trying to figure out where he was, and then he recalled he had crashed on the couch last night, after—!
He suddenly remembered the events of the night before, and how vague Cain had been; Marth hadn't been much help, giving the same vague instructions to stay inside. He hated not being able to do anything, but at the same time, he wasn't entirely sure what it was he could be doing. It was too early for him to be plagued with these kinds of thoughts, and he yawned, rubbing sleep away from his eyes. He picked up his phone that was sitting on the table, checking it, but he still hadn't received a call from Cain. This worried him, and he frowned, setting the device back down, wondering if he should just call the other first.
The television was still on, playing news with a different boring news anchor. Just as Abel was reaching for the remote to turn off the droning noise, he faintly processed a couple of words that the newswoman was speaking. "—received reports of a gunfight late last night."
Abel's eyes widened as he suddenly began to pay attention, not turning off the television as he had planned. The woman on the screen was telling of an event that had happened the night before, and the more he listened, he felt his heart dropping in his chest. It had happened in the area where he and Cain had been, but even so, he was trying to convince himself that everything was alright. He was failing in this, unable to tear his gaze away from the dull-eyed reporter.
"Witnesses describe hearing five shots in quick succession. There are no current leads on the perpetrator, but the victim was identified as —" That was the point when Abel stopped listening; not out of choice, but because he had gasped too loudly to hear what the anchor was saying. On the screen was a fuzzy picture of Cain, his face recognizable even through the bad quality of the photo. Abel's hand flew to his mouth, covering it to muffle a loud noise that he almost didn't realize was coming from him.
The chase, Cain's suspicious behavior, the gunman of two weeks ago; it was all connecting, and Abel desperately wished it wasn't. His heart was pounding as he snatched the phone off the table, and his shaky hands dropped it before he could do anything. As it landed on the floor it started ringing, and he grabbed it; to his surprise, the ID on the phone showed Cain's name, and he answered it immediately. "Cain!?" He practically yelled into the phone, on the verge of hysteria.
"Calm down, Abel, Cain is fine." It was Marth's voice, not the one he had been expecting; the navy-haired man was using Cain's phone rather than his own, probably to make sure that Abel answered.
"Where is he? What's going on?" Abel was trying to control the volume of his voice, but he couldn't hide his excessive concern. His heart pounded loudly in his chest, overwhelmed with fear for Cain's life.
"We're at the hospital. Look, it's probably for the best that you don't see him right now."
That didn't answer Abel's question. "What the hell happened?" He demanded, clutching tightly to the phone as he held it to his ear.
"He got into a bit of a scrap. He'll be fine, he just—" Marth cut off suddenly, but the phone didn't hang up. In the background, Abel could hear the sound of another voice, and he couldn't stop a giant breath of relief as he recognized it to be Cain's.
"Who are you talking to?"
"No one, go back to sleep."
"Is it Abel? Let me talk to him."
"No, you need to—hey, stop! Stop, fine, here's the phone, just lay back down."
There was the sound of rustling for what seemed like an eternity before Cain's voice finally came through the phone clearly, with a hopeful tone. "Abel?"
Abel couldn't stop a bit of intensely relieved laughter from escaping his mouth as he heard the other's voice. "Gods, Cain, what happened?"
"It was nothing, really, I'm alright. It's fine, Abel."
"How can you say that when you just got shot? Gods, you could have died!" Abel was trying not to panic again, but he couldn't deal with being told everything was fine any longer. His usually calm and quiet voice was loud and demanding. "I need to know what's going on. Now."
"The bullet barely grazed me, everyone's just overreacting." Abel could hear Cain's defeated sigh over the phone after he realized that his words didn't hold much comfort. "Alright, alright… Listen, I probably won't be able to leave for a while, so if you really want to know, you'll have to come here."
Abel vaguely remembered Marth's warning, but he simply couldn't be sated by false comfort any longer. "I'll be there in a few minutes."
"O-oh, okay." It was clear in Cain's voice that he hadn't expected the other to arrive so soon; Abel detected a bit of nervousness as well. "I'll see you then…"
As the phone clicked off, Abel almost dropped it again. The droning news was still playing on the television, but it had moved to a different topic, and he reached over to finally shut it off. He heaved a sigh, rubbing his temple, not entirely sure if he was prepared for what Cain was going to tell him. All he wanted was for the other to be safe; was that really so much to ask for?
Cain handed the phone back to Marth as he hung up, a frown on his face. The navy-haired male was scowling back at him.
"Was it really a good idea to tell Abel to come here?"
"He has to find out sooner or later." Cain shrugged weakly; he had hidden everything from his partner for so long, but it seemed like that would no longer be possible. The bright fluorescent light of the hospital room was giving him a headache, and he leaned back against the bed. A hand reached to put pressure on his throbbing midsection, but he regretted that action almost immediately, and he instinctively groaned as he pulled away.
Marth's face softened; it was hard to be mad at Cain when he was in such a state. After all, it hadn't been his fault… this time, anyway. "The doctor came in earlier. He said if the bullet had hit you another inch to the left you'd be a goner." He shook his head almost in disbelief, a small smile on his face. "You're one lucky motherfucker, you know that?"
Cain only offered a sheepish smile and another shrug. He wouldn't really consider getting caught in a situation like the one he had been in a lucky experience… but if it couldn't have been avoided, then he had gotten off fairly decently. He shifted uncomfortably, examining the miscellaneous rods connected to his arms. He wasn't familiar with anything medical, and the fact that there was a pole with a container of blood sitting on it that seemed to be dripping directly into his arm was really creeping him out. Hospitals had always made him nervous; he'd spent too many bad nights in them. Reaching down again, the cords moving as he did, he began to mess with the bandages around his waist almost absentmindedly.
"Stop picking at your bandages." Marth's scolding voice came once more.
"Oh…" Cain stopped, not realizing what he had been doing. The room fell into silence again, and he looked around the small room for a minute. It was bland-looking and plain, the only decoration being a small potted plant that sat on the windowsill. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, figuring a bit of rest would do him well before his partner's inevitable arrival.
It seemed as if only a few moments had passed before Cain was being roused, and when he opened his auburn eyes, they met with Abel's bright green ones as the other hovered over his bed. Sitting up, he noticeably flinched, accidentally disturbing his wound as he moved.
"Careful…" Abel murmured in his gentle voice, using his hand to support the redhead's back and ease him up. "How are you feeling?"
Cain rubbed sleep away from his eyes. The light coming from the window was much dimmer than it had been when he had leaned back earlier; he must have been asleep for a while, but it certainly didn't feel like it. "Tired," he breathed, shifting to get more comfortable on the bed that he was already sick of. His eyes closed again; his energy had depleted quickly, and the short rest hadn't been quite enough.
Marth was still in the room, one leg crossed over the other as he read a novel to pass the time while waiting for Abel to arrive. Once the other did, he nodded a small hello, closing the book but still holding it. He stood, approaching Cain's bedside and lifted a small bottle of pills, handing them to Abel. "Give him two of these and wait a minute before you talk."
Abel nodded, taking the container. "Are you staying…?"
The navy-haired male shook his head. "I'll give you two some privacy. If you need me I'll just be in the lobby."
"Ah, okay." Abel nodded once more. As the other began to leave, he turned around, catching his attention. "Marth…"
Marth stopped, casting a glance over his shoulder. "Hmm?"
"… Thank you." Abel was smiling, the gratitude obvious in his eyes. He didn't know what had happened, but he had a feeling that Marth had played some part in keeping his partner alive. The other responded with only a small smile and a nod, before exiting the room.
Abel turned back to the resting Cain, his face softening as he saw the relaxed face of his lover, and he almost didn't want to disturb him. It seemed he didn't have to, as the redhead opened his eyes on his own, blinking himself awake once more. His face noticeably contorted in pain, and he reached over to the bedside stand, blindly reaching for something.
Realizing what Cain wanted, Abel popped open the container that Marth had given him, dumping two of the small white pills into his hand. "Here," he offered them to Cain; the other took them quickly, chasing them down with an almost-empty water bottle that was also on the stand.
As instructed, he waited a few minutes, moving the chair that was in the room closer to the bed so he could be next to Cain as they talked. Abel examined his bedridden partner; the redhead had quite the collection of nasty bruises on him, cuts and scrapes littering his body. Most of them had been treated already, but Abel shuddered to think how bad they must have been before. A silence full of tension filled the room; it was an odd feeling, tension being an uncommon occurrence between them.
"So…" Cain finally said awkwardly, casting a quick glance in Abel's direction and then averting his gaze.
"I need to know what's going on. Start from the beginning." Abel didn't want to waste any more time.
"The beginning…?" Cain's face showed signs of discomfort, but he knew that his partner was right; nothing else would make sense if he didn't talk about how it had started. The only problem was that he didn't really know where to begin, and he hesitated.
"Who is the raven-haired man? He seems to be quite involved in this." Abel tried to get Cain started, figuring that if he began, he would be able to keep going.
"Oh… That's Nico. One of the nastiest men I've ever had the displeasure of knowing." Bitterness was obvious in Cain's voice. "Of course, I didn't know that when I met him…" He trailed off, thinking about how to word what he wanted to say. "Well, I didn't really have the best childhood," he began, following his words with an awkward chuckle, not really wanting to elaborate on that. "That's cliché, I know. I was about twelve when Nico found me passed out in a gutter, surrounded by broken beer bottles and using a newspaper for a blanket." He winced as he recalled the memory. "He took me in, offered me a home and family. How could I refuse?"
Abel nodded, having a vague idea of where this was going.
"I didn't think he was a bad guy. Of course, a lot of things he did were… questionable, but I was still blinded by the fact that he saved my life to notice, and when I did notice, I just let it slide, not wanting to risk losing the only people that I could call a family…" He paused, realizing he had mentioned family twice without exactly saying who. "It was such a mixed group of people. Nobody really belonged anywhere so we all gathered together, and it took me a long time to realize that they were spitting venom on anyone outside of our little 'family'."
Cain shifted where he lay, not even wincing as he moved. The pills had kicked in, numbing the pain in his abdomen, and he reached for the bottle of water beside his bed, finishing it off before continuing.
"I never questioned their hatred. After all, these people were the only friends I had, and I didn't want to go back to how I had been. The worst, though… The worst of them all was Jackie. I never realized it; in fact, I looked up to him. I admired this man, wanted to be like him. Jackie was Nico's older brother, and he treated me as if I were his brother as well, asking me to do special favors and giving me extra praise. I did everything I could to please him, even when my own sense of morality screamed at me not to. I… did some things I'm not proud of." He couldn't meet Abel's gaze as he spoke, and instead just stared out of the window where the dim light was fading, staying quiet for a few moments.
Abel had been silent through all of this, but now he spoke, in a soft voice. "Something happened," he gently urged Cain to continue. "What caused you to stray?"
The redhead gave a small sigh before he kept going with his story. "The violence was the worst part. I did a lot of bad things—stealing, vandalizing, you name it. But no one ever got hurt. Jackie had no problem with doing his own dirty work, but on the occasion that he wanted me to do it for him, I just refused. I couldn't. He would take Nico along instead, and they'd scorn me, calling me weak and threatening to abandon me if I didn't do what they asked. After realizing what they wanted me to do, my old life suddenly didn't look so bad. But that's how the saying goes, right…? The grass always seems greener on the other side." He let out a small chuckle, but it had no humor in it. "When I didn't have anyone, the promise of a family was irresistible. The kind of family I got myself into made me wish that I didn't have one again."
This certainly was a lot for Abel to take in, but he listened intently. Cain's words were getting smoother; the more he talked, the easier it was.
"They never did abandon me, despite their threats. Nothing really changed for a long time—about eight years. I basically grew up in that dump of a home. Jackie was the head of our family—" he suddenly cut off, frowning. "I should stop calling it that. It wasn't a family at all… it was a gang." He shook his head, taking a deep breath before moving on. "Anyway, the point is that Jackie had connections. He strolled into our little camp one day with a gun hanging on his belt, and I nearly fled right then and there." He shuddered at the memory. "He had a whole collection. I never knew where he got them from—I still don't. They were small things, probably wouldn't do much damage, but they were frightening anyway." Cain hesitated. "One day he came with a gun that he couldn't hide. It was huge, bigger than any I'd seen before; he needed two hands just to aim it. It was his prized possession, and he began to bring it around more often, but never using it for anything. I didn't want any part in what he was planning with it; he'd never included me in the schemes with violence anymore, knowing that I would be more trouble than it was worth. But one time, he approached me with it, with that disgusting smirk on his face, asking me to follow him…" Cain's eyes closed he got caught up in the memory.
"Cain," Abel said his name to bring him back to the present, and the redhead's auburn eyes flew open. "What happened then?"
"Sorry… It was strange. He always took Nico with him, but this time he left his brother out, and it was only me. We went far from where I usually stayed; I didn't know where we were, but we were alone behind some building when he finally told me his plan." There was another pause; his talking had gotten easier with the other subjects, but now, it was hard again. "The building we were behind… it was a school. He had taken this gun and wanted to point it at kids. I asked him, what the hell did he want with them? They couldn't give him money or drugs or any of the things he wanted. His answer was that he wanted fun. He wanted to slaughter a bunch of kids just for shits and giggles. And who could stop him, with a gun that size?" Cain balled his hands into fists, his jaw clenched tightly.
Abel frowned, seeing Cain's anger. "You didn't do it," he said; a statement, not a question.
Cain hesitated. "He knew I didn't want to; forcing me to go along with it gave him sort of sadistic pleasure. So… I told him I would."
Abel's eyes widened in surprise, but he said nothing.
"He practically threw the gun at me. It was heavy, I could barely hold it, even at 20 years old; I was underfed and overdosed and didn't have much strength. He never noticed my nervousness, too caught up in the twisted idea of finally getting me to commit an act so horrible. As soon as he gave me the signal to go, I took a few steps forward… and I turned around and shot Jackie instead."
Abel didn't know how to respond; the words stirred up only the slightest bit of surprise; he had almost been expecting that outcome. Cain continued before he even had a chance to try, not wanting to dwell on that part for any longer.
"Nico admired his brother even more than I did, and he had much more potential—and certainly the willingness—to take his place. He was pissed when he realized what I had done. He never forgave me… I never expected him to."
"And the gun? What happened to it?" The amount of hesitation that Cain did before responding gave Abel his answer. "Oh Gods, Cain. Please don't tell me that you have it…" His green eyes were narrowing in concern.
"It's unusable," Cain defended himself. "I broke it and scattered the parts. All I have is the shell."
Abel rubbed his temple, still struggling to take everything in. "Marth knows all this?" he questioned; the other male seemed to have a fairly decent idea of what was going on, too, but he hadn't been mentioned.
Cain nodded his head. "Pretty much. I ran into him pretty often on the streets, but we were never more than acquaintances; he was always on the other side, you know? Never involved in the bad shit I was doing." Cain laughed softly, pausing yet again before continuing. "He found me freaking out over Jackie's body, and took me to the hospital. I don't remember much after that, only that he was able to cover up what I had done. I don't really know why he did it, but I'm grateful. He probably felt pity, because he kept checking on me, even when he didn't have to. We became pretty good friends, and he continued to visit even after I recovered. He's a good guy under that stoic mask."
Abel nodded slowly, and another silence filled the room. The topic had strayed, and it was unclear how to get back on track. Finally, Abel spoke again; not all of his questions had been answered. "Nico did this to you?" He frowned as Cain nodded. "Why's he after you now, if it's been so long?"
Cain shrugged his shoulders, a conflicted expression on his face. He had started to absentmindedly fiddle with his bandages again. "I don't know," he admitted. "I distanced myself from him and cut all ties to anyone I knew from then. My guess is that he was waiting for me to let my guard down before making a move; it worked, too. After four years of being clean, I had almost forgotten that he had even been a part of my life."
"What does he even want you for?"
Cain flinched, and Abel almost regretted asking the question. "It's complicated… None of us ever really had personal possessions. Everything we got, we shared. But that gun… that was Jackie's gun. No one could touch it. When he was gone it was the only thing left that could really prove he even existed at all. Nico wants it."
"I don't understand. If it's unusable, why can't he just have it?"
Cain shook his head. "I've never seen another like it. There's no way I'm letting Nico get his hands on this one. If I keep it somewhere where I can always know where it is, there's no chance of him being able to have it. I never knew where the two of them got their materials, but I don't want to risk them being able to repair it."
Abel didn't like it, but he understood what Cain was saying. He had noticed that his partner's words had started to slow, but he had dismissed it as the other's tiredness. He knew that they should probably wrap this up; Cain needed to rest to recover, and telling such a story of his history had probably worn him out. "Alright… Is there anything else I should know?"
"As long as I'm coming clean about everything… The bullet, uh… Well, it didn't just graze me." Cain's words were becoming incredibly slower now, almost slurred. The pills had been numbing his pain, but his picking at the bandages had disturbed his wound. "I feel kind of dizzy…"
Abel jumped to his feet, concern obvious on his face. His gaze had been locked on Cain's face for the majority of their conversation, but now he glanced down to the other's abdomen, and gasped. Blood had seeped through the bandages, staining the cloth a dark maroon, and it was spreading fast. He hadn't even noticed that his partner had been bleeding, too focused on their intense conversation. "Don't move," he commanded, turning around to dash out of the room. He had assumed that the wound had been worse than Cain had originally let on, but he hadn't expected it to be that bad, and he rushed to fetch the nurse.
The green-haired man sighed as he hovered just outside of Cain's room; the other was sleeping once more, his bandages refreshed and the bleeding stopped. To Abel's surprise, Marth was still there. He seemed to have been daydreaming, staring off into space and hardly noticing when Abel had rushed out. Even now, he barely noticed the other's presence, only turning when he heard his name.
"Look, Marth… I'm grateful, but… Why did you help him?" Abel's voice was quiet as he leaned against the wall outside of the room that Cain was in, in a similar position to Marth who was only another foot or so away.
"He's my friend," Marth responded vaguely with a small shrug.
"You know what I mean," Abel challenged, turning to look at the navy-haired male. "That time. Why did you help him, when you didn't even know him?"
Marth smirked, finding Abel's intense stare rather amusing. "You think Cain was Jackie's only victim?" He was correctly assuming that the redhead had told his partner everything. "I've got my reasons, too." He left it at that, not elaborating, and Abel didn't ask him to.
They were quiet for a while; Abel shifted awkwardly, not quite knowing what to do. He didn't really want to leave Cain, but the redhead was fast asleep, and there was no reason for him to stay. "So… What happens now?" His question was vague, but he was hoping that Marth could at least give him some hint of what he should do.
Marth glanced over towards Abel, as he had forgotten that the green-haired man was there. "Nico's probably going to be pissed that Cain's still alive, but he won't be suspicious for a while. I'll try and make Cain's apartment safe to go back to, anyway."
Abel's eyebrows raised at Marth's words. He wasn't exactly sure what job Marth held, and had never gotten a clear answer whenever he asked. Now, it seemed as if he had some sort of power within the city, and was too casual about it for Abel to ask any questions. "Well… thank you," he managed to say.
The navy-haired male shrugged nonchalantly, and the awkward silence filled the air again. Finally, he breathed a small sigh, turning to face Abel, surprisingly showing emotion on his face; Abel recognized it as concern. "Look... Nico is unpredictable. He's unstable and he's dangerous. I don't know what he's going to do. Just try and stay safe." When he saw Abel's nod, he blinked, his expression regaining its natural stoic state. "Let Cain rest. He'll probably be fine in a couple weeks. There's nothing we can do."
Abel hated hearing that; he hated being helpless, and he clenched his hands into fists. "So I just wait?" His words were slightly bitter as he watched Marth start to walk away, the latter finally deciding to leave.
Marth only nodded in response, the motion working to build Abel's frustration. As if sensing this, the navy-haired man glanced over his shoulder. To Abel's surprise, he had a small smile on his face. "This is usually something I'd say to Cain, but… Don't do anything stupid."