Red Red Rabbithole

by Justfionn

Police detective Vegas and psychologist Pete hunt a serial killer. Piece of cake, right? Think again. This Rabbithole is going to eat you alive. Hop on the pain train and start reading.

27. Chapter 27

"Everybody is a book of blood; wherever we are opened, we are red."

They are officially living together. Vegas finds himself in a state of stunned delight, he cannot believe he isn't dreaming. It takes less than 12 hours, then Pete shows up with a pile of boxes and moves in. Just like that. And now they are living together, the apartment has turned into a real home, and Pete will no longer be leaving in the evenings to head to wherever he lives.

"Cancelled the lease." He informs Vegas cheerfully. "Now you are stuck with me." Pete is so damn happy he is beaming the whole time, skipping around in the apartment, humming to himself. They unpack the boxes together and Vegas discovers yet another side of his boyfriend. No cheesy shirts. No, the clothes that Pete sorts into the cupboard are all expensive designer pieces, simple and elegant, not flashy at all.

"I hope you don't expect me to be your sugar daddy." Vegas remarks wryly, eyeing the pricy wardrobe with concern. "I guess just one of those pants cost more than my monthly salary, I don't think I can afford to keep you in style." No wonder Pete was always so frustrated with Vegas simple t-shirts and jeans.

"Don't expect me to wear my old clothes, Vegas. Those were just my 'work' outfits, for the role I was playing. Antagonizing you with them was fun, but in all honesty I prefer to wear something a little more sophisticated."

"I can't wait to see you in a suit…" Vegas mumbles under his breath, knowing already that Pete will look stunning. "Are you by any chance rich? Heaven knows this household could use a little bit more income so we can buy some decent food more often. I am tired of Ramen or take away four times per week."

"I have a reasonable amount of money, yes. And no, don't ask me where the money comes from, please." Pete smiles at Vegas and winks. "How come you are so short of money? Of the two of us, you should be the rich guy, no? Or did your dad take away your credit cards when you moved out?"

"I have some saving from my mother, but yeah, my father cut me off financially when I left the family against his will. It's okay though, my income is enough for the basics, I don't need anything extravagant."

They also got all the plastic bags with Pete's belongings that Vegas almost threw away out of storage, and are unpacking those too. "Would you like me to throw away the old shirts then, Pete? If you don't mind I would like to keep one or two for sentimental reasons." There are too many memories intertwined with these hideous shirts, Vegas is very reluctant to dispose of them.

"Suit yourself." Pete shrugs, he really doesn't care. It is almost as if he's an entirely new person, his whole body language has changed, and Vegas is fascinated by it. In just under an hour all the clutter is back in place, the apartment is once again frighteningly colorful and Vegas is stupidly happy about getting irritated while arguing with Pete about the possibility of curtains once again. Life is back to being normal and he loves it.

"How did you even sneak back into the country?" He asks later that day during dinner, they have treated themselves to some fancy take-away food. "I put a travel warning on you, in addition to a fancy early warning system. How on earth did you circumvent that?"

Pete laughs, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know I was aware of the people keeping an eye on me, right? Well, imagine my surprise when one day one of them approached me and gruffly handed me a note. Want to take a guess who wrote that note?"

Vegas takes another bite of his steak, chews thoughtfully and swallows. "Porsche. It must have been Porsche, that idiot. Sticking his nose into other peoples business is what he does best."

"Hate to disappoint you, Vegas, but it wasn't Porsche. The note was in fact from your brother." Pete grins.

Vegas nearly chokes on his food. Fuck! No way! Damn, he still doesn't want Pete anywhere near Macau. "That little piece of shit, I am so going to kick his ass…" He growls and Pete laughs out loud. "Not funny, Pete! I really trusted him and he still pulled such a stunt on me. Damn…"

"I thought it was quite cute. I never had a brother, I imagine he must love you a lot, otherwise he wouldn't have ignored your orders and taken things into his own hands. He wrote that you were not doing well at all, and that I should get my head straight and get the hell back home to take care of you. Even sent me the company jet, I never travelled so luxuriously."

Vegas should just stop trying to eat while listening to this, he nearly chokes again. The company jet? Oh no, Macau, you idiot, what have you been thinking? "Bloody hell… " He coughs and drinks some water. "No wonder you sneaked past immigration this easily." Macau, you fucking idiot, Vegas thinks. Not only did you send my little psychopathic stalker right back to me, you also used the damn jet, leaving a trail that might draw the attention of the wrong people.He really needs to talk to his brother about this.

"Don't yell at him, Vegas." Pete tries to reason with him. "He only wanted to make you feel better. Be glad he interfered, otherwise we would both still be miserable."

"I know." Vegas sighs. "It's just… the jet was a stupid move. He will get into trouble for doing this, it's best I have a chat with him soon." He is going to wring Macau's neck.

"He'll be fine. Now stop fretting and eat, the food is getting cold." Pete hands him the bowl with steaming rice and they both fall silent again as they eat.

Everything is back to how it used to be. All the emotional turmoil of the last weeks and months is gone, Vegas feels as if he finally can breathe again. Whenever a spark of doubt about this relationship resurfaces, Vegas tells himself that whatever it is, they will figure it out. This is his happily ever after, and he won't allow anyone to ruin it. Not even himself.

●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●

They are also back at work, both of them. Pete has explained to Vegas that he cannot just quit his job from one day to the next. Apparently he simply took some vacation days during his recent absence, fully intending to return eventually. Asshole. There are procedures one has to follow, Pete explains, he will be working at the police station for at least another month. Vegas grits his teeth because he does not like this situation at all. He is terrified that someone might discover the fake identity, it is stressing him out, but Pete only laughs at his distress. "Damn exciting, isn't it? Chill, Vegas. I have everything under control, don't worry."

And this is just one of their problems. He does not want a fake therapist anywhere near his vulnerable colleagues, so Vegas tries to keep Pete busy in their shared office but that backfires spectacularly because he forgot about the murder board. And he underestimated Pete's need to comment on all the gruesome photos, , now that Vegas knows the truth.

"Red!"

Vegas is forced to cut him off repeatedly and eventually he just kicks Pete out of the office in pure self-preservation. Sorry colleagues, truly sorry. But he just cannot stomach listening to Pete trying to explain the difficulties of unhooking ribs from the vertebrae. Can't do that, sorry. Pete takes it in stride but Vegas suspects he might be feeling a wee bit hurt about Vegas' inability to understand him.

Everything is back to normal, but yet it isn't. It's as if he is dating an entirely new person, and Vegas finds it confusing at times. There is a certain caution in their interactions now, both of them are afraid of overstepping each others boundaries.

And since Vegas had that little drunken meltdown, they haven't done anything other than kissing either. It's not that he doesn't desire Pete, he wants him very much. It's just… complicated.

Vegas steps out of the shower and sighs. If only he could make sense of his own confused feelings. Pete has told him repeatedly not to make things complicated, but how does one do that? Vegas the Cop keeps rebelling, he is unhappy that he got overruled by the heart, he isn't happy with this relationship. But Vegas doesn't want to listen to his cop side, he doesn't want to live his life without Pete. It's a mess.

Vegas dries his hair and slings the towel around his waist. Lost in thoughts, he exits the bathroom to go and get some fresh clothes from the cupboard in the bedroom. There is a gasp from somewhere behind him and Vegas freezes, turns around and there is Pete, staring at him, shock written all over his face. What the heck?

Pete's face has lost all colour, he stares at Vegas with wide eyes. What the heck is going on? Vegas is confused. But that confusion disappears in an instant when Pete walks up to him and with trembling fingers reaches out, touching the ugly scar tissue on the left side of Vegas' chest. Oh. Those scars are very prominent, yes. It will take at least a year until the swelling will go down and the skin will turn pale again; right now the scars are raised, lumpy, reddish and very ugly. Vegas has gotten used to them, he hardly even takes note of them when he looks in the bathroom mirror but this is the first time Pete sees them, and apparently he is taking it hard.

"Sorry…" Vegas mumbles and then realises that he shouldn't be apologising for being scarred, after all it was Pete who shot him and put those scars there. "They don't hurt." He adds because Pete looks incredibly upset right now.

Pete's fingertips skim very lightly over the jagged knotty surface of the chest scar, he is struggling to say something but the words get stuck in his throat.

"It's okay, I survived." If only he had takes a shirt along to the bathroom, Vegas wants to hide the scars from Pete's view. And then he winces when Pete turns him around to see his back because the scars from the exit hole there are so much worse. Pete gasps again upon seeing those.

"I am so damn sorry, Vegas." On the verge of tears, Pete leans in and places a light kiss on the mangled skin. "I am so incredibly sorry for doing this to you. Are you ever going to be able to forgive me for this? I called the ambulance, you know? Right after the shot, when I realised my mistake, I called the ambulance…"

"Pete…" Vegas feels conflicted but turns around and pulls him in for a hug. "I am sure in time I will be able to forgive you, but not just yet, okay? I don't want to lie to you, this is something I am having a really hard time coming to terms with. I know you are sorry, but you will not get an easy way out from me. Even if you get a brownie point for calling the ambulance, I wasn't aware of you doing that."

"The first few days after I shot you were terrible." Pete admits and hugs Vegas back. "I was so scared." He whispers softly. "I didn't manage to get any medical update about you from the hospital. No one would tell me anything. It was terrifying. When I eventually managed to snug in and catch a glimpse of you, you were hooked up to all these machines, I couldn't even get near you."

"I was so out of it, I wouldn't even have noticed your presence. Which reminds me, sending me those flowers was the single most idiotic thing you ever did. I don't ever want to see these flowers again, do you hear me? Never ever." Vegas shudders, he is truly traumatized when it comes to those damn lilies.

"I am sorry." Pete apologies again. With a sigh he pulls back slightly, and then surprises Vegas by leaning down to softly kiss the scar on his chest. Vegas draws a startled breath, and Pete looks up, insecurity written all over his face. "Give me a color, Vegas." His voice wraps itself around Vegas like a caress.

He didn't dislike the kiss, he was just surprised, and therefore Vegas replies confidently with "Green."

Pete kisses the scars again, then moves his lips slowly upward, over the collarbone and further up to the throat, leaving a trail of goosebumps on Vegas' skin. When he finally reaches Vegas' mouth, Vegas is more than ready, he cradles Pete's face in his hand, his thumb sweeping along Pete's cheek and sighs into the kiss. It never ceases to amaze him how strongly he reacts to Pete kissing him. Vegas was never really that much into kissing but now? Wow… he could kiss Pete for hours on end.

What starts as a gentle slow kiss is gathering steam, Vegas sinks his fingers into Pete's hair, his heart rate speeding up. More. Need more. Pete's tongue is hot in his mouth, teasing him relentlessly, Vegas' whole body is on fire, he worries he will spontaneously combust. While Vegas is frantically trying to remove Pete's shirt without breaking the kiss, Pete is walking him backwards. They bump into furniture, the walls, and the doorframe on their way to the bedroom, leaving a trail of discarded clothes in their wake.

Vegas towel has disappeared somewhere along the way, he is fully naked and aroused when they fall onto the bed together. Pete's hands are roaming free over his body, Vegas shudders with desire as they roll back and forth on the bed, disposing of the rest of Pete's clothes until he finally is naked as well.

Yes, finally. Vegas moans into Pete's mouth, relishing the skin-to-skin contact. Then he suddenly finds himself flipped onto the stomach, with Pete straddling him, trailing wet hot kisses along his spine upwards.

Seems the kitten is feeling a wee bit aggressive today. Vegas chuckles breathlessly when Pete grabs hold of his wrists, slamming them into the mattress. Wave after wave of goosebumps erupt down his back, especially when Pete's mouth reaches the gnarled scar tissue of the exit wound and starts kissing and licking it. Holy shit. Vegas hisses with delight, arching his back, and Pete growls against his skin, pressing Vegas's hands even harder against the mattress.

Vegas close his eyes. He loves this, damn, he loves this so much. Aggressive Pete is thrilling, he had no idea what he was missing out on until now. For the time being, he allows Pete to hold the reins, and eagerly awaits where this might be going. When Pete scrapes his teeth along his back up to his neck, Vegas gasps and shudders hard. So damn nice.

"Vegas…" Pete whispers, he is deliciously out of breath as well at this point. "Let's use the handcuffs again."

Oh hell yes, baby… Vegas has very fond memories of these handcuffs, very fond memories indeed. This is an excellent suggestion, maybe they should also get a new bed soon, something with metal rails… Pete nips at the sensitive skin on the back of his neck and Vegas cannot hold back a moan.

With Pete's body weight pressing him into the mattress, Vegas tilts his head to the side so that his boyfriend's hot mouth has better access to his neck. And Pete immediately takes advantage of this, nibbling his way up and down, teeth brushing against skin, digging into the flesh just short of it becoming painful. It is titillating.

"I want to handcuff you so badly." Pete mumbles, scraping his teeth over Vegas' Adams apple, biting down with a little bit more force this time, and this comment is like a bucket of ice water being emptied over Vegas. Within the blink of an eye, his memories take him back to an unbearably hot room, the stench of decay and blood heavy in the air, and the image of a disembowelled corpse with a gaping throat wound.

Vegas gasps and freezes, the sudden terror flooding him so unexpected that he doesn't know how to deal with it. The teeth against his throat are no longer sexy, now he perceives them as a threat. Pete wants him handcuffed, helpless just like the drugged Beam, right before Pete killed him by tearing his throat out.

Oh God! Vegas freaks; he bucks off Pete, rolls to the side until he falls off the bed and then crawls backwards until his back hits the wall. Cold, so cold, he feels as if he's been dipped into ice. Vegas is hyperventilating, he cannot get these images out of his head, he is wringing his clammy hands, staring wide-eyed at Pete who looks completely stunned by this turn of events.

"… Vegas…?" Pete asks tentatively, but as soon as he moves towards the edge of the bed and in Vegas' direction, Vegas defensively throws his arms out with the palms forward, and Pete doesn't dare to move any further. "… Vegas…?" He asks again, confusion written all over his face. "I am … sorry? Were the handcuffs too much? I thought… I was under the impression you liked them…?" Yes, Pete is utterly perplexed.

Vegas swallows hard. Inhale. Hold breath. Exhale. Hold breath. He doesn't know how to answer these questions, right now he is just trying to get his breathing back under control, and for that to happen he needs some distance from Pete. Damn, his body is still telling him very firmly that Pete is a threat right now. Fuck!

The muscles in Pete's face tighten, and his lips are setting in a grim line as he silently watches Vegas struggle for control. Deliberately slow, he inches towards Vegas, but when that causes Vegas' breath to hitch and his eyes start filling with barely suppressed panic, Pete withdraws. And then he curses viciously.

Vegas would like nothing more than try to explain himself, but he is still out of breath and besides, Pete looks rather unapproachable now, his face turning as dark as a thundercloud. With stiff jerky movements, he crawls away from Vegas to the other side of the bed, gets off it and picks up his discarded clothes. The anger he is projecting is very tangible, and not exactly helping Vegas to relax again. Still cursing, and with his clothes in hand, naked Pete stalks out of the bedroom and slams the door shut. Vegas flinches hard, but Pete being out of his sight makes breathing easier. Fuck! What the hell just happened? Fuck!

●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●

Pete is gone when Vegas emerges from the bedroom. Bloody hell, what a disaster. Wearily, Vegas goes and takes a very long hot shower - again. Okay, so he obviously has some unresolved issues when it comes to dealing with the fact that his boyfriend has killed someone during sex. What does that make Pete, a rare male preying mantis? Gah! Vegas feels like a complete idiot for freaking out the way he did. It's understandable that he panicked, but damn… one step forward and three steps back.

The way things are going, they are never going to have sex again, Vegas ponders gloomily. Therapy for both of them sounds more and more appealing. They are both so incredibly broken, it is heartbreaking. There must be a solution to their current problems, Vegas just isn't sure where to look for it. Man, this sucks.

Pete has turned off his phone and remains incommunicado for the rest of the day, which doesn't improve Vegas' mood. He watches some tv, cooks dinner, and watches more tv. Pete is a no-show and eventually, Vegas gives up and goes to bed. He wants to sulk? Fine.

Sometime during the night Vegas awakens, disorientated. Something woke him up, a sound… and then he hears it again, from the other side of the room. Something that sounds suspiciously like a choked sob, and he is suddenly wide awake. Vegas turns around, the room is dark but he can still make out the outline of the person curled up in a fetal position on the far side of the bed. Another choked sob reaches his ears. Pete is home again, he's huddled up like a ball of misery, and apparently he is crying quietly.

Vegas is speechless and can feel his throat getting tight. Pete is crying. Oh no. His face twists in sadness, then he discards his blanket and moves over to Pete's side of the bed. Vegas folds himself around his crying boyfriend, spooning him and enfolding him in his arms. Pete reeks of alcohol, he must have been out drinking. But beneath the stench of liquor there is still the familiar scent of his aftershave that Vegas loves so much.

The sobs are getting harder now that Vegas his holding him tightly, Pete is no longer trying to stifle them. His whole body is shuddering with the force of them, Vegas has never seen Pete fall apart like this before, and he is feeling very helpless all of a sudden. The only thing he can think of is to hold Pete, nuzzling his hair, comforting him quietly. Feel your feelings, his therapist said. Poor Pete, Vegas knows how much that sucks.

It is really heart wrenching to witness Pete's misery. He cries for the longest time, and when the sobs finally slow down enough that he can say something between the hiccups and hitching breath, it just makes Vegas feel even worse.

"… I don't know what to do to make you love me… I love you so much and it hurts… why do you have to be so scared of me… why can't you just love me too… please just love me the way I am… I'm not a monster… please love me too… I don't know what to do anymore... everything is wrong… I mess up all the time… I don't know what to do or say… you get upset all the time… you don't want me touching you… and I love you so much… please love me, Vegas… please… just love me a little bit… don't leave me… I don't know what to do if you leave me… please don't be afraid… I don't know how to fix this… please… love me… please…"

Aww hell. Vegas rests his head against Pete's, swallowing hard, tears gathering in his eyes. "I do love you, sunshine." He tells him softly. "I have never loved anyone as much as I love you. Please believe me, I have not once stopped loving you. Even when you occasionally scare the hell out of me I still love you to distraction. I love you, Pete. You hear me? I love you. Please don't cry." Vegas hugs him tightly, they might have their differences but every word he just said is true. "Please listen to me: I love you, Pete. Even when you kill people. I love you and I will not stop loving you anytime soon. We will figure it out together, okay? I am truly sorry for what happened earlier today, please don't hold it against me. I love you. You love me. We'll make it work somehow."

And Vegas keeps murmuring reassurances into Pete's ear, telling him how much he loves him until Pete's sniffles and hiccups eventually die down and he falls asleep in Vegas' arms.

●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●

"This is not going to work."

Vegas and Pete are in the kitchen, having an argument. About banana muffins. Or rather, about the correct way to bake muffins. Just like with the IKEA furniture, Pete is displaying a lack of interest in following instructions, or in this case, the recipe.

"Nonsense, you will see, these muffins will be super tasty." Pete simply dumps more flour into a large bowl without even measuring or weighing it. It is giving Vegas anxiety.

"Stop. Just stop. Someone spent a lot of time perfecting this recipe to ensure that the resulting muffins will not only be edible but even delicious. You cannot just change the ingredients or the amount of ingredients, it simply isn't done, Pete." Vegas intervenes, taking the bowl away from Pete. "You need to have just the right amount of baking powder in relation to the amount of flour, otherwise the muffins will not rise or they will fall apart."

"Don't make it so complicated, Vegas." Pete complains and simply takes out a fresh bowl. "Trust me, I have a feeling for how much flour we need, why bother with the scale, it's just a waste of time."

"Refill this bowl again and I will smack you. Go and squash the bananas while I do the correct measuring. Only two bananas. Not one and a half, not two and a half, just two. Squash them into goo, that should keep you busy and out of my hair for a while." Vegas glares at his boyfriend and threatens him with a large cooking spoon.

"You need to try to lighten up and not be so rigid in your thinking, Vegas." Pete wiggles his eyebrows, the devil in his eyes, dips his fingers into the container with the flour, and then flings the powder playfully at Vegas.

Vegas sneezes. "Are you a toddler, or what? We are not in kinder garden, don't mess with my kitchen."

"Our kitchen, honey. I am paying part of the rent." Pete informs him cheerfully and flings more flour at his boyfriend, before deciding to make a dash for the bowl Vegas is holding, but Vegas holds it up high up over his head and out of reach. Cackling gleefully, Pete deftly dodges the spoon of doom Vegas swings playfully at him, and jumps up to grab the bowl. Vegas can't help it, he laughs while keeping it out of Pete's reach. Chaos ensues. Five minutes later the kitchen is a mess and so are they.

Both of them are liberally coated with flour, caught between sneezing, coughing and laughing. Vegas is so damn happy, he hasn't been this carefree in the longest time. Smiling broadly, he helps Pete brushing the flour off their clothes. Yes, the kitchen is a mess but who gives a damn? The only thing that counts right now is Pete's dazzling smile as he looks at Vegas. Mine, Vegas' heart sings. My soulmate. All mine.

"Uhm… Vegas… If you keep looking at me like this, we will not get any baking done today because I won't be able to keep my hands off you." Pete warns him, which only makes Vegas smile even wider.

"Is that a promise?" He asks teasingly. "Muffins are overrated anyways. How about you show me where exactly you want to put those hands of yours? I have a few suggestions… "

Up to that challenge, Pete licks his lips, and walks straight into Vegas' open arms. "How about we start with taking off all these dirty clothes, we wouldn't want to spread flour all over the apartment, right?" He murmurs, tugging at Vegas' sweater.

"Sounds like a perfectly reasonable plan to me." Vegas leans in to nuzzle Pete's neck. God, he smells good. He smells good, he looks good and Vegas loves him to distraction. Mine mine mine. Pete's hands are under his sweater now, rooming over the skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Vegas sighs happily, resting his hands on Pete's hips.

And then the doorbell rings.

Damn. Couldn't come at a worse time. Both Vegas and Pete do a startled little jump, then laugh at the same time. "Unbelievably bad timing." Vegas complaints, reluctantly letting go of Pete who withdraws his hands with a sigh. Grumbling, Vegas heads for the door, dusting himself off best he can.

Imagine his surprise when he opens to the door to find himself face-to-face with his little brother. Well damn. He totally forgot about Macau; since Pete's return Vegas has been completely wrapped up in his boyfriend, he actually totally forgot that he needs to have a talk with Macau. Then another thought skips through his mind. Shit. Macau is here and he still doesn't want him to meet Pete. Those two need to be kept apart. Shit.

Vegas automatically smiles while continuing to wipe the flour stains off his face and clothes, frantically trying to find a reason not to invite Macau in. Then something else occurs to him. His little brother looks miserable, truly miserable. Alarm echoes through Vegas. Macau gives him a weak smile and silently mouths 'I am sorry', which only increases Vegas' alarm.

"Well well well…" From the side, Vegas' father steps into view, and Vegas' initial alarm turns into full blown terror. Pursing his lips, Khun Gun gives him a disdainful sneer while looking him over. "Once again a total mess, will you never learn to dress properly? Don't forget you are a Theerapanyakul, son, you have a reputation to uphold."

Nonono. This cannot be happening! Terror blends with panic. Vegas freezes and stares wide-eyed at his father. Why is he here? In all the years he has been living on his own, his father never visited him. Never. Why now? This cannot be happening! He is at a loss for word, his mind is trapped in a never-ending loop … Pa cannot find out about Pete… Pa cannot find out about Pete… this is his worst nightmare!

Khun Gun tilts his head and presses his lips together. Vegas knows he is a never ending source of disappointment to his father, and it hurts. No matter what he does, he is never good enough. "Snap out of it and clean yourself up!" His father barks sharply at him. Both Vegas and Macau flinch at that tone of voice, and instinctively, Vegas hastily starts brushing himself off. Oh God … Pa cannot find out about Pete… Pa cannot find out about Pete…

"Pa…" Feeling completely helpless, Vegas gives his father a beseeching look while blocking the entrance to his apartment with his body. "Can we do this somewhere else? Please?" Anywhere is better than here. And poor Macau… this is all Vegas' fault. Macau only misappropriated the company jet because of Vegas. And now both of them are in deep shit trouble from the looks of it.

"Shut up." His father informs him firmly, narrowing his eyes. "I should have known that you are the one trying to corrupt your brother. We had a deal, you are to stay the fuck away from your brother. What part of staying away is it that you do not comprehend, boy?" He takes a threatening step forward and again, both Macau and Vegas duck their heads and retreat - Macau to the side and Vegas back into the apartment.

He is falling right back into old behaviors patterns, the son cowering before his raging father, he shouldn't do this but his mind is still frozen in terror. …Pa cannot find out about Pete… "I am sorry…" He rambles hastily. "I am sorry… You want to punish me? Fine, lock me up again, just let me put on my shoes, then you can take me away."

"Vegas!" His brother forgets for a moment that in a situation like this, it is better to stay silent and unnoticed. Khun Gun shoves him hard against the wall for opening his mouth, and Macau ducks, making himself very small. Vegas' heart aches, it seems both of them learned the hard way how to shield themselves the best way.

"Leave him alone, it was all my idea." A glance at his father's dark face and Vegas adds hastily. "Please." He is so stressed he even grabs the wrong shoes in his haste, and then is confused that they do not fit him. Oh, Pete's shoes. …Pa cannot find out about Pete… He needs to get his father away from here quickly.

"Going somewhere, Vegas?" An all too familiar voice asks softly from somewhere behind him and Vegas heart nearly jumps out of his chest. Nonono! Oh God, no! Panic-stricken, he glances back over his shoulder and sees Pete slowly walking out of the living room. No, go away! Vegas shakes his head, gesturing for him to leave, but Pete is no longer paying attention to him. His lips curl into a friendly smile as he looks past Vegas towards the people standing by the door. "Are we having visitors?"

Macau's eyes widen as soon as he spies Pete, then he turns as pale as Vegas, his eyes darting over to his father, to check how he is reacting to this unexpected newcomer.

Narrowing his eyes, the head of the Minor family scrutinises Pete, taking in his ruffled and dirty appearance. Just like Vegas, he is still covered with patches of flour. Khun Gun doesn't seem to be overly impressed by this young man at all, he snorts disdainfully and turns his attention back to Vegas. "Oh son…" His deceptively soft tone of voice is sending waves of dread through Vegas. "You really didn't learn you lesson, did you? You thought you could hide this from me?"

Nonono! Vegas breath hitches, he jolts upright and instinctively moves to place himself directly between Pete and his father. Nonono. He is going to loose another person he loves, this is history repeating itself.

"… Pa…" He croaks, his voice sounding strangled due to distress. "Don't even think about it. Leave him alone." He can feel movement behind him, then Pete is by his side, casually slipping an arm around Vegas' waist, leaning against him reassuringly.

"Oh, so this is your father and your brother, Vegas? Am I finally meeting my in-laws?" Pete sounds completely calm, curious even, and Vegas wants to scream. Pete isn't taking this situation serious, he can feel it. Shit shit shit!

Khun Gun scoffs at Pete's words, glancing at him with scorn. "In-laws? Oh please, don't flatter yourself. I can still smell the stench of the brothel my son must picked you up from on you. You want to join the Theerapanyakul family? Then grow some tits and a cunt first!"

Both Vegas and Macau gasp sharply, Vegas can feel Pete's fingers digging deeply into his waist and even though he still outwardly seems relaxed, Vegas can feel the tension in his boyfriend's body. "I see." Pete says softly, way too softly for Vegas' liking. "It is unfortunate that you feel this way, but I guess we all have prejudices that we cannot move past from."

"Pa!" Vegas intervenes sharply. "Could we please try and stay civil with each other? Do you want the whole damn floor of this building to know about our private business?" He turns towards Pete. "And will you please go back to the living room and let me handle my family?" He is still scared out of his mind, the calculating way his father is looking at Pete does not bode well.

"Are you going to dispose of your little toy boy yourself, son, or will you wait for me to handle it?" Khun Gun narrows his eyes, Vegas can see the veins throbbing in his neck, and he gulps. Not good, not good at all. Then his father's attention turns back to Pete. "You better run, you little tramp, and leave my son alone; run as far as possible and pray I won't find you because when I do, you will regret it."

Alarmed, Vegas once again shoves Pete behind him. "Stay the fuck away from him, Pa! And stay out of my damn life too!"

He should have expected it, after all his father's pattern of behaviour never changes, but when Khun Gun darts forward and backhands him viciously, Vegas is still stunned. The force of the blow makes him stagger backwards against Pete, the all familiar pain explodes in his cheek and he blinks wide-eyed at his father who is starting to rage. "Shut your mouth, boy! How dare you talk back to me, show me some filial respect, you little piece of shit! I won't have you make a laughingstock out of this family because you cannot keep it in your pants, giving in to your abnormal desires! I won't have it, you hear me!"

When Vegas bumps into him, Pete's hands automatically reach out to steady him. Vegas can feel that Pete has gone awfully still, and the hairs on the back of his neck rise as his danger sense starts to screech. Suddenly Vegas finds himself stuck between two madmen. "Are you okay?" Pete mumbles, barely audible, and the total lack of emotion in his voice increases Vegas's alarm tenfold. Not good, not good at all! Cautiously Pete pulls Vegas a few steps backward to get more distance between them and the furious older man who continues to shout at them.

Meanwhile Macau watches everything unfold, huddled against the wall across the hallway, and it is painfully obvious that he is scared out of his mind. Just one look at his pale face and Vegas wants to hug him really badly, but for that he would need to walk past his incensed father.

Vegas doesn't know what is worse; his father showering him and Pete with verbal abuse, so angry that he is nearly frothing at the mouth, or the way Pete maintains an iron grip on his arm, immobilised by quiet fury.

Khun Gun is stark raving mad. The whole episode with the airplane must have triggered him badly, finding out that Macau colluded with Vegas made it worse, and now discovering that his son has a lover hidden away is apparently the last straw. He is on a roll, the hatred spewing forth, battering Vegas relentlessly.

"You dumb fool, I can always count on you to ruin everything. If our new business partners find out about your little lover boy, the deal with the southern casinos will fall through! You are so fucking incompetent and useless, just like your mother! No wonder you are inferior to Kinn, you are even a complete failure as a cop, you fail at everything you try, even that! I am ashamed of being your father, just look how angry you have made me, you idiot!"

With every outburst, his father advances threateningly, shaking his fist and pointing his finger accusingly at Vegas who flinches under the onslaught. His cheek hurts from the blow, and his heart hurts from the cruel poisonous words thrown at him.

Grimly, Pete pulls Vegas further back into the apartment, determined not to allow Khun Gun to get within reach of his son again. Vegas is so stunned and disheartened by the sheer amount of hatred thrown at him by his father, his reaction time is regrettably slow. So when Khun Gun lashes out again, all he sees is the shimmer of the family ring in the light, but his body is too slow to move out of the way of the incoming blow.

Vegas might be slow, but Pete isn't. One moment Vegas is about to be hit again, the next second he finds himself being yanked out of the way and his father's hand collides with Pete's face instead. The sound of the hard slap echoes through the hallway, Pete's head jerks to the side by the force of the blow and blood blossoms on his lip.

Pete growls deep in his throat.

"Look what you made me do now!" His father yells at Vegas, who snaps out of his temporary daze, and throws his arms around Pete, holding on to the bloodthirsty predator that his boyfriend has suddenly morphed into for dear life.

"Pete! Don't!" He shouts desperately because he knows what his little psychopath is capable of doing when he is angry and damn, Pete is trembling with rage. "Don't do it, it's not worth it!" And turning to his father, he snarls "Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops and report you for assaulting two police officers!"

His father's face is flushed red with fury. "You dare to threaten me?! Me?! I'd like to see you try, you pathetic little wimp!"

"Pa!" Macau's alarmed shout interrupts the unfolding drama. "Pa, I think the neighbors have called the police!"

That is enough to stop Khun Gun from launching himself at his son again. It is probably for the best, Vegas can barely maintain his hold on the bloodthirsty bundle of rage that Pete has turned into. If this continues, there will be dead bodies littering the floor soon.

"We're not done yet!" His father threatens them as he retreats back into the hallway. "Mark my words Vegas, your lover boy is a dead man walking, you hear me, son?! And then I'll deal with you and beat that rebellious spirit out of you once and for all!" With a last shake of his fist, Khun Gun stalks off, grabbing Macau by the arm and dragging him along.

The sudden silence i deafening.

Vegas feels rather stunned, but he has no time to process what just happened because Pete is still struggling against his hold. Is it safe to release him now? Will it ever be safe? Oh fuck… Reluctantly, Vegas sets his furious boyfriend free.

Pete snarls and rams his fist into the wall. Once, twice. Vegas cringes but it might be better to allow Pete to vent a bit right now. Meanwhile, Vegas goes to close the apartment door. When he turns around, he sees Pete putting on his shoes. "Where do you think you are going?" He asks with alarm.

"Out!" Pete hisses through clenched teeth.

Oh no. Vegas has a sense of impending doom. "You are not going after my father, are you?"

Pete stalks past Vegas towards the exit, not answering this question.

"Promise me!" Vegas grabs Pete hard, turning him around so that they face each other. Pete is white as a sheet, he is trembling with fury, Vegas has never seen him this angry before, and it is damn scary. "Promise me!" He shakes him once, hard, to get his attention. "Promise me you won't kill him!"

Pete hisses angrily, glaring at Vegas. The look on his face reminds Vegas too much of how Pete looked while he was murdering Tawan, and he swallows dryly. Can't let that happen. "Promise me!" Vegas insists forcefully once more.

"Let go of me, Vegas…" Pete growls in a low voice that sends a sliver of fear through Vegas, and as a result his hold on Pete tightens.

"Promise me you won't kill him!" He hates this side of Pete, hates it, but Vegas makes eye contact anyways because this is the only way to ensure that Pete really listens to him. "I know you are pissed off and I am aware that he's a shitty human being, but you cannot kill him, you hear me?! Despite everything, he's my father, and you must not kill him! Are you listening to me? Promise me you won't kill my father!"

"Vegas!" Pete tears himself free, for a moment it looks as if he is about to lash out again, but then he has himself back under control.

Vegas steps forward to block Pete's path. "Promise me! Swear to me that you are not going to kill my father, Pete!"

"Damn it, Vegas!" In sheer frustration, Pete kicks the wall.

"I love you, Pete. Please don't kill my father, I am begging you." Vegas can play dirty too when he needs to.

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!" Again, Pete vents, kicking the wall in ever growing frustration. Then he takes a deep shuddering breath, staring tensely at Vegas. "Fine. I promise I will not kill your father. Happy now?"

Vegas breathes a sigh of relief, steps forward and enfolds Pete in his arms. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I love you." He whispers as he buries his face into Pete's hair. Pete is still stiff with anger, but after a while Vegas feels the tension slowly leaving his body and his breathing calms down as well. And when Pete finally slips his arms around Vegas' waist, and fully leans into the embrace, Vegas knows he has won this fight. Thank God!

●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●

Vegas is carefully cleaning Pete's split lip and then handing him an ice pack to keep the swelling down. He has an icepack too, holding it to his cheek where the bruise has already started to bloom as a dark purple mark underneath the skin. What a pair they are. The day started so well and look how it all went downhill. Fuck.

"I don't understand." Pete finally speaks up, he has been awfully quiet since Vegas more or less forced that concession out of him, and his silence has been grating on Vegas' nerves. "That man is a menace, I don't understand how you can be so attached to him."

"Of course you don't understand, you never had a family." With a sigh, Vegas leans back, sinking into the soft colorful pillows of the couch they are currently sitting on. "It's complicated, alright? My father is a horrible human being, I agree, but whatever he does, he is still my father. I cannot just have him killed because I hate him, that is not how society and families work. I think if you asked around, a lot of people will tell you that they hate their parents. But none of them would actually consent to killing them."

"He hit you though. And from the looks of it, it wasn't the first time either." Pete's voice sounds very strained. "He really shouldn't have hit you, it made me very angry. I think the world would be a better place without him." Holding the ice pack against his swollen lip, Pete watches Vegas closely, carefully choosing his words. "Make me understand, please? Do you love him? Is that why you didn't defend yourself?"

"Believe it or not, my father wasn't always like this. I do have some very early memories of him being a great father, he often took me and my mother on weekend trips out into the country side. He taught me fishing and how to skip flat pebbles over the surface of a lake. I don't know why but at some point it all started to fall apart. It probably has to do with Uncle Korn and the family business. The division of the family into a major and a minor branch was solely done to increase the competition and make us all more ruthless."

Pete is listening attentively and Vegas nearly catches himself smiling because Pete is so earnestly trying to understand.

"I remember that at some point Uncle Korn started to compare me to Kinn whenever the family met, and somehow I never quite measured up in the eyes of the adults. I think in the beginning my father tried to ignore it, but as time went by it just got too much. Those two made my life into a competition I never had a chance to win. My mother tried to protect me for a while but our lives turned more and more violent, and my father more and more unpredictable. He must have been under enormous pressure."

This is the first time Vegas is talking about his father with anyone and he is surprised how many emotions well up inside of him as he recalls everything from the past. "I am not excusing his behavior towards the rest of the family. No one should put a gun in the hand of their 6 year old son and force them to pull the trigger and execute someone. It is inexcusable. I am just saying that there is no easy explanation for his behavior. Like father, like sons, I suppose. I heard my grandfather was even worse than my father and my uncle combined. And just look at my own anger issues, my outbursts put people in the hospital too."

"When you disappeared from the hospital, did you go home to him?" Pete asks him quietly.

"I asked to be moved to the main family mansion first because I knew you couldn't get in there." Vegas admits. "But after a while my uncle and my father decided to gang up on me to turn me into a dirty cop. They tried to blackmail me and when I still refused, my uncle handed me over to my father, who took me home and locked me up in the cellar." Vegas stops because Pete has gone all still again upon hearing this and there is a frightful darkness growing in his eyes. "It's in the past, sunshine. No need to get upset about that anymore. I've been locked up in that cellar so often, it's not a big deal." That is a plain lie, but thankfully Pete doesn't know how much that cellar terrifies Vegas.

"You were hurt. He shouldn't have done this to you." Pete mutters quietly.

"I didn't stay in there for long, they soon moved me outside of the city to the safe house for a few months. It is really quite pleasant there, beautiful scenery, a lovely golden cage."

"But you were still locked up… and since you refused to be blackmailed I can imagine that your father wasn't happy with you at all." Pete isn't an idiot, he knows Vegas is trying to make the situation sound nicer than it actually was. "How often did he come to visit you there?"

Vegas looks away, shifting the position of the ice pack against his cheek. "A few times."

"And how many of those times did he yell at you and hit you, Vegas?" No, Pete hasn't given up on finding out the truth. Seeing how Vegas is reluctant to answer, he sighs. "Come on, out with the truth. I have seen your father in action now, that man is unhinged. Just admit it, he abused you every single time, isn't that right?"

What is there to say? Vegas just nods hesitantly and sighs as well. "I know this sounds bad, but I am used to it, Pete. I can take a few punches, it's no big deal. And I try to block out the verbal abuse as well best I can. Usually it doesn't last long, he runs out of steam quickly. And he hasn't put me in hospital either since I moved out. I can handle it, okay? Don't worry."

"You should hit back, you should defend yourself." Frowning, Pete tilts his head to the side, he still seems to have trouble comprehending why Vegas is acting so illogical.

"He's my father, Pete. I cannot just hit my father, that's wrong."

"You are not making any sense to me." Pete admits. "That man deserves to have his ass kicked, maybe then he will think twice about hitting other people."

"I just can't, okay? He's my father. No matter what he does to me, I could never return his violence with violence. It would be wrong. I don't know how to explain this to you, I think you can only understand it if you have a family of your own."

Rolling his eyes, Pete decides to drop the matter. But Vegas knows they need to talk about something else as well. "You are aware that you are in trouble now, right? You have seen how my father reacted to your presence and our relationship, and you know what he did to my first boyfriend. He's going to come after you, Pete." And that thought terrifies Vegas.

Totally unconcerned, Pete just shrugs. "Let him try. Seriously Vegas… it is adorable that you are worried about me, but you seem to be forgetting that I am not as innocent and meek as I look. If your father comes for me, he will get a nasty surprise."

"Remember, you promised not to kill him." Vegas reminds him quickly and receives an exasperated glare from Pete. "Anyways, I wish you would take this a bit more serious. I am so damn worried, Pete. You have to be really careful, alright? Don't you dare get yourself killed and ruin my happily ever after."

That statement manages to make Pete smile, the dimples make an appearance and Vegas sighs happily, momentarily distracted from his worries. Pete's smile deepens, he shuffles closer to Vegas and leans against his side, resting his head on Vegas' shoulder. "I promised you 'Forever', so yes, I will be careful. Chill Vegas, everything will be fine."

Vegas exhales slowly, trying to shove his worries aside, but he is only partially successful. His father cannot be trusted now that he knows that Vegas is in a relationship. Kissing the top of Pete's head, he takes Pete's hand into his, lacing their fingers together. "Forever. Don't mess it up, Pete. I have a bad feeling about this."

"You are always such a pessimist, Vegas." Pete squeezes his hand gently and then changes the topic. "We still need to clean the kitchen."

Both of them glance in the direction of the mess they made earlier on, and then they groan simultaneously. "Later?" Pete suggests, because neither of them likes cleaning.

"Later." Vegas agrees, and then they just sit on the couch for a while, leaning against each other, taking it easy.

●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●

As far as Vegas is concerned, these next few days are pure torture. Pete is behaving as nothing ever happened. He is cheerful as always and affectionate, but Vegas cannot shake the feeling that something is wrong.

With each passing day, Vegas gets more and more nervous. He knows he is behaving irrational but as soon as Pete is out of his sight, he get so anxious that concentrating on his work is getting increasingly difficult. Macau isn't answering his phone, so that is another stress factor but Vegas tells himself that his father cannot afford to loose yet another company bank account, and so Khun Gun will go relatively easy on his brother.

The worst part of the waiting game is when Pete repeatedly disappears, leaving work without telling Vegas where he is heading, his phone switched off. It is driving Vegas insane with worry and he is always a nervous wreck when Pete eventually shows up at home again.

Finally, Vegas cannot take it anymore. "You need to stop." He tells Pete when he comes home late in the evening after being off the grid for hours. "I don't want to come across as the controlling boyfriend, but could you please try to think about how I am feeling when you disappear from the face of the earth and I cannot reach you? Especially knowing that my father is out there, plotting how to kill you?"

"I am sorry?" Pete seems genuinely puzzled by Vegas' concern. "It didn't occur to me that you would be worried, I told you I can take care of myself."

Vegas wants to tear out his hair in frustration. "Your confidence in yourself in nice, but I feel you are underestimating how determined my father can get when he is pissed off, and I am fairly sure we managed to piss him off pretty badly. I don't want to get a call from the police, telling me to come and identify your body, is that so hard to understand, Pete?"

"I messed up again, didn't I? I am sorry Vegas." Pete walks over to his side and kisses his cheek. "I will let you know when I am late from now on, alright?"

Somewhat mollified, Vegas nods. "Okay." But then something else occurs to him and his stomach drops. "What exactly are you doing when you disappear? You are not planning to kill someone again, are you?" Alarmed, he gives Pete a sharp look. Has it been that long since the last kill already? The murders he knows of were relatively close together timeframe wise, so the next one must be long overdue. If that is how Pete ticks, that is.

"Vegas…" Taking a step backward, Pete sighs, lowering his head as he walks away towards the bathroom.

Let it go, that means, Vegas is well aware of it, but he simply cannot do that this time and so he follows Pete anxiously. "How often do you even need to kill? Is there a set interval you operate on? And does that mean you killed while I was in hospital? No! Don't answer that last part, I don't want to know."

Pete clearly does not like these questions, Vegas can see how he is curling his hands into fists. "I told you I would no longer kill in this city, did you forget?" Pete turns around, giving Vegas an icy look. "What, you don't trust me?"

"How am I supposed to trust you when you have been a habitual liar in the past?" Walking right up to him, Vegas faces Pete calmly. "Everything in the past has been a lie, of course I have trust issues when it comes to you, stop making me feel bad about having doubts. You are sliding right back into your all familiar manipulation territory, sunshine."

Pete stiffens and narrows his eyes. "Are you ever going to stop holding this against me, Vegas? How many more times do I need to apologise? This is getting tedious. "

"I don't want your apologies, I want want the whole damn ugly truth, all the time." Reaching out, Vegas cradles Pete's face in his hands, the thumbs brushing softly along his cheekbones. "I love you, you damn idiot. And I am scared out of my mind that you will drop one of your nightmarish crime scenes on me all of a sudden. Please don't do this to me, okay? I don't need even more nightmares. You go do your thing if you cannot hold it in anymore, but don't forcefully expose me to it. And for heavens sake, talk to me. All I want is a simple message. 'I'll be off the grid, doing my thing for a few hours. Expect me to be home at around 9 am.' That is all I need so that I don't loose my mind worrying about you."

Pete's dark eyes once again remind Vegas of a bottomless abyss. The way he looks at Vegas is so intense, Vegas feels as if he is caressing a leopard that is coiled to pounce and attack him at any second. It is scary. It is exciting. "I love you." He once again tells Pete quietly, knowing that this usually calms him down again. "I really love you. Please don't get bored with me or loose your patience with me."

Slowly, Pete inclines his head and then leans into Vegas' touch, closing his eyes. Vegas breathes a sigh of relief. Catastrophe averted for now. And when he starts kissing Pete and the flames of desire between them flare to life, he tells himself that it doesn't matter if Pete is killing again. He will not let go of this puzzle piece, even if it is drenched in blood, and slowly ruining the rest of the puzzle.

●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●

Pete keeps disappearing, but now Vegas receives a message every time he goes off the grid. Does it make it easier? Just slightly. Okay, so now Vegas knows that his father hasn't snatched his boyfriend, but the fact still remains that Pete is out of his sight and doing something he is unwilling to share and it is stressing Vegas out. He doesn't know how much more of this he can take before he will crack and cause another scene.

If only he had something to do at work, but everyone there expects him to be busy catching the infamous serial killer, who also happens to be his boyfriend. So Vegas has to fake an investigation he isn't actually working on, and it is frustrating as hell. Everything sucks big time, Vegas lives for the hours when Pete is at home and when they pretend that everything in their lives is normal.

Vegas is aware that this cannot continue indefinitely, and when everything starts to unravel, it comes almost as a relief.

The sun is setting and Pete has been out of touch the whole day, so Vegas skipped preparing dinner for two and just had a sandwich. When he hears the key in the lock of the door, he inwardly breathes a sigh of relief. But that turns into alarm the moment Pete enters the living room.

"What the fuck happened?!" Vegas exclaims, dropping the book he has been reading and hurriedly gets up from the couch. Pete has been roughed up. His hair is ruffled, there are signs of a recent nosebleed and his clothes have some fresh tears as well. And is that blood on his arm? Vegas gasps and hurries to his side, inspecting his boyfriend's upper arm anxiously. Yes, Pete has a cut there that is still bleeding sluggishly. A cut. From a knife. Vegas' breath hitches.

Pete himself is remarkably calm through all of this, he has stayed silent up to now, allowing Vegas to fuss over him. But seeing Vegas' growing distress, he sighs and smiles tiredly. "I'm okay, I just had a little run-in with your father's bodyguards. Don't worry, it's just a shallow cut."

Fuck! Vegas' anxiety spikes instantly. His dad finally made his move it seems. "We need to clean this." He mumbles, staring at the cut. Red. He doesn't like red. Red doesn't suit Pete.

"Trust me, I am okay, Vegas." Pete inhales a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. "I want you to come with me, I think it would be better for us if we left here for a while."

Vegas blinks, listening but not quite comprehending. Red. He does not like it when Pete bleeds. It is stressing him out, reminds him of white flowers turning red. He does not like this.

"Vegas." Pete lightly touches his cheek, bringing Vegas back to reality. "I am fine, don't fret. You can patch me up if that will make you feel better, but then we have to leave."

Yes. He needs to get that blood off Pete. Vegas nods numbly and goes to get their first aid kit from the bathroom. His father has hurt Pete. He knew this would happen. He knew it. His father has hurt Pete and he won't stop at merely hurting him. He is going to kill his boyfriend, he is going to take Pete away from him. History is repeating itself, he should have known it would end like this. He's such an idiot, hoping for a happily ever after. His father is going to kill Pete, and then Vegas will be all alone again.

"Vegas." Once again, Pete brings him back to the real world, he sounds concerned. Vegas blinks again, he must have spaced out while cleaning the injury on Pete's arm. Swallowing hard, he tapes the cut and then places a sterile gauze pad over it, taping that in place too.

Pete leans in and gently kisses Vegas' forehead. "Thank you. Now please stop worrying. Grab your phone, I am going to take you somewhere safe to regroup."

"We are leaving?" Damn, he needs to snap out of his daze and start paying attention to what Pete is telling him. "Where exactly are we going and for how long?"

"We are going someplace safe. I am a sitting duck here, let's try to avoid collateral damage. I wouldn't put it past your father to blow up this entire building, he seemed angry enough. Let's go, Vegas." Pete tells him grimly.

And so they leave. Pete is driving, Vegas is in the passenger seat, trying not to spiral into despair. "What on earth happened?" He asks quietly after a while. They are heading for the outskirts of the city from the looks to it.

"I told you, I had a run-in with your father's bodyguards. Nasty bunch, all of them. But objectively speaking, they are not as well-trained as your uncle's bodyguards. Bay was giving me a lot more problems back then." Pete casts Vegas a quick look before concentrating on the traffic again. "Chill Vegas, I got rid of them, it just took me a bit longer than expected because there were so many of them. That's why I got a bit roughed up as well. But I am safe now, that is all that counts, right?"

"Did you kill them?" Vegas can't help asking even though he knows the answer already.

"They are pretty dead, yes." Pete shrugs. "The 'No kill' order didn't extend to them right? I just promised I wouldn't kill your father."

What a fucking mess. Vegas forks his fingers through his hair, he can already imagine how his father will react to the death of his guards. "At least the bodies won't be connected to you." His cop part kicks in, looking at the practical side of everything. "The police will assume this is related to power struggles amongst the ruling families."

"Perfect." Pete mutters, weaving the car through the traffic. Yes, they are definitely on their way out of the city.

"Where are we going?" Vegas asks again.

"Somewhere safe." Pete says and Vegas believes him. Being a serial killer, he probably planned for something like this, a guy like him most likely has a lot of safe places scattered across the country. "Get some rest, Vegas. We will be on the road for a while, I will wake you when we arrive."

"Shouldn't you be the one taking a rest? You are the one who got hurt after all. I can drive if you want to…" Vegas offers instantly but Pete just shakes his head.

"I am fine, really. That little cut isn't slowing me down or hindering me the slightest bit. Go and rest. I think this must have been quite a shock to you." Again, Pete casts him a small dimpled smile to reassure him and Vegas gives in. He leans back in the seat, resting his head against the window, watching the scenery race past; everything is dipped into shades of red by the setting sun. Too much red. I don't like red. Vegas sighs and closes his eyes.

"I love you." He hears Pete whisper quietly, and that makes him smile. It feels good to be loved. He will follow Pete to the end of the earth if it needs to be. And then Vegas falls asleep.

●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●

When Pete wakes him with a kiss, darkness has fallen. The car is parked, and when Vegas opens his eyes sleepily, the first thing he see is Pete's smiling face. Dimple alert. He can't help himself, he reaches out, slips his hand around Pete's nape and pulls him in for another kiss. Mmmmm… nice. Their lips brush against each other, causing the familiar electric tingle that is so addictive. "Time to wake up, sleepyhead." Pete murmurs against his lips.

"Mmmmm…" Vegas hums happily, he wants to be woken up like this every morning. Then he notices that it is dark outside. And that they are in a car. And he remembers everything else, and his good mood disappears. "Are we there yet?" Wherever 'there' is.

"Yeah, we have arrived." Reluctantly, Pete withdraws and prepares to get out of the car.

A glance at the clock confirms that they have been driving for nearly 2 hours. Wow, where are they? Vegas stretches and then pays more attention to their surroundings. Somehow he expected another city, maybe a small town, but this place looks like the deepest countryside. "No spa?" He jokes half-heartedly. "And here I was hoping you would be keeping me in style during this little outing."

The door-handle in hand, Pete turns his head to glance back at Vegas. The joke didn't make him smile, he just gives Vegas one of his intense looks, and Vegas feels a sliver of unease slide through him. "I love you." Pete tells him quietly, his voice heavy with a lot of unspoken emotions. Vegas meet his eyes and forces himself to smile despite his growing disquiet.

Then Pete exits the car abruptly and there is nothing left for Vegas to do but to follow his lead. They are indeed somewhere in the countryside, the property they are currently on is located away from any larger road it seems. It is very quiet here, there is no sound of cars, just a light breeze rustling through the leaves of the nearby trees and the crickets chirping in the darkness. Thankfully the full moon is providing enough light for Vegas to get a better look at the building ahead. Well, this is definitely not someone's residence, it looks more like an abandoned barn or a warehouse?

Pete is a few steps ahead, waiting; one look at him and and Vegas' stomach drops. The vibe, the body language… it seems the predator has come out to play. He is rocking back and forth on his heels, then cocks his head to the side, arching an eyebrow at Vegas. "Coming?" Pete asks in that silky voice of his, and Vegas gulps. Every step he takes towards Pete is taking a lot of effort all of a sudden. Don't do this to me, please don't do this to me. Vegas thought they were trying to work things out between them but perhaps he was wrong, perhaps Pete has grown bored with him already.

Warily, he glances at the looming building ahead, swallows hard and gives Pete a weak smile. Vegas wasn't kidding when he said he would walk into a burning building with this man. He is going to follow the predator into this warehouse as well, even if his heart is breaking and his danger sense is screeching at full volume.

But a short distance from the door his body goes on strike, and he comes to an abrupt stop. His legs just won't move forward, he feels frozen in place. Vegas clears his throat. "I don't think I want to go in there." He says quietly, with an audible tremble in his voice.

Pete huffs softly with disappointment and impatiently taps his fingers against his leg. "Nonsense, just come along, Vegas. It has been a long day and a long drive, let's go inside, I am tired." But he doesn't look or sound exhausted, Vegas could swear Pete is brimming with barely contained nervous energy. He is excited, that's what it is.

"Pete?" Vegas swallows hard. "Did you lie to me again?"

Pete stills, slowly raising his dark burning eyes until he is looking straight at Vegas. Oh shit. Yes, it is definitely Pete's dark side that is firmly in charge right now. "Yes, I did." Pete admits softly, and something inside of Vegas cracks and breaks when he hears those words.

The disappointment is crushing. Why is this happening to me? Goddamnit, why?

"I love you, Pete." Vegas just needs to say it out loud one more time, because nothing has changed, he still loves this man. And then he cannot keep himself from asking something else, his voice heavy with apprehension. "Are there going to be any flowers inside?" Vegas doesn't think he can handle those flowers; whatever Pete is up to, even if he is to die here tonight, he would rather not relive that particular horror too.

"No flowers." Pete reassures him calmly. "It would have been a nice touch, but you were very clear about not liking them." The abyss gives Vegas a charming dimpled smile, holding out its hand invitingly. "Let's go inside, shall we?"

Resigned to his fate, Vegas takes Pete's warm hand, lacing their fingers together. Mine. My soulmate. Love of my life. "Sure, let's go." He tells the monster, squeezing its hand before following it into the darkness.

●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●

The inside of the warehouse is shrouded in murky shadows. Vegas cannot see anything, he is blindly following Pete, holding on to his hand, trying not to fall over his own feet as they navigate the sweltering darkness. I need a hug, that is all he can think about at this moment. I really need a hug right now. He is so damn scared he hardly dares to breathe. He wants the monster to stop leading him further into the unknown, he wants to be hugged instead. I love you but I really want to kick your insensitive ass right now.

Judging from the echoing sounds of their steps, it is a sizeable area. From the outside the warehouse looked large enough to park several cars inside. And it seems to be largely empty as well, at least Vegas thinks so, but it is so dark he has trouble seeing further than the man currently leading him through the gloom.

What did I do to deserve this? Underneath all the fear, Vegas feels heartbroken. He is just so damn tired of it all. His life has never been easy, then Pete showed up and everything went to hell big time. He's so damn tired of it, Vegas just wants it all to end. I can't do this anymore, I really cannot do this anymore.

When Pete… no, the monster… the Abyss… whatever… when he stops, Vegas just walks on, closing the distance between them. He releases his hold on Pete's hand and instead slips his arms around the other man's waist, resting his head on his shoulder, feeling thoroughly demoralised. Pete smells so good, as always. Vegas is so insanely in love with him, even with this dark version of Pete, and it is tearing him apart. He doesn't want to face whatever Pete has in store for him, not just yet. He just wants this hug. "I don't know why you are doing this to me." Vegas mumbles, he's so pathetic, he is practically begging to be comforted by the person responsible for putting him through all this.

After a brief moment of hesitation, he can feel Pete hugging him back. He is on edge, Vegas can feel the tension in his body as he nuzzles Vegas' hair. "I am doing this because I love you." The monster explains, as if that is a valid reason. Vegas just sighs, too depressed and scared to start an argument.

"Vegas…" Running out of patience, Pete slowly pulls away, but at least he is kind enough to gently kiss Vegas' cheek one more time. "I have a surprise for you, are you ready?" If only he wouldn't sound so cheerful. Talk about reading the room, Pete really needs to work on his empathy.

No! Vegas wants to shout at him. No! Fucking red! No! But instead he hears himself sighing his agreement. "Sure, bring it on, sunshine."

"Stay here. I'll turn on the light." The monster tells him enthusiastically before disappearing into the darkness. Vegas swallows hard. He is not ready for this. There is this huge lump in his throat, he feels as if he's being strangled by it. No, he isn't ready.

From a distance, he hears Pete moving around, then there is a 'Click' and suddenly light floods the area. Vegas is blinded, closing his eyes against the abrupt brightness. No, he's not ready for this. "You can open your eyes now." Pete giddily calls out to him, but Vegas doesn't want to open his eyes. Not now, not ever. "Seriously Vegas… " It sounds as if Pete is coming closer again, and there is that growing edge of impatience and irritation in his voice once again. "Just open your fucking eyes already."

I hate you. Gritting his teeth, Vegas cautiously opens his eyes, blinking several times, as everything shifts into focus. He doesn't know what exactly he expected to see, but it certainly wasn't this. It is an anticlimax of sorts, all of Pete's other murder scenes have so far been outrageously bloody and over the top. This one here is not like them at all, perhaps because it isn't a crime scene - yet.

The cop part of Vegas takes over, noting down all the details of his surroundings. A warehouse. Stone walls. Windowless. Bad ventilation. Hot inside. High ceiling, enough to park a truck in here, perhaps even two. Metal roofing. Large doors on the other side of the building, for easier vehicular access. Concrete floor. Large steel-plated area right in the center of the room. A drain in the middle of it. And by that drain…

Vegas makes a strangled sound at the back of his throat.

A metal chair with armrests, connected to the steel flooring. And that chair is occupied, someone is sitting on it. The ankles of the person are handcuffed to the front legs of the chair. The wrists are handcuffed to the armrests.

No. Oh no. Not this. Oh no.

Vegas can feel his legs getting all wobbly, and for a fleeting second he wonders if he is about to faint. Then the gagged figure on the chair slowly lifts his head and glares in their direction.

"Pa…"

Vegas' knees hit the floor hard as his legs finally give in. It hurts but the pain doesn't even register, he is in complete shock. He expected a lot of things, but not this. He lied. It hurts so much. Pete promised him, and it was all a lie. Once a liar, always a liar.

Pete doesn't even spare Vegas a glance as he leisurely strolls past him towards Khun Gun, he is positively giddy with excitement about this surprise. "I am sorry for lying to you, Vegas. Well, technically speaking, it wasn't a real lie, it was more like omitting certain facts." Then he turns his attention towards his captive. "How are we doing, did we have a nice little nap?" Pete cocks his head to the side, smiling cheekily down at the furious immobilised man. "Excuse me for not removing the gag just yet, you would just ruin the mood with all your foul words." Chuckling, Pete condescendingly pats the man's head.

The head of the minor family growls, there is not much else he can do to voice his displeasure at this point. He bucks against the handcuffs, but they do not give in even an inch. His father definitely drew the short straw in whatever fight that brought him here. Pete was just a bit roughed up, but there are a lot more bruises and blood on his father. Khun Gun's customary beige suit is stained dark in many places, with cuts and tears all over it, even the flamboyant neckerchief is torn.

… his father…

… Pa…

"What the hell do you think you are doing?!" Vegas finally finds his voice again. "Pete! Have you lost your mind?!" He doesn't even bother to get up, Vegas simply crawls frantically across the floor towards the chair holding his father. Oh God. This cannot be happening, he needs to do something!

"Actually, I am remarkably clear-headed for once." Pete steps aside as to not block Vegas' path. "I have been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I have finally come to the conclusion that this man here is the source of all problems."

"This man is my father!" Vegas shouts at Pete, he has finally reached the chair and starts to examine it. Fuck! It is solid metal and has been welded to the floor expertly. Now he knows what Pete has been doing all these times when he disappeared. His father shouts something inarticulate from behind the gag, and Vegas flinches at the tone of voice. He recognises the anger. Oh yes, his father is very angry. "I am sorry, I am sorry." He mumbles, trying to push and pull the chair but it doesn't move at all. Fuck!

Clasping his arms behind his back, Pete watches all this curiously, making no attempt to stop Vegas. Or rather, it is the monster watching everything. "Yes, he's your father but he is also a truly despicable human being. Let's face it, Vegas, your father has been abusing you physically and mentally since your early childhood." He sneers at Gun. "Karma's a bitch, eh? Guess you didn't expect someone to finally stand up to you, and especially not your son's boyfriend."

In his quest to free his father, Vegas is now fumbling with the handcuffs holding the ankles in place. Fuck, those are the same kind of high-security handcuffs that Tawan used on him. Fuck! Pete fastened them really tightly too, his father must be in pain. "Give me the damn keys, Pete!" Vegas snarls at him, trying not to listen to what he is saying because it is just making him even more upset. And then he apologises again to his father. "I am so sorry Pa, I'll fix this, just a moment."

With a bemused expression on his face, Pete watches him struggle with the handcuffs, totally ignoring Vegas' request for the keys. "You are not getting them off this way, Vegas. You really should know better, you tried to get out of them for days during your captivity."

On the verge of tears, Vegas stops his frantic rescue attempts and turns to fully face Pete. "The keys! Now!" He demands forcefully. "This madness stops right here and now! You really went too far this time!"

"I haven't even started yet." The monster points out mildly. "And you can forget about me giving you those keys, this asshole is not going anywhere. We are all gathered here to fix the problem he is posing, so start paying attention, Vegas. I know you are regrettably upset about your father's predicament, but it really cannot be helped."

"Pete…" Dismayed, Vegas stares at his boyfriend, but doesn't really recognise him. This is the monster in its full glory, he caught a glimpse of it just moments before it shot him. It is terrifying. Should have shot him when I had the chance. The thought flutters briefly through his mind. Too late now. Didn't even bring a weapon here. You are such a fool, Vegas, such a damn fool. Vegas is at a loss for words.

"Now, where was I…?" A glance at Khun Gun, and then Pete surprises Vegas by removing his father's gag. "Be nice now, will you? You should be part of this discussion, that's only fair since it concerns you."

Still kneeling at his father's feet, Vegas watches wide-eyed, and then cringes when his dad instantly starts to curse. Yup, that was to be expected. And while Khun Gun is spewing forth obscenities, Vegas warily sneaks a peek at Pete again. What will be his next move? For now the monster is just listening to the truly vile words thrown in his direction.

"You are dead, you are so fucking dead!" Khun Gun finally shouts at the top of his lungs, glowering at Pete. "I am going to fucking kill you!"

"Not if I kill you first." Pete points out with amusement and tsks. "Didn't I tell you to be nice?" And before Vegas can stop him, Pete slaps his captive so hard that the man's lip instantly splits. "That's payback for hitting me, you asshole. Now shut the hell up." Then he turns towards Vegas and gives him an apologetic smile. "I am sorry. I know he is my father-in-law, but he really makes me angry."

Vegas blinks. His brain has trouble keeping up with what is going on here. Everything is moving too fast, he is still too shocked to keep up with the developments. "… Pa…" Helplessly, he looks at both men and then struggles back to his feet. Continuing to kneel seems like a bad choice, he is at a disadvantage in that position. But maybe standing up was a bad idea, he discovers that his legs are still awfully wobbly. Since he cannot come up with anything else to do, he awkwardly tries to use the cloth of his shirt to dap at his father's bleeding mouth, but that only makes Gun focus his anger on his son now.

"You useless piece of shit, you call yourself my son?! You allow your little boy toy to do this to me?! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Get me the hell out of these handcuffs, boy! What are you even waiting for?! I thought you were a cop, arrest this madman! I am you damn father, Vegas, do something!"

Vegas flinches again, ducking his head, old habits die hard. Pete see that and frowns. "See, this is exactly what I was talking about. This man is pure poison. Don't forget he repeatedly locked you into the cellar, Vegas. He hit you. He is constantly throwing abuse at you. I know you tried to explain it to me, but seriously… Can't you see that he is messing with your head?" His voice is turning cold now. "He is messing with you, and it needs to stop."

There is no weapon, and nothing that can be used as a weapon either. Vegas despairs. What is he supposed to do? He needs to save his dad, but how? And even if he had a weapon, would he be able to threaten and potentially injure Pete? He doesn't want to find out. "Give me the damn keys, please." Vegas begs Pete. "This is not the right way to handle my father and the problem he poses. Let us just go and live abroad, Pete. We can leave everything behind and have a fresh start somewhere else, okay? But please leave me father alone."

"No." There is not an ounce of understanding in Pete's voice, he looks entirely detached and distant now, and Vegas' heart sinks. "Your father has systematically broken you, Vegas. He broke you into pieces and then you put yourself back together best you could. But he broke you again. And again. I know you did your best, but it is like with broken bones, you need expert help to make them heal correctly, otherwise they grow back together all crooked. And that is what happened to you, you put yourself back together the wrong way, Vegas. I thought about this for quite a while, so I am reasonably sure I came to the right conclusion."

Khun Gun has fallen silent as well, maybe the seriousness of his situation is finally starting to sink in. He appears to re-evaluate the threat level Pete is posing, and for the first time in his life, Vegas sees his father being afraid.

Vegas is afraid too. Afraid and utterly torn because this is his soulmate and he cannot turn off his feelings even now.His father's life is at stake, and he is failing all over again. Such a loser. "You promised." Vegas accuses him tremulously. "You promised me you wouldn't kill him, Pete…"

Pete pinches his nose and sighs deeply. "I know. You need to understand that I love you very much, Vegas. I promised I wouldn't kill him, and I didn't lie about that." With just one step, Pete is standing before Vegas and gently cups his cheek with his hand while looking him straight into the eyes. Dark, so dark. A bottomless Abyss. Vegas can't help but shudder as he leans into the touch.

"I did not lie. I am not going to kill your father, Vegas." The monster tells him with its silky voice. "You are."

Vegas looks into the Abyss, and the Abyss looks back, likes what it sees, grabs him and drags him down into hell. Two words. Just two words. His world falls apart with two words. Khun Gun gasps, but Vegas cannot even do that anymore. Is he even still breathing? Two words. Cruel, so unimaginably cruel. He really underestimated the dark side it seems. Fuck.

Pete's hand feels so warm against his cheek. And the way he looks at him, as if Vegas is the centre of his world. It is too much, Vegas cannot wrap his mind around it, and so he withdraws, taking a step backward while shaking his head in denial.

"No." Because really, what else is there to say? 'No' should be sufficient, he is not going to kill his father. No way. Absolutely not going to happen. And since Pete simply gives him a Cheshire Cat smile while dragging him down into the darkness, seemingly refusing to listen, Vegas repeats himself. "No. No, I won't." And then the dam breaks and anger surfaces, red hot anger.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?!" Clenching his jaw, he accusingly points a finger at Pete. "Have you completely lost your freaking mind?!" Vegas is so very angry, mind games again, he fucking hates these mind games, he is so done with this.

But the Abyss simply ignores his outburst. "I am going to fix everything, Vegas, I have it all figured out." Still smiling eerily, the monster takes a step towards him and Vegas automatically retreats, his fear once again overwhelming the anger. "He broke you, and you put yourself back together all wrong. That's why you cannot truly accept and love the real me. You said yourself that you will always pick your family, pick him over me. And he will make you leave me. You are already thinking about it, don't deny it. I can feel that you regret giving me another chance. You think I am all wrong, and it's all due to this man over there. So I am going to fix it."

Vegas' breath hitches repeatedly while listening to Pete. His anxiety spikes to never before seen levels. Insane, this is insane.

"Just like with bones that grew back together the wrong way, to fix them you need to break them all over again so that they can heal properly." Pete explains with a chilling softness. "So that's what I am going to do, I am going to fucking break you, Vegas. I am going to make you fall apart, and then I am going to put you back together the correct way, so that you can love me without being troubled by your damn conscience."

"He's completely insane…" Khun Gun whispers fearfully, breaking the silence. "Vegas… son… do something… save me…"

But Vegas can't move, he is frozen in place, his anger has completely vanished and all that is left is terror. Yes, Pete must be insane, no normal person would come to these kind of conclusions. Vegas is stuck here in the middle of nowhere with an insane killer, and no way to defend himself or his father. What a fucking nightmare. Oh God, why is this happening to me? "Don't do this to me." He pleads, he is back to wringing his hands because he is so damn scared. "This is Red, you hear me? Red. I am not going to kill him, you cannot make me do it. He's my father, Pete. You cannot make me kill my father. Besides, you got it all wrong, I already love you, I really do."

But Pete snorts dismissively at that, ignoring their color coded warning system completely. "You freak out when I touch you. You are a nervous wreck when you do not know what I am doing at all times, because you suspect me of being out there, killing people. You won't let me meet your family because you are afraid of me. You don't want me to keep my job because you don't think I am qualified to help others when I am killing people. You have nightmares about my murder scenes, you cannot even look at the crime scene photos or hear me talk about my kills without freaking out!" His voice gets louder and louder and it all ends in a desperate shout. Oh shit, Pete's upset.

Still… Even in the face of that, Vegas musters all the courage he has left and resolutely faces the monster. "I refuse. I will not kill my father. You cannot make me do it, I would rather die than kill him."

Instead of the expected frustrated outburst, the monster smiles at him, and Vegas' stomach drops. He must have overlooked something. Why would Pete smile? Why…?

"Oh Vegas… " Pete tsks softly. "I knew you would say that. That's what I love about you, you have so much integrity." He turns towards Khun Gun and the smile he gives him is so thoroughly wicked that Vegas feels the first signs of an approaching panic attack. "Would you like me to tell you why your son is going to kill you?"

Both Vegas and his father swallow hard, united in their trepidation.

"You see…" The Abyss breaks into a wide dimpled smile."…I have Macau."

The distress slamming into Vegas is so intense that it knocks him off his feet again and he finds himself sitting on the floor. Macau. Vegas' stomach heaves and the next moment he is retching all over the floor. There is a dull buzzing in his ears, he is feeling very faint all of a sudden. Macau. Oh God. He throws up until there is only bile left. Oh God. Nonono. Macau. This cannot be happening.

Crack.

The glue that holds the pieces of Vegas together is weakening.

His father is making some anxious sounds as well, perhaps he is talking, but Vegas shuts everything out. Macau. The one person in his life he must protect at all costs. Oh God. He feels cold all of a sudden, then hot again, he knows he is sweating and gasping for air, his heart is racing and everything in his body is going haywire. Macau.

At some point he becomes aware that someone is tenderly wiping his face with a cool washcloth, stroking his hair. "It's alright…" The silky voice murmurs lovingly. "Take it easy, just breathe. I got you, Vegas. Everything will be alright."

No, everything will not be alright. When he finally catches his breath, Vegas shrugs off Pete's hand because he cannot stand being touched by him right now. He wants to get up and walk out of this warehouse, away from this madness, right into the ocean and never to surface again. But he can't, because Pete has Macau. Just thinking about it causes a fresh spike of anxiety. The overall sense of betrayal about this is crushing, and yet another crack appears.

Slowly Vegas raises his head until he is looking Pete straight in the eyes. "I am never going to forgive you for this." He states quietly. "Never."

Pete shrugs his shoulders, and there is sadness in his dark eyes. "I know. But I love you anyways, Vegas."

Then both of them simultaneously turn their heads, looking at the man cuffed to the chair. The moment his father sees the expression on Vegas' face, his features twist into naked fear and he starts shaking his head frantically. "No! Vegas! You are my son! I am your father! You can't!"

With a fluid motion, Pete jumps up and stretches, just like a cat. His lips curl into a cruel smile as he looks down on the distraught head of the minor family. "I bet you regret treating your son like shit now. Did you see? He didn't even hesitate for a second, he picked his brother over you in an instant. Not a moment of doubt. Sucks to be you right now, eh?"

Then he turns and offers Vegas a hand to help him up as well, but Vegas ignores it, struggling to his feet without accepting any help. Crack. Pete is right of course, he knows Vegas too well. The second Macau was dragged into this mess, Pete won. And it is written plainly all over Vegas' face for everyone to see.

Vegas drags his feet, every step is agonising, until he is standing before his father. "I am so sorry, Pa." He whispers in a broken voice. "I am so damn sorry, but I don't have a choice…" Crack.

"Vegas!" His father is crying now, big ugly sobs. This proud strong man has been reduced to begging for his life, he pleads and whimpers and the whole spectacle is just horrifying. Vegas gulps, he wants to look away but can't because if he is about to kill his father, he should have the guts to at least look him in the eyes while doing it.

"Give me a gun already." He whispers hoarsely, glancing at Pete. "Or do you want me to strangle him?" Crack.

The monster positively purrs with delight, but something about all of this makes Vegas wary, as if this isn't all of Pete's plan yet. "No gun." The monster announces gleefully. "It would be over too quickly like that, your father has put you through hell, so his final send off should put him through hell as well, don't you agree?"

Oh God. Vegas' breath hitches. He wants this to be over with. No more cat and mouse games. Oh God. "Don't do this to me, please. I am not like you, I don't want him to suffer. I just want a quick death for him." Crack.

"You are forgetting the whole purpose behind all of this, Vegas." Pete saunters over to his side and affectionately ruffles Vegas sweat drenched hair. "You need to break. So here's how we are going to do it…"

Completely ignoring the ever increasing terrified pleas of the man on the chair, he guides Vegas closer to their victim. Pete is the puppet master at this point, Vegas allows himself to be guided like a puppet on a string, he is growing all numb. Run run run. He wants to hide but there is nowhere he can escape to. Macau, he reminds himself. Macau is all that counts. Crack.

He must have been spacing out because suddenly there is a knife. As far as knives go, it is a beautiful one. A thin dark blade with an intricately carved wooden handle. Pretty. Pete is showing it to him, in the background he can hear his father whimpering, but Vegas is trying to filter that disturbing sound out.

"This is a handcrafted Japanese boning knife, Vegas. The handle is oak wood with a special kind of lacquer that is said to exude a warm sense of intimacy when in contact with the skin, that can almost be likened to the touch of an infant's skin. Can you feel it?" The knife is placed in his hand and since Vegas is so unresponsive, Pete helps him close his fingers around the handle. Yes, it feels good. Heavier than Vegas thought too.

"The blade is white Shirogami steel with a black mirror finish." Pete places his hand over Vegas', guiding him through a few motions, all the while patiently explaining more facts about this knife and Japanese knives in general. He would make a good teacher, Vegas notes, dazed. "Now be careful Vegas, this knife is exceptionally sharp."

"… don't make me do this…" Vegas doesn't even recognise his voice anymore, it sounds so very faint and thin with fear. Crack.

"This is all for your own good, Vegas." Pete tells him softly, guiding his hand until the blade comes to rest light against a thigh clad in expensive beige cloth. "It will be like a rebirth. You are like a beautiful butterfly with crippled wings and I am going to stuff you right back into your cocoon so that you can regenerate and start all over again."

"Oh God…" Vegas is staring at that twitching thigh, the edge of the blade gleaming lethally in the light. Crack. Crack Crack Crack. "Please… I love you… please…"

"I love you too, Vegas." Pete murmurs in his ear, the pressure around his hand increases and Vegas is forced to watch with morbid fascination as the edge of the blade disappears slowly downward into the cloth and what lies beneath. There is next to no resistance, Pete wasn't kidding this knife is extremely sharp.

Blood is welling up from the wound, red hot blood, the metallic scent of it hitting Vegas hard in the face. Red. Red again. He hates red. Why is there so much red in his life? His stomach roils again, and then he flinches hard when his father lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

…Ohgodohgodohgod…

…CRACK CRACK CRACK…

There is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Nowhere but…

Vegas once again, out of sheer desperation, retreats into his mind, battening the hatches. He locks himself into the darkness and the silence, shutting everything and everyone out. And then he finally cracks and breaks, the glue holding him together disintegrating. Vegas shatters into a million pieces, like an exploding firework, the pieces of him burning up as they descend, so pretty.

And then there is just darkness and he is back in his cocoon, immaterial, simply floating.

Time has no meaning here.

The butterfly is regenerating. Chrysalis.

One at a time, the darkness coalescents, forming new ink-black puzzle pieces that lazily float through the void. And when there are so many that the void gets crowded, they start drifting towards another, snapping into place.

Click. Click. Click.

A new Vegas is taking shape, he is transforming, transitioning towards perfection. Everything snaps into place until there is just one last piece missing, a piece that cannot be found here.

Darkness. Silence. And then consciousness returns, and with it thoughts and also …

Drip.
Drip.
Drip.

Vegas' mind should be comfortably black. Like the untouched surface of a lake during a warm summer day without even the slightest breeze. Tranquil. Yet his runaway thoughts skip over its surface like the flat river pebbles he used to collect with …notgoingtherenotgoingthere … skip... skip... skip… leaving disruptive ripples in their wake.

Drip.
Drip.
Drip.

There should be silence yet there is noise. Something is dripping, a never ending monotonous sound that feels like a fingernail slowly being drawn over a chalkboard, with the chalkboard being his raw exposed nerves. And in between…frantic panting? …definitelynotgoingthere … moving on…

Drip.
Drip.
Drip.

The reborn butterfly shudders in its cocoon, overwhelmed by sensations and thoughts as reality starts to intrude into its safe space. Thoughts are going wild, skipping uncontrollably through his mind. The whole process of rebirth is unbelievably painful, the massive panic attack when the cocoon finally cracks and sets him free is jarring. So many thoughts. Nothing is making sense. He is lost, choking, can't breath until…

"Vegas…?" A single soft spoken word slides to the forefront of his consciousness.

There is an unspoken question in this word. A question he cannot pretend not to understand. A question he cannot ignore. Must not ignore.

God.
Damn.
Fucking.
Scarlet.

"Green."

Vegas exhales his reply with a shudder, he does not even recognise his own voice. It is his own voice, isn't it? It sounds so unfamiliar, so … raw? As if he has been crying?

At long last he opens his eyes and is blinded for a moment, blinking. The colours and shapes before him are not making any sense, weaving and blending into each other. That is fine though. This is good. Better this than… clarity. His mind instinctively shies away from following this line of thought any further as the cacophony of colours bleed away to settle into the inevitable more vivid shades of red once again as well as the shape of… notgoingtherenotgoingthere … sonotgoingthere... so he simply refuses to make sense of what he is seeing before him as his vision becomes crystal clear.

"Such a good boy" the silky disembodied voice behind him croons into his ear. He loves that voice, has always loved it. And it makes his heart expand, filling him with such overwhelming gratitude that he aches with it. Vegas sucks in a deep shuddering breath that sounds more like a sob. He is good. He can do this.

As his awareness of his surroundings further sharpens, he feels a weight in his right hand. Long. Hard. The handle already warmed to match his body temperature. Warm, so warm, and he is so hot. Perhaps, when he eventually combusts, the metal will melt, burning through skin and flesh, encasing his very bones.

Skip… more ripples.

Like the Terminator…or Wolverine…

Vegas' grip tightens. He is fine. Everything is fine. He is enveloped in a cloud of rosewood, cinnamon, vanilla and amber. It soothes his frayed nerves, filling him with serenity. It smells like home. It smells like safety. Heat meets heat, warm lips graze his neck playfully with the slightest scrape of teeth.

"Well, what are you waiting for? A written invitation?" Pete teases him mischievously.

Indeed, what is he waiting for? Vegas' dried lips crack and starts oozing blood as they curve into a genuinely happy smile of his own. Everything becomes natural once again, he does not even have to think as he reaches out with his right hand, reverently applies just the right amount of pressure and the sharp edge of the knife sinks into the flesh before him as if it were butter.

Beautiful. It feels amazing. A bit more pressure and the knife hits the bone and he just slides it right along with the curve, like a dance, a waltz of blood and death.

Someone is hugging him from behind, their body heat mingles, and the familiar smell of rosewood and cinnamon gives Vegas a sense of security as the reborn butterfly crawls out of its cocoon amidst softly spoken words of encouragement.

Just what exactly Vegas is cutting into, the hair-raising screams, the stench of blood and something other as death sweeps into the abandoned warehouse …notgoingthere … notgoingthere … DEFINITELYNOTGOINGTHERE… is ruthlessly filtered away.

He is fine.
Everything is fine.
Nothing ever happened.
He is just fine.

And strangely enough, after a while, that turns out to be true. As the reborn butterfly unfolds its wings, it gets easier to breathe. It gets easier to maim. Every cut to the flesh severs a dark memory weighing him down. Free. Free at last.

Eventually Vegas carelessly drops the knife. He is done here. He has closed this chapter of his life, permanently. In a daze, he turns towards the door and walks away from everything. Vegas nearly falls because his bare feet are slipping on the metal floor that is now coated with blood, but then he regains his balance. When did he take off his shoes? Out, he needs to get out and get some fresh air.

Beyond the door, morning has broken, night is turning into day. Vegas walks past the parked car and out into a little meadow. The cool morning breeze feels wonderful, the grass brushes softly against his bare feet. He can hear the birds singing, calling out to each other. What a magnificent morning. Vegas stretches his imaginary wings, preparing to fly, but there is still something missing it seems, he cannot lift off.

He closes his eyes and simply stands there, until he can feel the first rays of dawn warming the skin on his face. When he opens his eyes again, the world is red, and so is he. Vegas is covered with drying blood and strangely enough, he doesn't care. Red is just another colour now, nothing special, nothing to be afraid of. There is this great calm in his mind where there used to be only skipping fluttering chaos, it is so damn refreshing. Taking a deep breath, he sighs. Yes, it is a wonderful morning.

There are footsteps behind him, approaching slowly. Vegas just basks in the sun and waits patiently. Closer, closer… soon the small hairs on the back of his neck rise and he can sense the body heat of the person coming to stand right behind him.

He still doesn't move, his patience is endless.

Eventually, the person behind him tentatively leans his head against the space between Vegas' shoulder blades and exhales a shuddering breath.

"You never took Macau, right?" This question is merely a formality, he has already figured out everything, but Vegas asks anyways.

He can feel Pete shaking his head without breaking their body contact. "Of course not." Pete mumbles against his back. "I promised I would never touch him; he is your brother after all, I know how much you love him."

"You are such an asshole." Vegas scolds him, but without any heat. Thing is, he gets it, he understands why Pete has been doing all this. Getting angry about it now serves no purpose, it would be just a waste of energy.

They stand there for a while, Vegas enjoying the dawn and the incredible peace that has descended on him.

"There is a water hose beside the warehouse, we should probably clean up, dried blood is a pain in the ass to scrub off." Pete informs him quietly after a while. He is very subdued, almost as if he is waiting for something. Is he worried that Vegas will lash out at him now to make him pay for this? After pondering for a minute, Vegas decides he doesn't feel like punishing Pete, surprisingly enough there is no anger within him. Just this great glorious calm.

"Yes, we should probably do that. Lead the way?" And then Vegas turns around, looks at Pete and it knocks the breath out of him. The warm rays of the morning light bath Pete in golden hues; wherever the light touches him, his skin seems to be glowing. His hair and eyes are still impossibly dark, and there is blood splatter all over his face, but Vegas sees past that, it is an unimportant detail right now. Pete is so beautiful, Vegas has never seen a more handsome man in his life. Especially when those expressive lips of his slowly curl into a smile and those dimples make an appearance too. Just… wow. Vegas swallows, his mouth suddenly dry.

Their eyes meet and goosebumps erupt all over Vegas' body. He feels like a cat in a sea of catnip, he is getting high simply by looking his fill. And while he is still staring, dumbstruck and feeling like a smitten teenager, the object of his infatuation gives him a bemused look and then turns around and walks away, back towards the warehouse.

Wait a second.

Vegas needs a moment to catch his breath. This was a bit unexpected, somehow this feels like falling in love all over again, and that is damn confusing. His heart is singing, completely off key, but whatever… Vegas is having a momenthere, and it is mind-boggling. He just killed his father, for heavens sake!

And holy shit, how come he is so utterly calm about that, too? Shouldn't he be feeling differently? Shouldn't he be a ball of misery, hating himself, with guilt eating away at him? Stunned, Vegas closes his eyes, sorting through his feelings at this very moment. Nothing? Really? How is this even possible? He brutally murdered his own father and he has no regrets? No wait, there is an emotion and it is… grim satisfaction? All those horrible days locked up in the cellar. The vicious beatings he took. Being forcefully separated from his little brother. Oh yes…as far as he is concerned, his father had it coming. And just like that, Vegas shrugs that line of thought off, and opens his eyes again. Now where did his little golden sunflower go?

Vegas ambles towards the warehouse again, whistling softly to himself. They really are in the middle of nowhere, no neighbours or streets in sight. What a lovely part of the countryside. He follows the sound of splashing water, rounds the corner of the building and stops because he needs to take a moment. Well, hello there… he found his sunflower. There is indeed a water hose and Pete is currently using it to wash the blood from his hair. The shirt he was wearing before now lies discarded on the ground, his bare upper body glistening in shimmering golden hues that the sun paints on his skin.

Vegas mouth goes dry. Perfection. So damn beautiful. Mesmerised, he strolls closer. Pete is humming to himself, eyes closed as he shampoos his hair and then uses the hose to rinse it. And when he opens his eyes again, Vegas is standing just a short distance away from him, just out of the spray. Again, Pete teases him with a dimpled smile that makes the butterflies in his stomach go wild. Yes, Vegas is definitely having a moment here, he is hopelessly besotted. It is absurd, he has fallen all over in love again with this man before him, but this time there are no doubts, no reservations, there is just total acceptance.

Down to earth as usual, and entirely unaware of Vegas' ongoing emotional epiphany, Pete points to the plastic bottle on the grass beside him. "Here is shampoo, you can use it as body wash as well. I brought a fresh change of clothes for both of us too, they are in th…"

Let's get physical, physical
I wanna get physical, physical...

Vegas pounces and the hose goes flying, spraying them both with water. Pete yelps, but is immediately silenced by Vegas kissing him hungrily and the usual sparks between them ignite, setting them both on fire.

Click - the last puzzle piece slots into place. Vegas' metamorphosis is complete, the puzzle pieces are fusing together, never to be separated again.

They probably shouldn't be doing this right now but neither of them gives a damn. Pete more or less rips the shirt off Vegas so that the buttons go flying in all directions, his enthusiasm causing Vegas to laugh breathlessly. The water makes the grass slippery, one false step, and they both go down in a heap of legs and arms as they loose their balance. But not even that can stop them, they continue to kiss eagerly while peeling each other out of their remaining clothes.

Pete's hands and mouth are seemingly everywhere; they are rolling across the grass, Vegas grips the curve of Pete's ass, digging his fingernails into the flesh and hears Pete's low moan, which is music to his ears. Too quiet though, he wages he can get a louder reaction out of Pete, and so he gives that ass a brisk slap. Surprised, Pete cries out and then immediately bites his lower lip, and the expression on his flushed face is priceless.

Vegas grins, finds Pete's nipple and twists. His boyfriend gives a sharp groan, a hard shudder running through his entire body. "You like that?" Vegas asks him softly. Pete answers by grabbing the back of his head, sinking his fingers into Vegas' hair, and yanks him in for an open-mouthed kiss with a lot of tongue. Vegas approves.

And the madness continues. Vegas needs this so badly, he needs a clean cut from all the pain and hurt they have caused each other in the past. This is a fresh start for both of them, their new beginning. Every touch, every kiss is his promise to Pete to love him, always and unconditionally. His own pleasure becomes secondary, this is about pleasing Pete, making Pete feel desired and most important of all, loved. Because he loves this man from the bottom of his heart, with his whole soul, and he needs Pete to understand this.

I love you. Vegas reverently kisses and licks the faded bite scar on Pete's neck.

I cherish you. Crawling on top of Pete, his mouth latches onto one of his nipples. He knows how sensitive they are, and soon Pete is a moaning shuddering mess as Vegas lavishes those nipples with attention, sucking and biting them.

You complete me. Vegas' mouth starts travelling down Pete's chest, scraping his teeth over the muscles of the abdomen, stopping to give a little nip now and then because that causes Pete to buck against him with a strangled hiss, which is delightful.

You are the most important person in my life. Pete is starting to breathe faster, Vegas can feel his hard muscles tensing under Vegas' tongue as he licks his way further downward, marking him with a hickey now and then.

You are my soulmate. Pete groans loudly and writhes, his fingers digging aimlessly into the grass when Vegas closes his fist around Pete's cock and strokes him, moving roughly up and down.

I love you so much. Pete's eyes slide close with bliss and he cries out hoarsely when at last Vegas wraps his lips around Pete's cock, taking him into his mouth. Vegas is teasing him expertly, mixing pleasure with the pain Pete is craving, until Pete throws his head back, his neck corded with strain, shouting so loudly that all the birds in the surrounding trees take to flight as he comes.

In the aftermath of it all, when Pete starts crying because all this love he is showered with feels too overwhelming, Vegas lovingly kisses those tears from his face as well.

And only then Vegas takes care of his own needs. He pushes Pete's legs wide, spreading him, and then wedges his own aching erection inside of him. Tight, so damn tight, but the pressure is still bearable. Pete exhales a hissing breath, involuntarily tensing up, Vegas knows this must be painful, and so he gives him some time to adjust.

They are staring at each other wordlessly. Bathed in the morning sun, Vegas can see Pete's eyes aren't as black as he always thought, there are tiny specks of brown and gold dancing around his dilated pupils. Beautiful. So beautiful.

Vegas tentatively starts to rock against Pete, who shivers and responds by wrapping his legs around Vegas' waist. After all this foreplay and teasing, holding back is proving more and more difficult. Vegas' body constricts with need, he shudders breathlessly and arches a questioning eyebrow at Pete, who simply nods.

With a sigh of relief, Vegas withdraws almost completely, and then rams his throbbing cock back into Pete. Yes! Both of them groan, and then Vegas is no longer holding back at all, thrusting hard and fast. Pete's fingernails must be leaving deep scratch marks on Vegas' back; to protect himself Vegas grabs his wrists and presses them into the grass and then they are kissing once more, deep frantic kisses that stifle the increasingly loud noises Pete is making.

Vegas breathing is getting shallower in between grunts, his thrusts more erratic. He comes with a broken yell, collapsing all his weight on Pete, and then just shivers and shudders until the quivering tension in his muscles is finally easing.

"I love you." Pete mumbles tiredly and Vegas' mouth curves into an exhausted smile.

"I love you too." Vegas buries his face against Pete's neck, breathing in the scent of his skin.

Too worn out to move, they rest in each other's arms on the soft damp grass. The air smells of warm earth and sex, Vegas can hear the leaves rustling in the nearby trees and the water that is still trickling from the hose. Occasionally a butterfly flutters past them, and a lone shimmering dragonfly zips through their field of vision.

"Before I forget…" Pete stretches and reaches out to his discarded clothes to fish something out of the pocket of his pants, handing it to Vegas. "What do you want to do with this? Shall I dispose of it?"

It is a ring; solid gold and quite valuable, or so Vegas has been told all his life. Blood has seeped into the engraved Theerapanyakul coat of arms and dried there.

"The King is dead…" Pete remarks quietly, resting his head against Vegas' shoulder. Both of them look thoughtfully at the golden signet ring that Vegas is holding up, shimmering and glittering in the sunshine, marred by the darkish blood specks.

Vegas remembers his humiliating wheelchair journey through the main family mansion. The way everyone looked at him as if he were the scum of the earth, just because he belongs to the minor family.

Major family.
Minor family.

What a load of bullshit. Time for a change.

"Long live the King…" Vegas says softly, slowly slipping the golden ring onto the index finger of his left hand. It is a perfect fit, as if it were made for him. And surprisingly enough it is not nearly as heavy as he always imagined it to be. "… and sunshine, you should see me in a crown."