A/N: First of all I should apologize for the delay. It's true that I never promised to update more often than once in two weeks, but I would have certainly liked to. Real-life happened: an essay was due last Friday, so that had to be written first. With that now over though, I can get back to ACF.

Note that this chapter is a bit different. You might hate it, you might love it; tell me what you think of it in a review, because, as always, reviews are most welcome!

Further, I thank CullenBlack1986, Lineia and petereed for their reviews! They are very much appreciated! I also thank those that added the story to their list of favourites or started following this story.

Finally, as ever, a "thank you" to dantemalfoy, Jonathan and Lineia for beta-ing and providing comments.

Warnings: Angst, drama, mild erotica and slashy/kinky fantasies.

Chapter 5: The long road

"Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion, simultaneously the source of your greatest strength, and your greatest weakness." – The Architect (From The Matrix: Reloaded)

Edward kept trudging along the road, thoughts milling around angrily in his tired head. Fact is he didn't really know where he was going. After all, he had never tried to go to the reservation before, knowing that if his father found out, he would nail him to floor. The dark night and overall lack of streetlights didn't make his search much easier. And thus he stumbled onwards down the long road; hungry, thirsty, cold and tired.

His shivering had slowly subsided. With every step he took, he sunk more and more into his memories of the past few months. His summer had been a whirlwind of discoveries, all culminating in that fateful evening with that beautiful, young native: Jacob.

Jacob

The name and the thought of that body brought a weak smile to Edward's face. He paused for a moment as he stared up at the clouds, snowflakes collecting on his eyebrows as he gazed at the dark night sky. Edward didn't feel the cold snow that was blanketing his face, though. He didn't see the clouds from which the snow was falling, nor did he see the darkness of the night that enveloped those clouds. Edward had closed his eyes as soon as he had tilted his face upwards, spreading his arms, like he had done a few months ago when he and his siblings had left Gaya. He had gazed at the setting sun and welcomed its endless warmth, his eyes closed and his arms spread, as if to soak up the rays of warmth. A tingling sensation of relaxation permeated his muscles.

He wasn't at Gaya now. He was standing along a road, at night. His muscles weren't relaxing in the rays of a warm, summer sun in the last hour of its trek along the North American skies. No, his muscles were cold and cramped. The tingling sensation Edward felt was not of relaxation, but of pain. Soon Edward retracted his arms, letting them fall and hang loosely along his body, his head drooping down. The snow that had accumulated on his eyebrows fell off his face and landed in front of his feet, to mix into anonymity with the snow that had gathered at his feet.

He continued walking. There really wasn't anything else he could do. Realizing the spare clothing tucked under his arm, he decided to take out the shirt and put it on. Two layers were warmer than one layer, after all. And so he did, carefully buttoning his shirt from bottom to top as, once upon a time, his father had shown him.

After having walked for about a mile, he finally reached a sign. Apparently he was going somewhat in the right direction: a big arrow pointing upwards and the name of the reservation in big white letters on a green background signalled his destination was up ahead. Unfortunately it didn't give an estimate of the distance. Edward assumed it couldn't be more than a few miles away, but even that meant he would be walking for a while. So he kept going – after all, there wasn't much else to do.

As he stumbled along, leaving the sign behind him, his mind returned to its earlier ruminations. Of all discoveries of those last few months, yesterday night's experience was the most intriguing and satisfying, and in more ways than one. Before he had always looked at men and wondered how it would be to do them. Everything had been purely theoretical; his fantasies were a fabrication of his teenage mind; every self-made orgasm an ill-equipped replacement for the real thing. Now he had finally done it.

For real.

Edward was amazed by how it had felt. How it had been to fuck a guy. It truly was the most intimate connection he could imagine with another human being. A smile wriggled itself onto Edward's face when he thought back at how it had all gone down, starting with the kissing at the bar. How Jacob had nudged him to the coat rack and out the door, under the cheering of his native mates. How they stumbled to the car, wildly groping each other….

Edward sighed. He remembered painfully well how he had launched Jacob into that metal piece of shit that he'd called "his car". Jacob's surprised smirk, as he landed onto the soft yet torn back seat, had been etched into his brain with a smouldering iron. His smirk had broadened when he had climbed onto Jacob and closed the door behind them, so that they were completely on their own, cut off from the world – disconnected from the hate, the prejudice and loathing that frequently came their way; his way. In that car, there was no father. There was no mother. There were no siblings; no homophobic family of any kind. And he had felt free. Finally, for the first time in his life….

He had felt free.

Edward shuddered as the notion dawned on him that during that time, on that cramped back seat, he had been able to enjoy being who he really was. The shackles on his mind loosened, his animal had been released; an animal that had murkily walked the lining of its cage, slowly growing mad with the torture of not being let out. It grew desperate, launching itself at the bars of its small prison, hoping to fight its way out. It never succeeded.

And now, the door to its cage had been opened. The animal, shy at first, had peaked outside. The sunlight stung its eyes, still used to the dark interior of captivity. It had sniffed the air. Carefully, it stuck its head out and looked around. One paw was placed on the cold earth, and when it became clear that this was not a joke, it hungrily launched outside, and sank his claws into the delightful flesh of man.

The delightful flesh of Jacob.

And so he was back in that car, kissing Jacob voraciously, penetrating his mouth with his famished tongue. Jacob had more than reciprocated, fuelling Edward's lust, lighting up his fire until it became a blaze.

In that blaze, the animal took control. Edward smirked at the recollection of tangling Jacob's hands in the seat belt, slapping him harshly in the face and threatening him with pain if he dared to rebel against his rule. He had loved to hold Jacob roughly by the hair and force him to suck him off with increasing speed; then face fuck him so that his throbbing limb painfully thumped against the back wall of Jacob's warm and moist little mouth. He had adored Jacob's pained whine and the grimaces on his face as he bit him harshly all over his body.

Edward distinctly remembered Jacob's groaning, moaning and whining. The meagre whimpering that he had produced when Edward fingered him in a painful yet blissful way had made Edward harder than anything he had done before. Seeing how Jacob suffered under his rough hand had been the thrill of a lifetime – a thrill he wasn't prepared to give up on anytime soon. He felt how his heart burned in his chest with a growing desire to keep doing this; to keep paining people for his and their sexual pleasure.

A smile broke the clouds on Edward's face as he recalled how Jacob's body had shuddered with an exquisite kind of delightful pain as Edward had penetrated him. The fingering had prepared Jacob's hole, hot for attention, but he had made sure to surprise Jacob when he slid into him, the cold lube sensitizing Jacob's entrance as he had agonizingly moaned under the pressure of Edward's well-endowed body.

What he had enjoyed most of all in that fucking frenzy might not have been the actual fucking itself, though. For before Edward had actually entered him, Jacob had looked at him intensely, softly gulping at the expectation of pain that was about to shoot up to his delirious mind. His rebellious grin had disappeared at that point. He was breezing quietly, but he wasn't relaxed. His muscles were tense, as if he prepared himself; nay braced himself for impact.

His eyes had been especially revealing: they had sent the signal that had truly gotten Edward going. Because when Edward stared into those deep, brown eyes, he saw submission. A deep wish for Edward to recognize that he, Jacob, was prepared to do anything to make Edward happy, including endure the pain that Edward's sadism would bring upon him. When Jacob had looked at him like that both their cocks had been hard, and were twitching with an unadulterated excitement.

However, it wasn't only this deep wish to fully submit to Edward and relinquish all control that Edward had seen in Jacob's glistening eyes. It had been submission and something else; something that had newly appeared in Jacob's expression. Edward had recognized it immediately, and he had felt his cock twitch from sadistic pleasure upon seeing that something in Jacob's eyes: fear. Jacob's submissive sparkle had intertwined with a flash of angst that made Edward only more determined to fuck Jacob's brains out. At the end of it, Edward had proclaimed to himself, submissive fear was the only thing that he wanted to see in those eyes.

Edward smiled to himself when he remembered the fearful void in those eyes when they both had come, panting and content with the whirlwind of emotions that had blasted through their brains.

As Edward's thoughts pulled him through the memories, he could feel how he had become hard once again. He looked around nervously, but all was silent. The road was completely deserted, save for the snow crowding the black tarmac. He then descended down the side of the road, into the forest and found himself a sheltered spot behind some bushes, next to a large pine tree. Even though he had started shivering again, he sat down on the cold earth, and rashly unbuttoned his pants, opening his zipper with a desperate yank. He slid a hand inside.

He leaned against the tree trunk as he caressed himself, his head thrown backward against the tree. His eyes were closed and his mouth involuntarily opened when his mind reran through the events of last night. He groped himself ever harder, jerking off with increasing speed as his excited mind relived the memories. As he went further down the path of relief, he gripped his sac with his other hand, which until then had been uselessly lying on the ground, and caused himself a twinge of pain as he gently squeezed his balls.

So Edward sat in the forest, the cold night trying to battle its way back into Edward's thoughts. Alas, they were too hot; the icy frost melted as it touched the fiery memories, fuelled by the burning passion of the guys featuring in them. Their joined physical forms rocked back and forth, enveloped by the squeaking of the rickety car. They were oblivious to it. All they heard was each other's moaning, groaning, whining, and the thumping of an excited heartbeat that was spurred into the next gear by the fervent fire that blazed through their intoxicated minds.

Edward came with a soft groan and remained panting against the tree trunk, the memories fading away again in the dark depth of his mind, allowing the night to sneak back in. Edward shuddered. He cleaned himself as best he could, closed the zipper and buttoned his pants. He stood up, and went back to the road, to continue on his way: continue forward, so that he could go back to Jacob and relive his memories for real.

As much as Edward had loved dominating Jacob and had had the feeling that he was expressing some of his deepest desires, there was something a bit off-putting, even troubling, in all of it. He had always known himself as the nice kid from the villa; the kid that was at school on time, that cooked dinner once a week, that went to art class, that did his homework to the best of his abilities and always tried to be friendly to everybody.

And here he suddenly was: wilfully causing pain to this beautiful human being. No, in a way it was worse: it wasn't just wilfully causing pain; it actually aroused him too! It had felt unnervingly good, unnervingly great even. By all means, Edward had never in his life enjoyed something so much! The appetizing fear in Jacob's eyes had given him a raging hard-on.

No doubt that he was expressing his deepest desires. It had felt natural: an ancient, intensely primal feeling which he seemingly knew extremely well and fit him like a glove, as if he was reunited with a great friend – yet they were desires that he was blatantly unaware of. Even if they felt ancient and like they belonged to him like nothing else, he had never felt them before, nor known of their existence. Since when did he love causing pain so much? Since when did he long to dominate like that? Where had this dark side suddenly come from?

How did I become such a… sadist?

People always say that a lot of our behaviours originate in the way we were brought up. If that were true, then this tendency for sadism had come from somewhere, though he was at a loss for its precise origin. Really, his childhood had been good, all things considered. The only thing that he might not have always agreed with was….

His father.

Edward clenched his fists in his pockets with anger when the image of the pale face with the bloodshot eyes appeared before him. He thought back to the activities in Jacob's car. Yes, Edward had loved the domination. It felt like a life-long wish had finally been fulfilled, an eternal yearning and lust for power satisfied – a power to give commands, make demands, and punish if they weren't satisfactorily met. And punishing was the best of all. Oh, all the things he could have done to Jacob….

Edward became hard again as he fantasised about the locations and strengths of slapping, smacking, hitting, beating, whipping, and flogging that he could have subjected Jacob to, though he hadn't done any of it that night. For one, Edward didn't have any of these toys or tools besides his own, human hands, let alone have any of such toys with him that night. Really, it was only during that night that Edward had found out about the extent of his sadistic tendencies and had started thinking about it.

But, Jacob had also been a good boy. He really hadn't had much reason to punish him. With some luck, he wouldn't be good next time, in which case Edward would be able to do to him whatever he so desired. He could already hear Jacob's yelp and the sound of a whip on Jake's tight ass as he hit him roughly. He lustfully licked his lips at the prospect, the thought provoking a sadistic grin. First, though, he would need to fancy himself some toys.

That is, if there were to be a next time.

The thought catapulted Edward back into his misery, as the veil of fantasies was suddenly lifted and he found himself along the night-covered road to the reservation.

There must be a next time.

Edward sighed. In that car, he, Edward, had been in control; not his father, with his multitude of religious views that systematically cut Edward off from anything and everything he truly cared about. Was that it then? Had his father's all-encompassing control of his life and being set the stage for his sadistic stirrings and domineering demeanour?

What did this mean? Had his father inadvertently turned him into a domineering sadist? Hadn't he really always been like that, in a sense? He distinctly remembered the delight of tearing wings of insects, or how he used to smash every plant he came across when he and his parents went out for a walk in the forest, back when he was just a toddler. No, he had always had the seed of sadism sown inside him, just waiting to sprout and grow into a full-grown plant, rich with thorns. However, his father had been the one to water the seeds, to nurture them with fertilizer and tend them lovingly, come spring, summer, autumn or winter. He had always been there, ready for them to sprout.

Father

His thoughts trailed off to more pleasant memories with the family, which didn't help to set his mood straight. He breathed heavily as he continued his walk until finally he stopped, took a deep breath, and continued. For now he would wash away, or at least restrain the thoughts about his parents. He would deal with them later, after he'd sorted out things and got himself a place to stay, even if only for a short while. The same went for the troubling thoughts regarding his domineering and sadistic desires: under lock and key they all went.

Jacob under lock and key… Edward thought, and couldn't help but smile. Realizing how his thoughts went astray again, he regained himself and focused on the long road in front of him.

The snowing had become lighter and a few clouds seemingly dispersed. Some weak, flickering lights appeared in the murky night sky. Edward gazed up at them. The stars. It was soothing that behind all the grey misery that rained down upon him there was also beauty. It gave him some hope as he glanced back at the long road before him, empty, wet and cold. Perhaps at the end of that long road was also a light – small and flickering, like a candle in the wind, but still a light.

"Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion…."

The words of the Architect, the grand master of the Matrix, echoed in his head.

"…simultaneously the source of your greatest strength, and your greatest weakness."

Edward couldn't do but feel that the guy was right. Here he was, hungry, thirsty and cold, trekking to a place he had never been at, just to find the guy with whom he had had some amazing sex – and for what? He didn't really know Jacob. He knew he was a flirt, that he liked to be dominated, and that he lived on the reservation; that was pretty much it. He didn't even know what to ask from Jacob. A place to stay? Another fuck? The fragile candle, flickering in the wind, seemed entirely out of reach to him.

And still.

Without hope Edward might as well end it all, like he had already thought he might do when he was lying on his parents' driveway. Perhaps, that's what he ought to do…. He didn't even really remember why he had stood up anyway, back when he was on his parents' driveway. He had imagined some misplaced feelings of affection for Jacob, a misleading glimmer of hope that he could help him out of this shit. Could he really do that though?

Edward slowly considered the question. It hit him that this point was a lot better than he first had thought; for what could Jacob in fact do for him? After all, he was just another high school kid – though a very well built one, there was no denying that. That was it though.

Edward had a hard time coming up with anything that would make Jacob a suitable candidate to ask for help. Really, he wasn't even a good friend of his. Come to think of it, he really didn't have any close friends at all…. His father's control and religious zealotry had managed to keep people somewhat at a distance from the Cullen family, and so Edward had to be content with just that: his family.

How ironic: the only thing he had was his family and endless libido, it seemed. The first one he lost forever, the second couldn't buy him clothing, food….

Or could it?

Edward shook his head, as if to try and fling the notion out of his head. He was definitely not going down that road. Homeless and hungry as he was, he still maintained his pride and self-respect; he wasn't about to sell his body to stay alive. Even if that thought was quickly disposed of, it didn't answer another question: what did he have in life, except for… his life?

If he were to end his life, what would he lose? For all he knew, there really wasn't that much to lose further, at this point. His family probably wouldn't miss him. From what he gathered, he was already dead to them anyway, and since he didn't have any good friends, there was nobody beside his family to care for his death.

So Edward's hope quickly diminished, sliding down a seemingly endless pit filled with blackness up to its brim. With every click of the gears of his mind, depression and self-loathing filled him ever more. Finally, the clicking of the gears slowly started to slow down by the heavy weight of the miserable thoughts bound to them. Ultimately they ground to a halt entirely, their motion stopped by the dark veil of depression engulfing and sickening the last morsels of consciousness that were performing their task properly. His mind was left without thoughts of hope and light, the only ones remaining being of a kind of stormy sadness, infused with sarcastic sorrow.

As his conscious thinking came to a stop, concomitantly a shrouding tiredness pervaded his body, compelling his muscles to discontinue their movement: he hauled himself ever slower on the long road to the reservation. Soon, meters felt like feet, and feet felt like inches. It seemed endless. He gazed forwards and saw nothing but the darkness of the night. He looked backwards and saw only the blackness of his recent past, shattered memories blanketing the road. He was getting nowhere, for a reason he couldn't even remember. Why torture himself like this? Though he was a sadist, he was no masochist.

"Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion." Full stop. There is no strength in hope, only weakness.

Upon having that thought launch into his conscious mind, he stopped walking. He gazed forward aimlessly, shoulders hanging from the desperate tiredness that, after forcing his muscles to stop, now hit him in the face like a bus hits a cat on a busy New York City avenue. He sighed.

I give up.

Edward slumped down next to a pine tree surrounded by a few bushes. He sat there, panting with the whirlwind that was his thoughts. He leaned his head back and let the blizzard of his memories overtake him, closing his eyes as if to feel them to their fullest extent. The cold wind and snow battered his aching body as fervently as ever. His feet and hands were numbing; so was his nose, which was red and lifeless. Snow covered his aching body as it crept towards the final edge of life. Edward could feel that the end was nigh – and it better be: prolonging the suffering wasn't Edward's style.

There won't be sex. There won't be hotness. There won't be Jacob. There won't be friends. There won't be family.

With every facet of his life that seemingly disappeared into the cold, calm waters of oblivion, his thoughts quieted down, like an engine spinning down to full stop.

There won't be a future.

As his mind was being emptied from the tumultuous content that had run rampant within since the night before, all that was left was an eerie quietness, a heavy silence, seemingly eternally lasting in its dreaded darkness.

There won't be a life.

A/N: Next chapter should come within a few days, for I don't wish to leave you guys hanging like this… even though the sadist in me kind of enjoys it ;-)