9 comments/ 17178 views/ 21 favorites Charcoal By: Lillywriting This story is not all in one piece, not is there sex in the beginning- so if that is what you are looking for, look elsewhere. I am still very new at writing, but want to get better so any feedback is welcome! I hope you enjoy. * Soul was born silent. The doctors were worried when he refused to scream when they first blew in his face, then slapped his tiny bottom. He simply watched everything with wide, bright green eyes, and didn't utter a sound until he was nearly five. He was considered to be a bit slow, but he could read, he devoured books and wrote with a steady hand from the moment he could get his hand on a pen. His drawings were as haunting as they were beautiful. Soul didn't speak consistently until he met Michelle and David, twins who moved in across the street. He was fourteen years old. When Soul began high school it was only with Michelle and David at his side that he made it through the day. If one or the other were not at school for the day, he could immediately leave and go home. Soul was fairly intelligent, both book smart and possessing common sense, but school and social interactions couldn't hold his interest. Teachers often realized that their time was better spent ignoring the odd, quiet boy. He slipped though the seams, but never far enough for it to make a difference. He sat in the back of classes and drew, never raising a hand or speaking, but somehow passing each test. David and Michelle together were Soul's rock. They were inseparable, the three stooges. It was an odd group, none of them particularly outgoing, or into similar things, but none seeming to be able to function without the others. It was because of this that it had ever occurred to Soul that when high should come to an end, they would not go to the same university. Michelle sang, and David played piano, and Soul drew, he assumed they would all be going to the Art Institute, but when April first came along the news dropped like a bomb. "I got into Cornell! I'm going to study genetics, see how we can fix so may of these diseases, I don't understand how I got in but I'm definitely going to go!" David was so excited. He had almost gotten hit by a car on his way across the street to share the news. Soul didn't say a word. "Hey, don't use up all the air," Michelle shoved her twin, "David isn't the only ivy bound Greene, I am going Cornell too! We both got in, maybe because we are twins and they want to do experiments on us, but still I can't wait" Soul was stunned. Devastated. How was he going to survive without them? "Well say something." Michelle was the more perspective of the two, and realized that Soul's silence was more than his more than his usual quietness. "You aren't going to the Institute?" Soul's voice was hardly audible. They had never discussed this but he had always assumed. Always he had assumed they would be together. "Well no- You are so good at drawing, I've had nightmares about what you draw, I just play what other people compose, it isn't some great talent, dude, like I can't make a living. I thought you knew I wanted to go to Cornell." David took a step toward Soul; maybe to give him a hug, Soul took a step back. He felt a lump of graphite begin to compress in his heart. A little more heat, a little more time, pressure and maybe I would have a diamond. He though. Maybe he could sell it, sell his heart, he wasn't really using it. Then he couldn't lose it; it couldn't be broken. "Oh Soul, you didn't really think that we would be here with you forever did you?" Michelle ignored Soul's body language and wrapped her arms around him. "You had to know that one day we would all get married, all have families and move away from here. All end up in different places. We will come visit." "But you will be together. Both of you at Cornell. I won't know anyone here." Soul hadn't used to mind being alone. He used to crave it. But ever since four years ago when the moving van had opened and the almost identical boy and girl had run across the street to look at Soul's chalk on the sidewalk he hadn't wanted to go back to that completely silent world. "You'll meet people, you just have to say something, most people like to hear themselves so it won't take much to get them going." David indicated his sister, who in turn elbowed him in the ribs. But by this time Soul was ignoring them. If they weren't going to be there with him later, he might as well get used to them being gone now. "Hey, don't be mad now." Michelle tightened her hold, Soul leaned his head on her shoulder, but in his head he had already begun his life without the twins. The rest of senior year passed in a blur, without his rock Soul floated even more than he had before meeting the twins. His notebooks contained next to no words, only sketches of empty landscapes, abstract swirls that almost looked like watching eyes and flourishing scrawls of the alphabet, repeated until each letter blended into the next, losing all meaning. "You will be fine Sweetie, I know you will." Soul's mother kissed him on the cheek after she finished making the bed in the tiny dorm. His roommate still hadn't arrived and Soul couldn't help but hope he would never arrive. "Please stay," he whispered. "What was that Sweetie?" Soul shook his head. He couldn't make his mother stay with him. He had gotten used to being alone. Or he told himself so. Michelle and David had left earlier in the month for orientation. Soul sat on what would be his new bed for the next year at least, it was hard, and lumpy, and laid out his new sketchbook. He couldn't think what to draw. Finally he was somewhere where drawing was what was expected of him and he had nothing to draw from, no muse, no imagination. Flopping on his back Soul watched other new and returning students find their rooms and lug their stuff through the un-air-conditioned halls, laughing with each other and calling out to old friends. It looked so easy for them. He didn't see anyone who looked nearly as lost as he felt. "Hey! I guess you're my roomie, I'm Jon." The door banged open and a tall gangly boy with a shock of orange and yellow hair stood in the door pulling two huge suitcases behind him. Soul looked at him silently. "I'm a theatre major, I hope you don't mind musicals, I really love the music from a lot of them, though I really hate dancing, so I haven't really auditioned for any recently. What do you think you are going to major in? Oh drawing maybe, or are you just planning, so painting? Do you like acrylics or oils better, I like the look of oil paints, but even if I could draw, I mean paint, I would have to use acrylic cause I'm so clumsy I would get it all over me-" the boy had to pause to take a breath. "Sorry, I keep talking, I'm just really nervous. I've never been on my own before." This was nervous? Soul wondered if he had ever spoken so many words. "I'm Soul, I like drawing, and I hate paints." Even that was a pretty long sentence for someone he didn't know. "Awesome name, my name's pretty lame compared to that. I'm just named for my grandfather. Where'd your name come from?" Soul blushed. He didn't know how to do this small talk thing, but Jon had begun to put his clothes away in the drawers left open by Soul's mom, and talking to his back wasn't as hard as to his face. "My dad, well I never knew him, I don't know if my mom really did either- she said when I was born I looked at everything like I could see its soul. So..." No stranger had ever gotten that story, even as bare bones as that telling was. But Jon didn't feel like a stranger. He felt like a friend. Almost more than David and Michelle. They were steady, but Jon felt real. "That's amazing, you do have intense eyes. If I could paint, I would want to paint them." Jon looked right into Soul's eyes, then blushed. "Well I can't so I guess it doesn't matter does it. Wanna go and see if the dining hall has anything decent to eat?" The first week passed amazingly painlessly, even though Michelle only texted once, and David not at all. Soul assumed they were busy and spent all his time getting to know the campus with Jon. Even though it was close to home the campus was like a world of its own. Even though he didn't speak more than a few words with anyone other than Jon, he felt like he was somewhere he could belong, for the first time in his life. It felt like he was living in a cliché, an artist among artists, finally home. But it was wonderful. He smiled at the leaves and the sculptures scattered among the buildings. He even didn't mind the bland dining hall food. The only problem was he couldn't draw. He tried to sketch every day, but nothing would come. His pencil was frozen above the page. He even tried to do the dull exercises some of his high school teachers had recommended, but not classically trained his attempts to draw from observation were horribly amateur and shaky. All too soon the fun was over and the work was to begin. "I have Freshman Writing first, what do you have?" Not only was Jon an amazingly bubbly person, he was also an early riser, and a morning person. Soul looked at the other boy over his coffee and shrugged, he pushed his schedule across the slightly sticky dining hall table. "Ooh you have the same- oh you have a different one, I have Shakespeare and you have, well Art History? I didn't know you could have that as a Writing Lab." Jon also had the tendency of thinking out loud. "Well you can." Soul took another sip of his coffee. His stomach hurt, so he probably shouldn't be drinking coffee, but a 9:00 am class was just too cruel to face without caffeine. "Then I have Calculus. Eww I hate math. Then tomorrow I don't have any class Wednesday I have more Writing Lab then I have more Calc, then-" "You know I won't remember this right?" Soul rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock on the wall. "We should probably get to class, meet you for lunch?" He stood without waiting for an answer and wandered toward his class. He had met the professor on an admitted students weekend and had gotten the impression she was a bit of a hard-ass and really didn't want to be late on the first day. "Hello, welcome." The professor began three minutes till nine, Soul had been right to be a bit early. "I know the vast majority of you did not come here with the intention of writing many essays, but writing is a skill that everyone needs to master. Those of us who want to earn a living through our art will often find ourselves begging for money. I say this not because I am trying to discourage you, but because in order to do this, you need to be able to describe your art and intentions in an articulate and compelling way. The best way to practice this is to describe other's art." She brought up a PowerPoint with a photo of a shattered window. "We will begin by describing this beautiful window. I say we because I will be doing the assignment with you, we will be grading my description so you will have an idea what I am looking for. I will give you five minutes. Begin." The class was not at all what Soul was imagining but he realized that he loved it. The Professor was smart and funny, but sure what she wanted from her students. Soul left the class glowing and almost ready to sign up for more writing classes. He couldn't wait to tell Jon about it. But when he found Jon in the dining hall the other boy seemed less than ready to hear what Soul had to say. "Oh my she was so ugly, and she wants to be Juliet? I would be more likely to get the part!" A handsome boy was lying across the table in front of Jon, who was laughing. "She wasn't that bad." But the look on his face told another story. "Don't lie." It was a girl, sitting across from Jon. Sitting on either side of her were another girl and boy. "She is the ugliest thing you have ever seen in your life, her eyes were totally different sizes and different heights." "She did have a nice voice." Said the boy. "She could be in the chorus maybe," said the other girl. "I heard they are doing Wicked in the spring." Said the boy on the table. "Maybe she could be Elphaba, no- even she's supposed to be kinda pretty." The whole group laughed, Soul could feel his high slipping. Still he had to eat. "Hi." He spoke so softly he almost didn't think they would hear him. "Hey Soul!" At least Jon looked genuinely glad to see him, the others seemed a bit upset there hate-fest had been interrupted. "This is my roomie Soul, awesome name right? Anyway these guys are some of my fellow majors, Dale, Rose, Sarah, and Scott. Scott was the boy on top of the table. There was something off about him, something other than his casual dislike of the other girl's homeliness. Something deeper. "Hello Soul, cool name, do you have special soul reading powers?" he looked into Soul's eyes and for the first time Soul felt how is mother must have felt when he was born. His heart fluttered, it was not a good feeling. "Not that I know of, anyway, nice to meet you all. I'm going to go do some homework." He turned on his heel and left. He didn't know what it was, but he knew sitting at that table and eating with that group would not go well. ** Back in the dorm Soul got out his sketchbook, after staring at the page for an hour he began to draw, the strokes came to him slowly, and he didn't have a finished image in mind, but the smooth crumble of the charcoal on the page soothed his heart and mind. The sun had begun to set when Jon returned, his cheeks were flushed and he immediately began chatting about his plans with his new friends, Rose and Sarah had the day off too, and were going to begin running lines both for class and to audition for Romeo and Juliet. Soul hardly listened, and didn't speak. Still he drew. The picture was done completely in negative space, but Soul wasn't erasing. It was difficult to imagine the shapes that would bring the shadowed figures into the foreground, but he managed. The image was one Soul had drawn before, but not in this way, there was a ring of people and monsters holding hands. It was a starry but moonless night in a forest of hands, the nails growing in spirals that faded into smoke. Sometimes the smoke mixed with smoke from a fire, sometimes the smoke formed words. This time it did neither, and the ambiguity somehow made the picture all the more frightening. "Whatcha drawing?" Jon was pulled from his retelling of one of Scott's legendary critiques when he noticed Soul's activity. Soul didn't reply. "That's kinda scary, where'd you get the idea to draw that? I don't think I would want to be in that circle, wait, are those hands? God, dude, that's really freaky." Jon took a step back. "I don't know, I've drawn it before." Soul carefully shaded the space that would define a tendril of smoke from a star. "Some things you can't explain you know?" Jon nodded, and was, for a moment, speechless. "I used to always ask my mother why, why everything was the way it was. She would always say just that. 'Some things are the way they are, just because they can't be any other way.' You know I told her I wouldn't miss her, but I do?" he paused for another moment then Jon was back to his bubbly self, introspection forgotten. Soul nodded, but focused on his drawing, filing the knowledge of Jon's deeper side away for the future. ** Soul found it was easiest for him to draw when he was either irritated with Jon or when he was out of he way. He found it irritating that he fit this other cliché. A tortured artist, he needed pain for his art. The other thing that inspired his art was Scott. Unfortunately Scott was in two of Soul's classes, one of them drawing. "Fancy seeing you here." Soul looked around the side of his easel into a pair of the most purely hazel eyes he could remember seeing, it was a little disconcerting, they were so uniform with almost no striation or variation in tone. "Don't you remember me? I'm Scott." It was the class Soul looked forward to his whole life, a class freshmen almost never got to take, and now it was going to be ruined. "I remember you." "Don't look so forlorn, I'm not that bad. Plus now you don't have to get to know your easel buddy, cause you already know me." Scott flashed a smile that was all teeth. He looked rather like a demented werewolf from a pre-CGI horror movie, the guy was way too intense. Soul shuddered. "I wouldn't mind meeting someone new-" but before he could finish the professor entered the room. He looked like he should be the curator of some prestigious museum. He was tall and slim, but with broad shoulders, his hair was a deep chestnut brown, just beginning to go gray around the temples though it was apparent that he had seen his share of years. "Students, hello. Some of you hello again, to some of you welcome. I don't like too much formality, especially as this is a studio environment. I want you to see me as more of a mentor, and my critiques as suggestions. This class is for you to develop your perspective as an artist, for you to be able to defend your art to a critic, and to be able to maintain your style through fads and changing tastes. You cannot do that if you are always trying to imitate your peers and please me. Today, since it is the first day and I do not know many of you I just want you to sketch, and I will walk around and chat with each of you, see what you have been working on over the summer that sort of thing." The professor reminded Soul of how a grandfather should be. Kind and warm. Distinguished, but not afraid to get dirty. Soul could feel himself settling in, even with Scott across from him. Soul crossed his legs and picked up his favorite graphite pencil. He wanted to start with something light, but all he could think of were forests of teeth. He drew lazy daises, trying to think of something, anything he could draw that would impress the professor without scaring him away. But as the professor meandered closer, Soul couldn't think of anything and had nothing to show for his effort but a paper littered with artless tufts of grass and flowers. "This is nice," the professor said to Scott, "I can see your inspiration." Soul could hear the smile in his voice, even if he couldn't see what Scott had drawn. Scott was supposed to be a theatre major, but to be in this class as a freshman he would have had to have presented an impressive portfolio. "Great right?" Scott laughed. Soul fumed, Scott should have been the one drawing the flowers. "I think that with this kind of beauty in front of them anyone would be able to draw." "Well," began the professor, "good luck, I have the feeling you are going to need it in the next weeks, and you Soul is it? What have you drawn?" Soul blushed. He should have just drawn what he was thinking; he might have looked crazy, but better crazy than stupid. "I couldn't think. I'm sorry." "Well, it is the first day, you had quite the portfolio. You were the one with the unconventional forests weren't you?" Soul nodded. " I think that is the direction you should stick with. As nice as all these flowers are, they aren't the kind of thing that got you into my class. I will expect better from you in the future." The professor patted Soul on the arm and gave him a look that was worse than any punishment, and moved on to the next station. "Flowers eh? Well better luck next time. I mean flowers are great, but that's the kind of thing my little sister draws for me." Soul wished he were the fighting type so he could punch Scott. Why was he even talking? "I don't usually draw flowers." Well that was a great comeback, Soul thought. "I'm glad, neither do I, but this time I added a few. I think they add a nice touch." Scott leaned back to admire his art. Soul wanted to know what he had drawn, but more than that he didn't want to give him the satisfaction of asking. Charcoal "That's nice. I'm sure it's lovely." Soul had meant to sound sarcastic, but the words we just a bit too close to the truth to have the proper effect. "It is. I like it." Scott flashed a blinding smile then turned to perfect his picture. Soul gave up on drawing for the day. He shaded in the grass and flowers and waited for the hour to end. And to think this was the class he was most excited for. Later in the dorm Soul felt like drawing, but didn't feel like he deserved to. He looked out the window and watched Jon practice expressions in the mirror. He was listening to Phantom of the Opera, it fit Soul's mood. But after a while Soul was aching for quiet and went to find the library. He took the long way around, behind the dorm buildings and through the arts quad. The flowers and trees were calming. The still summer air felt like a blanket sweaty wool blanket, and by the time Soul reached the library, the air conditioning felt like heaven. The building was new, but the architect was obviously inspired by Gothic European churches and cathedrals. The building was made of some smooth white stone, but it still gave the impression of being dark. The windows were large but narrow, filled with clear hand made glass that bent the light into soft waves on the stone floor. At this hour this early in the year the library was relatively empty, and on the third floor, where Soul headed, there was not a breath of sound. Very different from the dorm room Soul had left. As he sat in one of the many window seats and watched the distorted trees through the unique glass, Soul realized he should have brought something with him to do. He did have some homework, even if it wasn't much, and he didn't want to get behind this early in the year. But soon, all his thoughts drifted away, he drifted away and faded into the light. "Damn, I wish the light didn't fade so fast." Soul jumped. The sun had set significantly since he had drifted. The waves of light were crimson and gold, and his arms and legs were stiff from sitting still for so long. Soul turned to see whom the voice belonged to; he almost couldn't believe his bad luck. Sitting at one of the long tables was Scott, with a large pad of watercolor paper. His hair was tousled and light stubble graced his cheeks, glowing in the fading light. He had a smudge of charcoal on his cheek and a pencil behind his ear, another in his hand. "Why are you here?" Soul stretched his legs slowly. He didn't want to seem like he was running away. He got the impression running would make Scott chase. "If you checked Professor White's web page you would know that we have a mini series of sketches due next week. Something that is based on what we drew today." Scott ran his hand through his hair again. The one with the pencil in it. Somehow the streak of black the soft lead left looked avant-garde and almost attractive. Soul debated not answering, but he was too curious, he had to know. "That doesn't answer my question. Why do you have to be up here? I obviously wanted to be by myself." "I wasn't bothering you, you didn't notice me for nearly an hour, plus how am I supposed to draw you if I can't see you? " And with another smile and what looked like a wink Scott gathered his drawing and jogged down the stone stairs. When Soul returned to the dorm, he drew, for the first time, a portrait. It wasn't very realistic. It was a profile. Soul hadn't meant to draw it. It was a picture of Scott; it was a picture of Scott sitting in the window Soul had been sitting in. After he finished it Soul looked at it for a long time. He thought of the project we were supposed to be doing. If what Scott said was the truth, Soul had to start working on a series of flowers. Soul didn't think he could do something like what he had drawn in class today and get anything near a passing grade. That left him two choices. Either not follow the assignment and do a series of something not related, or figure out a way to turn daisies into something more his style. Soul smiled to himself, and began to draw. Somehow seeing Scott was cleansing. Soul still didn't like him. He felt vaguely dirty that Scott was drawing him, but it was nice that Scott needed him to do his project. It gave Soul power. If Soul really wanted to he could simply never sit still enough for Scott to draw him. Then he would fail the project and Soul would be ahead. Soul didn't know when he had made a competition, but he felt like that was the only way to deal with someone like Scott. And now, by any rules Soul was winning. Soul brushed his hair out of his eyes; it was getting a bit long now, and began to draw. He started out a bit ambitiously. He had a two by three piece of watercolor paper laid out on the floor and was sketching furiously when Jon came back. Jon had been out rehearsing and was quite surprised when he found Soul working. He tried to hide it, but his bright eyebrows were threatening his hairline when he carefully stepped over Soul's sketch to his bed. Soul hadn't been drawing much, but now the block seemed to have disappeared. It seemed all the frustration and Scott's appearance, and the newfound competition was just what Soul needed for inspiration. He drew furiously. He had charcoal all the way up his arm and some on his face, and if his hair weren't so dark, it would be in his hair. He incorporated flowers into the theme of the forest, it wasn't anything like the original picture he had drawn years before, or even like the picture he had drawn on his first day at the art institute. It was a wholly new picture. The flowers were recognizable as daisies, but there was something wrong about them. When Jon looked at them he couldn't help but shiver. He didn't know what it was about Soul's pictures but they made his heart itch. He didn't like to look at the picture for long. The daisies were growing up a trellis made of something that Soul wouldn't recognize until later as human bones, the petals of the flowers at the top of the trellis faded into the background that Soul was carefully shading. He made the sky into intricate braids. It looked like the sky was a photograph of someone's hair. By the time Soul was ready to be done drawing for the day, the light was definitely gone from the room. The floor he drew on was lit by his IKEA reading light. Jon had tried to go to sleep hours ago, but couldn't knowing that picture was there. He didn't think he could sleep without knowing what it looked like completely, but he knew once he knew what it was he wouldn't be able to close his eyes without imagining it. He climbed down from his loft when Soul finally sat back from the paper and sat next to him on the ground. "So what's the inspiration for this one?" He spoke quietly. Even though he knew the building was filled with other freshmen not unlike them, the quiet and the lighting made it seem like they were the only people in the world. "I don't know." Soul looked down at what he drew with new eyes. He didn't know where anything he drew came from. He never really thought about it too hard. He didn't really want to know that much about himself. "I never really think about it, and I don't really look back at what I draw once it's done." Jon nodded. I found the more time he spent around Soul the more time he spent thinking about what he said. Especially after he spent time in the theatre. He loved his new friends. But in class and in rehearsal he was finding there was more to playing a character than grand gestures and memorizing lines. There was more to being a person. He wanted to know more about everyone. "Are the petals fingernails?" Jon gasped. First forests made of hands, now flowers of fingernails. He couldn't believe the detail Soul had put into his sketch, a few of the petals had chips in the nail polish, lines from impact, a few looked like they might have hangnails. Soul looked again at the picture. He felt numb. Now that he was finished he felt disconnected from the image. He didn't want to think about it, or look at it. He reconsidered doing a whole series based on this image. It didn't draw him like the forest. "I suppose they are. I didn't think of that." Soul leaned forward and quickly rolled the picture not bothering with fixative. "Won't that smear?" Jon asked. Soul shrugged. He put a rubber band around the tube and threw it into a corner. "It's past three, we should probably go to bed." He then crawled into his bed and turned his back on Jon, who was still looking at the rolled up picture in the corner. It was over an hour before Jon could get the image of fingernails as petals to fade enough to fall asleep. And even then he dreamt of a world made of hands, hands that were always grasping, pinching and plucking. When his alarm went off in the morning Jon was relieved. In the daylight the dreams of the night retreated and he felt he could face his roommate without questioning how he could have come up with such an image. Jon had always been a morning person, but he jumped out of bed and carefully checked that the roll of paper was still where it was supposed to be before getting dressed and fetching coffee for himself and Soul. Soul almost woke when he heard Jon's alarm go off, but he had gotten used to it in the past few weeks. He had gotten used to his bubbly almost friend nudging him awake with coffee in hand. The next week passed in a haze. Soul went to class, or hung out with Jon, or went to some club meeting that sounded interesting during the day. Then he came home and finished any homework that needed to be done, then he began to draw. He drew, almost in a trance until the daylight was gone and the only light was from the book light. Jon had learned to ignore the pictures after the second night. The theme of flowers and hands had remained. Though each picture featured them differently. Each picture had a nightmarish theme, and Soul had no idea where the inspiration for each one came from. The pile of rolled up tubes in the corner grew until Tuesday morning when it was time for class. Monday when Soul finished his writing class he found Scott waiting outside the door for him. "I have tried to give you space, but I really need to do my project." Scott smiled, blindingly as usual. But this time Soul smiled back. Comfortable with the upper hand he shrugged and pushed past. "Sorry, I'm really busy, I have to finish my essay." Soul didn't even turn to address Scott; he figured it was his turn to be mean. His turn to be the one with all the power. It was something that he had never really had. Even with Michelle and David, his best friends, he had always been outvoted. With that thought Soul paused. He hadn't thought of Michelle and David in over a week. And from what he could tell they hadn't thought of him either. "Can't I draw you while you write, I didn't bother you before did I?" Scott's voice was right behind Soul. Soul sighed. He didn't think he would have much success getting rid of Scott, and he had planned on working outside, and he had finished his essay except for editing. There was no reason he shouldn't let Scott draw him. Other than the fact he was a douche. "How do I know you aren't doing this to make fun of me?" Soul was remembering the first time he had seen Scott, the remarks he had made so easily, things that would have made that poor girl cry. Scott said things without thinking; destroyed people for amusement, if what Jon said could be trusted. Scott looked stunned. "Why would I do this as a joke. It's a pretty big project. I wouldn't ruin that for a stupid joke." Soul ran his hand through his hair. He thought about it. He would sit for one sketch. Then he would finish in the dorm. That was fair enough. "Fine." Hours went by, and when Scott flipped the page in his sketchbook Soul stood. "Wait!" Scott sounded panicked. "What?" Soul tried not to smile. He really liked this feeling of power. Scott was slow; Soul had been sitting for nearly three hours. "That should have been long enough. I'm not some professional model, and you aren't paying me. You should have asked if you wanted me to sit still for that long. You should have taken some pictures if you need a still to draw from." Soul couldn't keep the smile from his face. He gathered his laptop and notes and headed inside. He couldn't wait until class tomorrow. It would be quite interesting. Charcoal Ch. 02 Thank you so much for all the encouragement! This is the longest story I have begun to write, and every kind word, and even critique makes me want to write more and improve! It is wonderful to know that people have read, understood, and even enjoyed what I have written, so thank you. * Jon was relieved when he came into the dorm to find Soul watching videos on his laptop. "Done with the nightmare pictures?" The words slipped out before Jon thought. He didn't think Soul would be a good person to be in an argument with. Luckily Soul didn't take it badly, he was still flying high from his perceived upper hand in his competition with Scott. "Yup all done. I hope that Professor White likes them. They are more like my portfolio. They definitely aren't worse than what I drew in class." Soul laughed. It wasn't like what Jon remembered Soul's laugh being like before. It seemed more like something like the pictures. Something devoid of light and color. Jon shivered. "So, did you know that Scott draws?" Soul asked suddenly. He sat up. The lights were off in the dorm, even the reading light. The blue glow of the computer screen on Soul's skin was disconcerting. It emphasized the darkness of his eyes and hair. Jon had to swallow twice before he could speak. "I knew he liked to, but I didn't know he was any good. Is he in one of your classes?" Soul smiled again. Jon curled under his covers. He really didn't like this new side of Soul. "He decided to draw me as his project. But he takes forever to draw. I think he has only two drawings. We need at least five." "Why do you hate him? He is kind of a jerk, but I don't think he means it." Jon sat up in bed. Even without the pictures he didn't think he would be getting much sleep. "He is terrible!" Soul's eyes flashed in the blue glow of the computer screen. "He made me look stupid, he thinks peoples faults, even those that aren't their creation, are funny. He drew me without asking. He isn't just a jerk." Soul closed his computer, and the sudden darkness was worse than the blue glow. Jon wasn't afraid of the dark. But this dark, the confined space, and the silence were certainly discomforting. "Soul?" Jon asked, there was no answer. *** Soul woke early the next morning, he was excited to show Professor White his art, even if the pieces weren't what he was driven to create, he knew they were good, and even better he knew that Scott wouldn't have anything to show. Even if he did, it couldn't be as good as what Soul had. "Welcome to class, I hope you all checked the website and found your first assignment." Professor White walked into class talking. It was early enough in the day that the students stopped talking quickly after he began speaking. Soul was busily setting up his drawings. Some of the earlier ones were stubbornly sticking to their rolled shapes and he was working on clipping them to his easel. He was so attentive to his task that he missed Scott hurrying into class moments late, but with portfolio case in hand. "I know some of you had trouble drawing something on command last week- I am very interested how you incorporated that into your project. While I walk around I would like you to sketch something that reminds you of home. It can be something that you have with you, or something form memory." The professor walked as he talked, so as he finished his pronouncement he smoothly transitioned into speaking with the first student. "How did you use your daisies in your pictures?" Soul looked up, startled. Scott's cheeks were a bit flushed, but other than that he looked fine. He didn't look like he had been up all night trying to finish an impossible project, he didn't even look stressed. "How did you even finish?" Soul retaliated. He pushed his hair out of his face and began to think of the project. Something that reminded him of home. There was Michelle and David, but the longer he was away from them the less they seemed like friends and the less his house seemed like home. In fact the longer he was away from his house the less connected to anything he felt. Home was safe, or he had thought it was, he had thought he had friends, but now- nothing was as certain. Even the thing he was best at seemed to come and go. He didn't stand out, even as the awkward quiet kid. He was surrounded by talented people, talented people who had overcome things far worse than shyness. Soul had lost his niche, and had no way to deal with it. "Well I did what I had to do." Soul rubbed his eyes. He had gotten a good night sleep, even after Jon had made him question his hatred of Scott. He hated him. Scott was terrible. Soul didn't have to have a reason, the guy was basically a stalker, and he was a morning person. "It wasn't too bad. I don't like to draw from memory, but I found some photos. They aren't as good as they could have been of course, but I'm hoping Prof White will give me a break since it's the first project." Scott wouldn't be bad to draw either. If he wasn't such a terrible person. Soul considered. If he had to learn to draw things from observation the angles in Scott's face might be fun to play with. "Well boys, how did you fare?" The boys had been quietly watching each other for longer than either realized. Long enough for the professor to go through half the class to get to them. "Soul, no sketch, I thought we went over this last week. There will come a time when we will do projects entirely in class; you cannot just wait for the mood to strike you. The life of an artist is especially hard. The lucky ones often work on commission and that means deadlines." Soul blushed and began to look for a sketchbook. He had never followed directions well, or particularly cared to, but now, with this professor, and with Scott watching, he really didn't want to look like an idiot. And the more he didn't want to look stupid the worse he seemed to act. When Soul looked back Professor White was paging through his drawings with an unreadable expression on his face. "How did you feel when you were working on these?" The professor asked. Soul shrugged and began digging for a pencil. "I wanted to draw them at the time, then when I was done I didn't feel strongly either way. I know they aren't bad pictures, but I don't really feel a connection to them. Most of the things I draw I feel almost- compelled to redraw, or rework in some way, these I was just done with." "Mmm" The professor nodded and ran a hand through his graying hair. "How did you get the inspiration?" His voice sounded flat. It was such a contrast from the excitement and joy that usually flavored his rich tenor that Soul felt that he had somehow disappointed him. Suddenly Soul felt tears threatening. He had worked hard to finish the assignment, to find some way to fit flowers into his usually angular dark style, and still he had failed. "I don't know. I just really didn't want to mess up the assignment." Soul had more to say, but his voice was threatening to crack and Scott was right there. "Yes, but, how did you get the idea to use them in these ways." Professor White gestured to the various interpretations of petals. Finally settling on one in which the petals were made of tangled eyelashes. The center a tear filled eye. Soul wrapped his arms around his body and shrugged. "I don't know. I'm telling you. I just drew what came into my mind. Why does it even matter?" The professor's eyes grew colder. He looked right into Soul's eyes. "It matters more than you know. Maybe more than you will ever know." He then seemed to gather himself and turned to Scott's pictures. "I see you used some color." Scott nodded. Soul frowned. It didn't seem like Scott could get a bad critique from anyone. "I used some color in some of the other ones too, I know it wasn't required, but I though since we are doing a collection it would add some continuity." Professor White nodded again thoughtfully and began to page through the rest of Scott's drawings. Scott continued, "The light was so beautiful I couldn't help it, the sun was setting through the trees and I knew without color I wouldn't be able to do the scene justice. I hope I didn't overstep-" The professor shook his head until Scott stopped him, pointing at one of the pieces. "This one's my favorite. I usually can't draw without the subject in front of me, but I think this expression will stay with me for my whole life." The professor nodded in seeming sympathy. "This is really a good piece of work Scott. Not what I would have expected going from your sketch last week. I'm glad this is the direction you've taken." Scott blushed and nodded. Soul couldn't take it anymore. He knew he was the subject of the drawings, and if he could see what it was, what was getting all the praise in the whole class maybe he could figure out what the professor wanted from him. The picture was of Soul; it was of him sitting in the library, in the window seat. It was as if a photo had been taken just as Soul discovered Scott sitting sketching him. But what made the picture extraordinary was the expression on Soul's face. It was a mixture of surprise and indignation, relief and anxiety. It was amazing that such a young artist was able to capture such an expression and render it so perfectly. Soul could not remember feeling anything but irritation when he discovered Scott sketching him, but the drawing was so perfect- there was no way that anyone could have worked that complex of an expression onto a face that had never worn it. "What are you doing?" Soul looked up into the cold eyes of his professor. "I wanted to see what all the hype was about. I figured if this miraculous picture was of me that I should get to see it." It was the wrong thing to say, and Soul knew it the second the words were out of his mouth. "So sorry." He hurried back to his side of the easels and picked up his pencil and sketchbook. The problem was he still didn't know what to draw. He didn't know what home was. The longer he was at school the more disconnected he felt from everything. He had thought he had friends, but the more he was around school and people that were really friends; the more he realized that David and Michelle were never his friends. He wondered what they really thought of him. Soul had never been especially close with his mom, he didn't know his dad. Nor was he close with anyone or anything else. He was too worried about being a loner-tortured artist to be attached to anything but his art. Nothing was home but drawing. And that was just too much of a cliché for Soul to draw. "Soul." He looked up. Lost in his thoughts, but not enough to not regret his words, and be scared shitless of the professor looking down at him. "Stay after class." Soul found that even though he was older, the words that were terrifying in middle school held just as much horror in college. Fighting the butterflies and bats that threatened to climb from his mouth Soul forced him to draw something that could be interpreted as home. He got as far as a kitchen with a faceless mother baking a birthday cake when the rest of the class began packing up their materials. "Don't forget to check my website" Professor White called from his own easel at the front of the room. Soul shuddered. This was supposed to be his safe class. And instead it was turning out to be worse than math. "Hey, don't worry so much." Scott was taking extra long to pack up. "Do you want to get coffee or something later?" Soul couldn't believe his ears. It was good he hadn't eaten breakfast because the butterflies would have made themselves seen in ways that were not the regal colors of monarch and blue butterflies- "I don't know what you mean." Scott sighed, and Professor White, who had somehow snuck up on them laughed. "Silly boy, it couldn't possibly be that easy. Now go, we won't be long." And with that Scott left and Professor White turned to Soul. "You must be feeling a bit lost right now." Soul opened his mouth to speak, but Professor cut off his words with a simple raised hand. "None of what I tell you is going to make sense. But I hope in time you will come to accept it." The professor leaned against the wall and crossed his ankles. It was the most surreal thing Soul had ever experienced. He sat up straighter on his stool and prepared to be told he was adopted, or that Scott was his long lost evil twin. Or that White was his grandfather. He was nowhere near the words that came out of the professor's mouth. ** "Soul, your name is no accident. Though your mother's description of how you got it is as accurate as any, it, as many things, does not tell the whole truth. I also cannot tell you the whole truth. But I can begin to." Soul realized then that this discussion was not going to be about his art. At least not entirely. "Your mother was an extraordinary woman. You may not realize it now, and you may never really comprehend what she gave up to raise you the way she did. And it may not have been the best for anyone but it was what she believed in. she didn't want you to know about your Talent, and she did a damn good job. But there have always been people in your life, and there always will be, people that want to draw it out." This was stupid. Soul was just waiting for the camera crew to jump from the walls. "This isn't some weird fantasy movie. I don't have some talent. I just like to draw, and according to you I'm not even that good. And if I do have so talent why won't you just say what it is?" The professor smiled warmly. "I haven't mentioned because it is so hard to believe. If I didn't know your mother, if I hadn't witnessed your birth and watched you grow up I would have sworn there was a mistake. There would be no way this quiet sarcastic- rude," here he gave a rather significant look, "child could be the one that all the elders speak of in hushed voices. But there you are. Mysterious ways and all that. " Soul was getting frustrated. "What am I supposed to be able to do? Why won't you just tell me?" The professor looked down his nose at Soul; he didn't speak for a moment. Right before Soul was going to gather his materials and leave he began. "It is a sad story, your mother's. But I must begin there for any of this to make sense." The professor turned away from the easel and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "If you are willing to listen this will be a rather long story. We should go somewhere more suited to talking." They ended up in a small student run cafe under the library. It was nearly empty and the broken in leather armchairs felt like a warm embrace. Soul sat forward in his chair, knees tucked under him. The feeling of being in the chair was too claustrophobic. He didn't want any hugs, especially not one from a dirty old chair. "Before you were born your mother lived a very privileged life. Everything she knew was given to her. Her family had enough money that jobs or finances were never spoken of. But there was also little freedom." Scott was in line to get coffee, when he returned he brought Soul a chai. He set it on the edge of Soul's chair. This felt like a set up so Soul ignored it, the coffee and Scott's presence. "Little freedom? Try none." Scott curled, catlike into his chair. He didn't quite meet Soul's eyes when the other boy looked at him, surprised. "I'm lucky they let me come here. If they knew you were here- well I guess that wouldn't really make much of a difference." Soul was becoming more confused by the second. If this was some sort of elaborate prank it was going too far. No one would like it if it were televised. "Scott is right, in a way, but his life was also different than your mother's-" "What the hell is going on? You should just tell me if this is real, and quit saying stupid vague things. If you are going to tell some long winded story then get on with it." Soul took a deep breath through his nose, not understanding where the venom was coming from. He wasn't someone who yelled, he stewed, and brooded, and held wicked grudges. But he never raised his voice. "Your mother was raised Claire. Even if she didn't have the Talent she was still forced to go through all the training, and she had enough of the Talent to pass it on to you. Claire is not a place as many people think, it is not a city made of glass or anything of that nature. It is closer to a state of mind. Many people study the discipline, but your mother's family, and Scott's, lived in a community with those dedicated to the art. There was no other option for her, or for Scott." This explanation was far from satisfactory. "What's the talent? You keep saying it, but I still don't know what it is." Soul managed to keep his voice close to level, but he was still frustrated. "All in time." The professor took a leisurely sip of his coffee, rubbed his temples and crossed his legs before beginning to speak again. Soul though he was going to burst. If any of this nonsense was true his whole life was going to change. But these two, with all the answers wouldn't do anything to make what was supposed to happen clear. "When I was in college I first thought I wanted to study parapsychology. I looked into all the lab trials that had failed to show evidence of ESP and realized that maybe there was something about the lab environment that was messing with the power, or talent, or skill. I went searching for people who could do the things I wanted to learn about. I started in Lilydale, but soon found that I was more interested in the actual act, not the show of it. For several long years I searched. It was difficult. Those who really have the Talent usually try to hide it, and those who don't are usually locked in communities like the one your mother was born into. I managed to get an invitation to a ball through a friend of a friend and that is how I met your mother." Soul frowned. This was sounding more and more like a bad TV show. Or maybe one of those crime shows. Maybe Professor White was going to lead up to some elaborate reveal of how he was some inbred child of a serial rapist or something. Or maybe his parents were from some sort of poly-amorous community where everyone was related. "Are you like my dad or something?" The professor laughed and shook his head. "If only I was, maybe I could be of more help to you. I know very little, that is why I am being so vague, I don't mean to be. That is where Scott comes in. But first I want to finish my story." Soul stood and walked around his chair, too frustrated to sit, too curious to leave. The barista behind the counter looked up suddenly, as if just becoming aware there were costumers. Soul scowled at her, and she quickly went back to reading her book. "I met your mother, and was stricken with her beauty. I wanted her." Soul made a face, the image of his mother and the Professor, together, was too disgusting for him to think about. " I think she may have noticed me, but I will never really know. I will only know from that point forward I never could bear to be without knowledge of her for long. I had my friend send me updates about her life. And when she was paired, I crashed the ceremony. It was like a wedding, but fancier, and with more ritual, I imagined I could feel the magic in the air. I could tell, though, by your mother's face that she didn't love the man she was to be with, she flinched whenever he leaned toward her. I couldn't watch the end of the ceremony, well, I'll spare you the details, but I was later told that is the night you were conceived." People watched that? Soul was disgusted again, and more so that his own professor had been there to see it, that his own mother had- fornicated-in public. He shivered and walked back to his chair. He didn't sit, still unwilling to feel the suffocation of its embrace, especially after hearing of his own conception. Charcoal Ch. 02 "Later I learned that you had been born, then a little after a month after that, that your mother had disappeared. I spent years looking for her, all across the country and world, until I found you here. I introduced myself to your mother, and she remembered me after all those years. I watched you grow up, from afar, and after you began to draw, more than just what you could see I knew you had the Talent your mother lacked. She knew it too and that is why she tried to protect you, by keeping you in the dark. When you came to this school I wanted to honor her wishes, to tell you nothing. But what you draw suggests that there are changes coming, and we need to know what this means. You have to develop you Talent so you can interpret your own works. That is what I have learned, both teaching and studying art and your family, no one but the artist can truly interpret the meaning." Soul sat back in his seat and considered what the professor was saying. "You still haven't explained yourself very well. How am I supposed to learn? I just draw what comes to mind. It isn't some magical prophecy." The professor nodded. "That is where Scott comes in." Scott turned slowly in his chair, still not looking into Soul's eyes, and began his own story. "When you were born, my family claimed you as my intended. It is not a practice that is often observed anymore, and many on the counsel though it had been made illegal, well it hasn't been. I was bound to you; I don't think you mother finished your side of the bond. But I can't break it ever. And I always felt something was missing. Until I started drawing. There was always a figure that I wanted to draw, but never came out right, until I drew you sulking in the window." Scott laughed. "I asked my mother, and she told me I was stupid, that it was impossible. She told me what she has always told me, that she is very sorry the bond wasn't finished, but that I should get used to the idea of being alone. I had hope when I first met you, that maybe- but after I talked to you it was certain that you didn't feel the pull." Scott finally met Soul's eyes; Scott's were glossy like he was close to tears. Soul broke the gaze first. He had never been one to like eye contact, especially after such an intimate confession. He turned to Professor White who simply smiled. Soul felt quite uncomfortable. He had to admit that keeping him hidden was something his mother would do. She was terrified of letting him go to school. He had never gotten his license because she 'couldn't find his birth certificate' now he wondered if he even had one. "Even though you were gone, the bond didn't resolve. They know you are still alive, and assume your mother is too. It's hard for me not to tell them, but it would hurt more for you to be taken away. I want nothing more than for you to be happy." Scott looked broken. Nothing like the arrogant jerk that Soul had seen that first week. "I had to do something with my life, since I couldn't have you, I don't have the Talent, but those around me seem to get better at it. I learned how to help people use their Talent, how to protect their minds from getting too caught up in the Unworld. I would like nothing more than to help you." Soul sank back in his chair slowly. It was too much to take in. Professor White watched quietly. He hoped that everything would end up okay, but knew that there would be a long way ahead of the boys. Even if Soul did agree to work with Scott. "It sounds like there are a lot of creepy obsessions going on." Soul looked down at his hands and wondered if it could all be true. Could his forest of hands and smoke mean something? He wondered how his mother had gotten away, if she really had no skills. How he could learn a skill he didn't even believe in. "First you and my mother, now Scott." He ran his fingers through his hair and thought. "Your mother was amazing. Even after she was pared with someone she didn't love she had a wonderful life, she could have anything she asked for, she gave it up for you, she didn't want you bound, and didn't want you to be forced into a loveless match. She gave it all up for you. If it was a wrong choice, or even a drastic choice, she still made the only sacrifice, the only decision she knew how." Professor White looked determined, like he was expecting argument. Soul didn't have the words to disagree, or to inquire more. Scott looked like his heart was breaking, and Soul wondered how Scott's life was so different from his mother's, they had both given things up, both for him, both out of love, or some twisted version of it. "If I did agree, what would I have to do?" Scott's eyes brightened to an almost fanatical delight. Soul leaned away, unsure if he was making the right decision. Scott saw the reaction and tried to temper his own. "I don't mean to be too, forward. It is just hard to be away from you, and it had been years." Scott smiled and sighed reaching out a hand to Soul's face, drawing away at the last second. "We were supposed to be a powerful pair, that is the only reason they put us together, apparently both our families Saw it. I don't know though. You really seem to hate me." Soul sighed. "I don't hate you. I just-" He didn't have the words to explain himself, he still didn't know if he believed any of it. "What would I have to do?" "To start," Scott began "you have to trust me." Soul didn't do very well with trusting people. And the task of trusting such an outlandish claim was even more difficult. The barista was now watching with interest, so the new trio headed to Professor White's office. It was a small, cozy room in the art building. It smelled slightly of acrylic paint, turpentine, and coffee. There were two soft armchairs not unlike those in the coffee shop. Scott gently pushed Soul into one of the chairs and perched on the desk. The pleading look was gone from his eyes now that he had a purpose. "Close your eyes." Soul did what he was told. His heart was beating harder than he had ever felt, and yet, he knew Scott wasn't going to do anything he wouldn't like. Not yet at least. Soul could feel Scott moving around the room, but dutifully kept his eyes closed, when he felt hands over his closed eyelids he jumped, but Scott's warm dry hands were oddly comforting. It wasn't like the stifling closeness of a hug, but still had enough contact that Soul was secure that Scott was where he thought he was. "I want you to go to the place you go when you draw." Soul frowned. This sounded rather new age-y and maybe a bit Freudian. "I don't go anywhere when I draw, I just do-" "Shh." Soul would have gone on, but now that he had agreed to do this he didn't want to mess up, or disappoint Scott. He didn't like how his feelings were all over the place lately, he wanted to go back the steady, calm, unemotional Soul from before, but knew that wouldn't, couldn't happen now. "You aren't trying hard enough." Scott sounded like he was smiling. Soul sighed and tried to imagine drawing, but without paper in front him no image would come. "I can't do this. I can't just imagine drawing. I just do it." "Try harder." Said Scott. Soul tried. He pictured a pencil in his hand, the blank expanse of paper in front of him, but nothing would come. For an artist Soul had a very non-visual mind. He couldn't picture things, he imagined the descriptions of them, instead of seeing paper he thought of the idea of paper. "I can't!" Soul sat forward in his chair ready to leave. He hadn't agreed to be tormented, there were enough people willing to tell him his problems, he didn't need a whole new task to fail at. "Maybe you need to try something else?" Professor White spoke quietly. The hands left from Soul's eyes. "What do you suggest, now that you are the expert?" Scott sounded angry, frustrated. All the times Soul had been mean, Scott had never gotten angry, but now he sounded livid. Professor White also seemed surprised. "I just thought maybe-" The professor set his hands palm up on his knees, it seemed an odd gesture to Soul but Scott seemed to recognize it, and calmed- just a bit. It made the professor seem nicer, less hostile. "Well I don't need you telling me how to do my job how to deal with my Arima." The professor nodded slowly. Soul wanted to know what Arima meant, but didn't think it was a good time to interrupt; he filed the information away for another time. "I don't think I can be of any further help this evening. Let me know if there is anything I can do for you boys." The professor stood to leave the room closing the door softly behind him. As he left Scott let his hand cup the back of Souls head. "There may be a better way to do this. But that is for you and I to figure out. Not him, not any other randoms, yes?" Soul nodded and swallowed hard. He didn't know if he liked this new Scott. "What do you feel when you draw?" Scott knelt down so he was face to face with Soul, who shrugged. "Nothing, I just draw what wants to be drawn." Soul spoke quietly. He felt so lost. The day had been such a roller coaster and didn't look like it was going to be over any time soon. Scott bit his lip and studied Soul's face closely, Soul noticed how long his eyelashes were, he reached out a finger before he could think about what he was doing and brushed them slightly. They were soft, but didn't move much under his touch. "I would draw you if I could." Soul's heart beat hard enough he could feel the echo in his throat. He could feel a blush working up his chest. Scott smiled and ran his thumb over Soul's cheekbone. "I'm quite sure you could. In fact do it now." Scott got a pad of paper and a pencil down from a shelf. Soul wondered how many times Scott had been in this office to know where things were so easily. "I've said before, I can't draw people." Soul though back to the other times he had drawn from sight, or tried to draw figures, he didn't want to embarrass himself any more than he had already. "This time will be different, I'm sure of it." Scott stood to sit on the edge of the desk. "You can't watch me!" Soul could feel his blush spreading, he felt too hot, too closed in. He wished the door were open. Scott smiled again and sat in the chair the professor had recently vacated. He sat crooked in the chair, offering Soul a three-quarter view. "Is this my good side?" Soul ignored him and began to draw. He began from the middle, with Scott's eyelashes. Soon Soul felt nothing, not the heat of the room, not the stifling embrace of the chair, he simply drew, not realizing that the moment the pencil hit the paper he stopped looking at Scott and simply drew. As Soul was putting the finishing touches on Scott's hair he crossed his legs in the chair, his hips popped and a he sighed softly. Scott caught his breath. After Soul had slipped into his art Scott had been almost holding his breath, the bond made him constantly aware of Soul's beauty, but watching him draw was something else entirely, he was more than beautiful. Scott wanted to hear that sigh again, and many other involuntary noises from that mouth. Soul bit his lip and straightened his spine and sat the picture on the desk. "I think I'm done." He looked up and was surprised not to see Scott sitting in the chair across the desk, and even more to feel Scott's breath on his cheek. He turned to see Scott's reaction to the picture and to have room to breath, but was again lost in the length and thickness of his eyelashes. Scott was likewise lost in the haunting green of Soul's eyes. They really did seem like they were seeing more than other people, and at the moment they were taking everything in. Scott could see the emotion in them, the confusion, and longing, and loss. When Scott felt Soul's soft chai scented breath across his lips, any restraint he had dissolved. Scott bridged the short distance between them and brushed his lips against Soul's. Charcoal Ch. 03 This section is a bit longer, I couldn't find a better place to stop! I will continue the other stories, I just had more written on this one, but I will be working on them too. I hadn't thought I would add to Grey, but I think I might. I have to say again: thank you so, so much for all the encouragements! * Soul blinked in surprise and pulled back. He couldn't think, just hours ago he had hated Scott, or though he had, now he was kissing him. Before he could think more Scott had slid his hands deep into Soul's hair and kissed him again. It was a soft kiss, gentle brushes of lips. Scott heart threatened to choke him with desperation. As much as he wanted to feel Soul completely, he didn't want to scare him more. So after a moment with more restraint than he thought he had, Scott pulled away from Soul's smooth, startlingly cool and sweet lips. Soul's eyes were unfocused. He blinked slowly twice before speaking. "Why can't I just be?" He bit his lip again and Scott bit back a moan, his whole body ached with wanting, but he knew if he pushed too hard, Soul would disappear, and that would be more than he could bear. "What did you feel when you were drawing?" Soul looked up in surprise. What did he feel? Nothing. He answered such. "I told you before, I just draw what wants to be let out." Scott shook his head, there had to be something. He looked at the picture and found an impossibly detailed picture of himself, it would have been remarkable if that was the only significance in it, but there was more, if he looked closely, reflected in his charcoal twins eyes there was a figure alone, surrounded by trees, the figure looked like Soul. "What were you thinking?" Soul shrugged and answered, "nothing. I've told you." Scott looked back at the picture, there had to be more than that. But maybe, even Soul didn't know what was going on. He had been so disconnected form his talent for so long, thinking it only an art- useless for anything other than simple entertainment. "Do you feel anything about this picture after you have drawn it?" Scott held up the picture. For a long moment Soul didn't look when he did his eyes had lost their dreamy, open look. "Nothing. The only image I feel anything for is the forest. And that, only that it isn't quite right, I always want to make it better." Scott frowned. He was stumped. Soul was going to be a challenge on so many levels. "And that, can you draw it for me now?" An odd expression passed behind Soul's eyes, too fast to recognize. "I don't want you to look at it. Ever." After he spoke Soul was startled. He hadn't meant to say that. He meant to make some excuse about he couldn't just draw it whenever. He felt relief at having someone he could really talk to about how he drew, however he felt about Scott. But he had never said something so different from what he intended. He opened his mouth to apologize but couldn't get the words out. He rephrased in his head. "I didn't mean to say that." Scott could see the confusion in his eyes. "I meant to say I can't draw it for anyone and you aren't one of the people that I can draw it for." Soul covered his mouth and looked at Scott with wide eyes. "Maybe you can write what you want to say?" As frightening as it was, Scott felt they were finally getting somewhere. The block in Soul's speech told him there was more significance in the picture than he had originally thought. Soul picked up the pencil and tried to write, but it was as if he was writing with his non-dominant hand. He couldn't make himself form real letters. Never before had he had such a problem. He looked up with true panic in his eyes. "Scott, I can't- I can't show you something your eyes aren't meant to see." Soul bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and tried to hold back tears. Never had he felt so out of control. Scott brushed the ruby of blood from Soul's lip and smiled. "This means we are getting somewhere. There is obviously something special in that picture, we just have to figure it out." He tucked a piece of Soul's hair from his face, and looked into luminous green eyes. "There has to be a version somewhere I can look at." Soul's stomach turned as he though of Scott looking at the picture. He felt like the few sips of chai he had were going to make a violent reappearance. "I don't think that is a good idea." Soul spoke the words he meant to and allowed himself a small smile. "I don't think that you are meant to see it, at least not yet." As long as he didn't suggest anything that would lead Scott to the picture he felt better, "I'm-" He couldn't finish his apology, a tickle in the back of his mind telling him that he shouldn't give Scott anything. Not an apology, not anything that could give Scott the upper hand. "You are sorry?" Scott asked, trying to read the expression in Soul's eyes. Soul couldn't even make himself nod. Scott somehow understood. "Your eyes tell everything." Scott leaned forward for another kiss as Soul's stomach dropped. He closed his eyes as soon as the meaning reached his mind, and was once again startled by the feel of lips against his own. Soul had never imagined kissing someone could be so perfect. He had always imagined it as rather gross, swapping spit and all, but this was so soothing, and so rousing. The feeling of Scott's hands in his hair send goosebumps down his spine, the heat of Scott's lips against his own made his dropping stomach twist into knots. Overcome by the intensity Soul couldn't sit still. His own hands were reaching for Scott. He pushed himself out of the chair and wrapped himself around Scott; suddenly he couldn't be close enough. His breath was stolen and he couldn't care less. The only thing that mattered was getting closer to Scott. One of Soul's hands slipped to the bottom of Scott's shirt, he needed to feel more skin. Scott responded to Soul's intensity. He had meant the kiss to be sweet and reassuring but it was anything but. They were caught in a fever of sensation, both their thoughts focused on the texture of the others skin. Just as Scott pulled back just enough to pull Soul's sweatshirt over his head the door opened. "I've found something!" Professor White was faced with two livid, tousled students. Soul was straddling Scott on the desk, pieces of paper, pencils, and art covered the floor. The professor didn't mind the mess but the looks on the boys' faces were close to terrifying. A low growl began in Scott's chest, feeling the vibration through his own body Soul's hands clenched on Scott's shoulders and his head fell back, his eyes closing. As the sound faded Soul leaned down to rip the buttons off Scott's shirt. Scott rolled and they both ended up on the floor. Soul scrabbled at Scott's buttons, but the fall had cleared the intensity from Scott's mind, just enough for him to remember the professor, still standing stricken in the doorway. "How dare you." Scott's voice was dark and low, completely different form the pleasant tone of his everyday life, the professor gulped, regretting, with all his being, interrupting. Before he could blink Scott's hands were around his neck, the nails that had so recently been running through Soul's hair now drew blood in the smooth weathered skin at the base of the professors skull. ** The professor slowly walked from the room closing the door behind him. Soul sat up on Scott's lap, looking down at him. The spell was broken. "What just happened?" He asked. Slowly, careful not to rub against Scott too firmly, Soul climbed off the desk and began picking up the pencils. When he finished and moved on to papers his flush had faded. Scott seemed recovered too and went to answer the door. "What happened?" Soul repeated when the door opened. The professor looked at him warily, Scott sat in the chair and pulled Soul onto his lap. "I was in the library, and found a book of paintings that reminded me of Soul's." He ignored Soul's question. He also remained in the doorway and his eyes flicked from one boy to the other. Scott rubbed Soul's back. "Why was I so angry? I don't get angry." Soul blinked his luminous eyes slowly. He, in turn, ignored the professor. His pupils were still dilated, making the green seem greener. Scott leaned forward and kissed Soul's neck, now that Soul was open to his touch, Scott couldn't pull himself away. "From what I have learned, most people with the Talent have some sense that makes it easier. Usually it is the same sense that their talent manifests through. Though some people are exceptions." The professor took another step into the room, his usual confidant demeanor returning. Soul blinked again. "I don't get it." "What he means," Scott began, "is the Talent can take different forms- some people speak prophecy, some write it, some see it... I've never heard of someone who drew it. But that may be changing." The professor nodded. Soul was still confused. "That doesn't explain how angry I was. I've been frustrated before, who hasn't. I have been irritated. But I could have sworn I saw red. As cliché as that sounds." Scott hummed into Soul's neck. This crossed the line and Soul stood and began pacing the small room. "Why does nothing make sense? I hate him." Soul glanced at Scott, "or hated him. I have no idea how I feel. I kissed him- or he kissed me and it was amazing. But I don't know him. I never thought- I hated him." "Whatever grants Talent-" "It was because your power comes from touch, and well we were touching." Scott interrupted. "The closer, the more intimate touch the more power goes with the vision, or whatever. It's why families try to pair their children with someone of their own power level, or higher. Someone that will compliment his or her power." "Sex creates the most powerful magic." The professor murmured. "I was told that so many times. It was why your father was so possessive of your mother, one of the reasons she wanted you away from that world. It is unnatural for parents to imagine their children's intimate relationships but your mother was different. She thought ahead, probably because of her recent troubles, and didn't want you to have to be with someone you didn't love." Scott twisted his hands together. "My parents didn't care about that. They were only happy that your parents were willing. Well your father- I don't want you to hate me." Soul stared, his gaze flicking between the two men. "Well my mom failed then. Here I am, away from that but still with you." Now that he wasn't touching Scott the pull he felt toward him was fading. When he saw the look on Soul's face Scott's heart fell. He had been making so much progress. They could have really discovered something if Professor White hadn't walked in just then. "I need to think." Soul was so overwhelmed. Why did all this have to happen today? "The world isn't ending today so I can have some time to think, yes?" The professor almost said something; he really wanted to mention the urgency of discovering the meaning behind Soul's drawings. He really wanted to mention the similar drawing he had found in the basement of the library. But he knew, tonight they wouldn't be getting anywhere. But he didn't know that Soul would take the next six weeks to 'think'. ** Soul went to classes, even professor White's, but he didn't interact with anyone. He ate alone in the room, choosing to eat in the library when Jon was there. He did all his homework to perfection. He was a better student than he had ever been before. He tried not to draw, but when the urge hit him he couldn't stop it. It was like having a muse on his shoulder. When it was time to create, there was no stopping it. But each picture he drew during his urges, he burned. Soul retreated into his shell. He didn't speak to anyone. He floated through the halls like pollen, everywhere, but silent. Scott was devastated. He ignored his new friends and considered telling his family he had found Soul. He sent flowers, he tried to talk to Soul, he left emails and notes. All were ignored. When he couldn't stand it anymore Scott broke into Professor White's grading cabinet and found Soul's summer portfolio. Scot flipped through the first paintings, noting the composition and the craftsmanship of each one, until he reached the last one. It was different from the others, it was not a forest, it was a meadow, filled with poppies. It was a near exact copy of the mural on Scott's bedroom wall, an exact copy of the first day he had drawn flowers in Professor White's class. Only in Scott's drawing Soul was laying among the flowers, the red of poppy petals staining his lips. The only color he had used. Scott stole the picture, or borrowed as he told himself and quickly scrawled a note on the back. ** Hate me if you want, the note began, but we really need to talk, rose garden at 3. --S Soul frowned at the painting. If Scott had seen this, he must have seen the other paintings. He was right, they did need to talk. Soul sent an email agreeing to meet and considered running away, or calling his mom. The latter option won. Once on the phone Soul couldn't bring himself to reveal that he knew the whole story to his mom. Something was holding him back, but as she gushed about her little baby finally calling Soul could only think about kissing Scott and the possible betrayal he was committing by meeting him. ** The rose garden was another beautiful part of campus, Soul got there at 2 just so he could have time to sit by himself and enjoy the flowers that bloomed year round. For the past 6 weeks he had done nothing relaxing. He felt it was time to give himself a little time. Soul was lying on his back, dozing off when Scott entered the labyrinth of roses. Soul looked beautiful in the sun. Almost like some sort of fallen angel, or fairy. Scott smiled at the thought of Soul frolicking through forests. He could imagine it all to easily. Even asleep Soul's tension showed. Scott was comforted by the thought that Soul was as disturbed in the weeks apart as he had been. Souls green eyes opened slowly when he realized the feeling of being watched wasn't entirely in his dream. "What did you want to talk about?" he asked sitting up slowly. He hadn't been sleeping well and his body was reluctant to free him from his dreams. Scott was temporarily distracted by Soul's tousled hair and sleepy blinking. He could imagine watching Soul wake up every morning. He wished that he did. "Well?" Soul prompted. Scott shook of his daydreams and began to speak. "I found your summer portfolio in Professor White's office." Soul felt like throwing up. The blood drained out of his face and pooled in his stomach. He felt lightheaded with panic. "You did?" He whispered holding his stomach and trying to keep down what little he had eaten. "Yes, I was especially stricken by the one with the poppies." Soul straightened and calmed. He had forgotten about that picture, and it was one that didn't bother him. "I drew that one because of a dream. I just included it on a whim. I think it actually put me over the submission limit." Soul's voice was scratchy, half from sleep and half from swallowed bile; the taste in his mouth was awful. "I really love this garden, but can we get some coffee and talk for real?" Scott read Soul's mind. He nodded. They walked back to the café where it had all started and settled into some chairs. Soul perched on the edge of his, uncomfortably reminded of what had nearly happened the last time a discussion began in this room, and this time the professor wasn't there to moderate. "Relax, I'm not going to do anything to you." Soul sat straighter. There was no way he was letting Scott lead him into a false sense of security. He didn't want his life to be turned over again. He still hadn't recovered from the first mess. "We need to talk because the picture you drew, the one of the poppies is exactly what was painted on my room when I was born. Also, my mother knows there is something going on. She has called me every week since- since we last spoke. I don't know how she knows but she does, she wants to visit." Soul stood and walked around his chair and gripped the back. "But wont she- doesn't she want..." "She would want both of us to quit school, she would want you to come to our house and really train, she would want you to tell her where your mother is. Your father has never stopped searching for her. You would never be free again." Soul's nails dug into the soft fabric of the chair. Scott sat unbearably still, he knew he risked a lot telling Soul the truth, but knew if he lied, and the truth came out, and it eventually would- there would be no bringing Soul back, even if he lived in the same house. "She will probably know you are here when she comes, if you are here. I tried to hide it, but she created the bond- she probably know that-" "She knows that we kissed?" Soul gripped the chair harder and his knees felt weak. "Would she know if we, you know, did more?" Scott nodded and Soul's cheeks flushed a dark red. He giggled. It was too much. "Good god, I don't even know the lady and she's peeking through keyholes. How can you stand knowing she knows?" Scott shrugged. "I've known she would know my whole life. The only way to sever her connection with it is to finish it." Soul stopped laughing. Hell no. He got up to pace. "But then she would know, because she didn't know-" It was getting more confusing and creepier. Again Scott nodded. "Its not too weird if you grow up with it." It was Soul's turn to shake his head. "There is no way that is not weird. If she will know what we do, she knows I'm here and everything else somehow- what are we supposed to do?" Soul came back around his chair and perched on the edge. "Well, I don't know really. The only way to keep you mom out of it is to go to her first, my mom. Then she won't be able to force you to rat out your mom. I know it seems like the worst idea, but as a guest, it will be easier to leave." "I wouldn't be a guest otherwise?" How sinister was this organization? This family? "You would be in name..." Scott trailed off. "Would you be willing to do it, come to my house with me? You would be expected to practice your gift. The bond would be stronger in that environment, closer to where it was created. I wouldn't- push you, but it would be expected..." Soul nodded. As distant as he was from his mother, he couldn't make her go back somewhere she had worked so hard to avoid. He was lost here, and had no other ideas. If something big was coming, and in the movie that his life was becoming, there had to be something coming after so much nothing. "I'll do it." ** "Oh it is so wonderful to meet you!" Scott's mother was perfectly made up, her face unlined and perfectly, gently tanned. Her eyes were the color of honey, nearly the same color as her neatly bobbed and pinned hair. "And you too ma'am." The house was huge, much bigger than Soul had expected, many times the size of the home he had grown up in. "Oh, sweetie, you are as good as family! Don't call me ma'am that is far too old sounding. You can call me mom, or Sylvia!" She spoke in a blatantly false happy tone. Her eyes were sharp in their sockets and her skin didn't quite feel real. "Ok." Soul stepped back from the terrifying woman and looked around the foyer. It showed evidence of hired help, from the spotless corners and polished marble floors. The single room was far too big for a single family to clean, and from what Soul had seen Sylvia was not one who does any manual labor. "You boys must be so tired!" Sylvia said into the silence that followed. "I'll show you to the room. You must excuse me, you will have to carry your own bags, all the others are in temple, there seems to be something brewing." She skipped up the stairs, her wickedly thin stilettos clicking on the polished hardwood of the stairs. "You boys will be staying in the scarlet room. I'm afraid Scott's room is not quite big enough for two." She winked in what Soul assumed was supposed to be conspiratorial way, but didn't quite work as not all of her face could move. Charcoal Ch. 03 "Mom, you know we haven't-" Scott blushed, his mother taking away all the confidence he had. He was back in the place he had grown up, the place he was told he would be alone forever, that he was talentless, good only for the one that had abandoned him. "No time like the present!" Sylvia squealed. "Here we are!" She threw open French doors at the top of the first landing. The first room they entered was painted a soothing lavender, but the second set of French doors lead to a lavish bedroom painted the richest scarlet. The bed must have been larger than a king and the headboard was iron formed into the silhouette of a tree. It was a beautiful piece, but an intimidating one. "Mom, this room-" "Is perfect for what you will no doubt be doing! I expect you to do what is expected of you Scott. I know you spent a large amount of time thinking you didn't have to do your duty to the family, but that time has ended. You have been granted a chance to live up to your family name, don't waste it." Her voice was suddenly cold. Scott nodded and dropped his bag on the floor. Sylvia smiled, clapped her hands and left the room, closing the door behind her with a smile and another wink. "Sorry." Scott whispered, refusing to meet Soul's gaze. "I forgot how she is. It was years before I realized how un-mother like she is." Soul was too stricken to respond. He placed his bag on a chair and ran a hand along the satin comforter. There was a knock on the door, and it opened a moment later. Outside stood a woman that looked as much like Scott as possible without being a man. Her stomach protruded slightly in a way that suggested more than a large lunch. Soul had the uncomfortable image of Scott in the same condition before the new figure spoke. "Hi, I'm Josie! Scott's sister. I am so exited to meet you; it has been so lonely here with only mom for company. And you must be Soul! It's been so long! Oh has mother got plans for you." She waddled into the room and gave Scott a hug. "You have to stay! I can feel myself become more like mom everyday. Nova says I talk like her now. Can you believe it!" Scott wrapped his arms around his sister's shoulders and buried his head in her hair. "I missed you so much. And are you are having a baby?" Josie giggled and twirled. "Yes, I mean, I didn't really intend on having one yet. But now that- well I think I am excited! I am supposed to be resting now, that's why I'm not with the others, but I couldn't wait to see you." Soul liked the woman; her enthusiasm seemed genuine opposed to Sylvia's forced smiles. "And you-" She turned to Soul, "are just too pretty, I might have to steal you for myself!" She giggled, but Scott's face wasn't something to laugh at, he looked beyond livid. "Oh silly don't worry!" Josie patted him on the shoulder. "Nova might kill me. Now you guys should get dressed for dinner before mom flips completely. She wants you to wear your black suit that she got you over the summer with a green tie and the antique cufflinks." She smiled at Scott's irritated expression and turned to Soul. "She wouldn't share what she wants you to wear but she left a box in the dresser, I think it has your name on it." Soul wondered why she was telling them this if she was supposed to be resting, how were they supposed to know what to wear if she stayed asleep. "Because I am supposed to get up at 6 to remind you, I'm just a bit early. I thought you might want to shower instead of just change. Plus I wanted to see my baby brother and resting all the time gets boring!" She turned and flounced out of the room. Soul was floored. "Does she read minds?" He whispered as if that would keep her out of his head. Scott laughed. "Not quite. She is really, really empathetic though. She probably felt your confusion toward her. She is really good at guessing too." Soul nodded, still not quite understanding but unwilling to pursue it now. "So is your mom always this particular about what you wear?" Scott nodded and frowned at the closet. "You bet, and you better get used to it, especially if she has already started with you. She usually waits until the second day to dress her guests. Better go find your clothes, we have an hour." ** After enjoying the waterfall shower for longer that the time warranted Soul opened the box addressed to him in a bubbly script. Opening it he was struck with the impression of green the shirt was a vivid emerald with what seemed like a million mother of pearl buttons down the front. It was beautiful. Soul hated it. Pulling it on without undoing the buttons Soul found the shirt fit him perfectly, if a bit tighter than he preferred. It then flared slightly at his hips. He despised it. The pants were made of a soft material Soul couldn't identify, thankfully they were black and other than being a bit tight around the thighs and long, comfy. Dressed, Soul walked back into the lavender drawing room. Scott's breath caught when he saw Soul's reflection in the mirror where he was fixing his collar. While he would have never picked the outfit for himself or for Soul it was beautiful. The green brought out the glow in his pale skin and the depth of his eyes. The cut of the shirt and pants emphasized the slender form and gentle curves Soul usually disguised. Scott turned around and the unfiltered imaged hit him like a punch to the stomach. He hardened painfully in his perfectly tailored pants. He wanted Soul like he had never wanted anything else. He forgot about dinner, about his mother and sister and the mess they were all in. All he could think of was Soul's slender hips in his hands and legs wrapped around him. ** Soul stepped back when he saw the intensity in Scott's eyes. "Hi?" He whispered. Scott couldn't bring himself to say a word. He simple stared. "Umm, do I need shoes, cause there weren't any that I could see." There was a long pause before Scott answered. "Oh no, not in the house." The spell had been broken, but Scott's eyes retained their intensity and Soul's their wariness. ** The dining room was just as intimidating as the bedroom. The chairs had backs high enough to hide their occupants and the place settings. There were several more forks and spoons than Soul knew what to do with, and covered platters promised many courses. "You are a bit late." Sylvia stood in a chair at the head. "But I will excuse you this time." She smiled, and it looked scarier than if she had frowned. "You will sit here, and you here." She pointed at Soul and Scott and where she wished for them to sit, on either side of her. Soul stood next to his chair, waiting for some sign to sit. There were still several seats at the table that were set, but unoccupied. "Sit." Scott mouthed from across the table. Soul did, just then Josie and a man Soul assumed was Nova entered the room. Josie was wearing a soft black gown that hid her belly. Nova a plain black suit. Josie sat next to Soul, Nova next to Scott. Soon after 2 more couples entered the room and sat the doors on the other side of the room entered. The man that came through them carried an aura of power. He looked a bit like Scott, but mostly he looked like someone you shouldn't cross. "So the prodigal son has returned." Scott bowed his head. "Son, keep your head up. I may have raised a useless boy- but I will not let you be pathetic as well." Scott raised his head, but would not meet Soul's eyes, or anyone else's at the table. "Well dear, he may just have some purpose now. Somehow he convinced this one to visit." Sylvia gestured to Soul like he was some sort of trophy. He considered, to them that was exactly what he was. "Yes, I see that. But the bond isn't completed is it? The little one still doesn't know what is happening, and cannot channel or understand what he Sees. One step in the right direction cannot make up for a lifetime dallying with paints." Soul looked at Scott, his face was blank. "I didn't mean to cause such trouble. I never knew about any of this until a couple months-" "So it speaks." Soul was taken aback. He hadn't meant to cause any offense. He opened his mouth to say as much, but was again interrupted. "Sweetie, no one asked you to say anything." Sylvia placed her napkin on her lap. "No question was asked of you, so don't say anything." Soul was stricken. He couldn't think of anything he could have said. He looked down at his plate and played with his napkin. He was beginning to see why his mother had left. After several moments of careful silence Sylvia picked up one of the platters and began serving tiny bowls of salad. "So Josie, is that a new dress?" Sylvia's voice suggested that clothing wasn't the main point of her question. Josie visibly swallowed and seemed to gather herself before speaking. "I wasn't feeling well last week, so I ordered it. I thought you would like it." Her whole demeanor had completely changed, gone was the sweet bubbly girl from earlier. In her place was a shy, scared young woman. "I understand. But that doesn't make it right. You should come to me before you purchase nonessential items." Josie lowered her head and began to pick at her salad, Sylvia moved on to her next victim. "Stacey, I heard you went to the doctor yesterday?" A woman to Josie's side nodded and paled. "Yes ma'am." "Call me Sylvia." Again the woman nodded, then looked up into Sylvia's piercing eyes and false smile. "Yes Sylvia." The woman looked close to tears. Soul couldn't imagine going through this each day. Did none of these people stand up for themselves? Then he remembered how difficult it was to even think of something to say. "And what did he say?" Sylvia asked still glaring into Stacey's eyes. "She said these things take time. She said that I should try not to worry, that that could make things worse." "She? You didn't go to the doctor I suggested? And you should be worried. Stacey, you aren't getting any younger, these things do take time and every month you fail your chances get smaller. Even Josie has conceived. Who knew she had it in her. You disappoint me. Go to Doctor Beauregard. He will have something better to say. Else..." A tear slid down Stacey's cheek, but she stayed at the table, and Sylvia moved on to her next victim. When she had moved through all the people sitting on Soul's side of the table a cloud seemed to lift from the group. Moments later two men dressed in simple white suits came and cleared the table. This time Scott's father served. "You all know there have been developments?" Scott's father began. Everyone but Soul nodded. "We need to discuss what will happen next, but first let's eat." The rest of the dinner passed in silence. And though the food was impeccably prepared Soul couldn't make himself eat more than a few bites. The feeling in the house was beyond hostile. Not only toward him but toward everyone. He couldn't imagine living here, he wanted out as quickly as possible. Back in the scarlet room Soul paced. Everyone had retired to the deeper recesses of the house and he had been sent back here. After throwing the green shirt into a corner Soul paced. How was he going to escape now he had come here on his own? What was expected of him? Did he have any say in anything that happened from here on out? He paced and wondered. By the time Scott reentered the room Soul's stomach was rolling in acid, and he felt more trapped than he ever had before. "How can you stand it here?" Soul flopped on the bed when Scott entered the room. "How did you live here for so long? How are your parents-" "Don't talk about them." Soul looked up suddenly. He was so caught up in his own feelings he hadn't really considered Scott's. "Why not? They aren't in here." Scott shook his head. "This is their house. You don't talk about them." Soul huffed and lay against the soft pillows and watched Scott take off the cufflinks and carefully put them in a box. Then begin to unbutton his jacket, than shirt. "What am I expected to do, other than keep my mouth closed?" Soul ran his hands through his hair, wishing for a brush. It wouldn't fix his messy hair, but it would feel good. He scratched his scalp with his fingernails but it wasn't the same. "You are expected to learn how to use your Talent, if you could figure out how to have a baby, I'm sure my mom would be thrilled." "What?" Soul froze. "That's not possible. It can't be." Scott laughed. "Of course it is, you just need a little magic. Don't worry no one has been able to figure it out for years. But you heard Stacey, even though she looks younger, she is 37. Mom is worried she won't have kids- ever. Stacey doesn't have the talent, but her family is known to skip a generation every now and again, then the next child has a very strong gift. Mom thinks Stacey is not getting pregnant on purpose." "But, shouldn't it be her choice?" Scott laughed and gave Soul a look that clearly said the answer, no. Finishing undressing Scott crawled onto the bed and flopped next to Soul. "I don't suppose I can have a kiss?" It was Soul's turn to laugh. "No, I can't think when you kiss me. My whole mind falls apart. I think I need to think for a while." "You've thought for weeks!" Scott reached over to tickle Soul. After resisting for a moment Soul let out a peal of laughter. "Stop, stop, stop!" He laughed as he tried to tickle Scott back, but he was laughing too hard to get a good grip. When Scott finally let him up to breathe he couldn't help but kiss him. The break in the tension of the day was too sweet. Now that he had gotten himself into this he couldn't let this silly moment go. Scott returned the kiss, nibbling on Soul's bottom lip. "You are jus too sweet." Scott whispered as he brushed kisses from Soul's mouth to his cheek, then to his eyelids. Soul sighed before seeing his opportunity. He reached out and tickled Scott's unprotected sides. Laughing Scott wrapped his arms around Soul and rolled so Soul lay under him. "Maybe I spoke too soon." Soul giggled until Scott bit his neck, right where his neck met his shoulder, his laugh turned to a moan. Scott sucked on the spot, ignoring Soul's whimpers. Scott could feel the skin heating under his touch, flesh thickening, hardening. He kissed down Soul's bare chest to the soft waistband of his pants; here he stopped, nibbling, kissing, and licking until Soul begged for him to continue. Scott slowly pulled down the pants and the black briefs underneath, kissing each bit of skin he revealed. Soul's breath caught in his throat as he watched, pushed up on his elbows. It stopped completely when Scott took him into his mouth. In his silence he heard footsteps and voices elsewhere in the house. In that moment everything came back to him. It was why he hadn't wanted to start this. He always forgot himself with Scott, but now he remembered. "No stop." For a moment Scott didn't hear, or ignored Soul's plea. "Scott really, stop. Not here." Scott looked up and saw the fear in Soul's eyes. Sighing he flopped, aching onto the pillows. "No one would interrupt." Soul pulled up his pants and scooted to the edge of the bed. "That's not the point." Soul said, it was as clipped as it was breathless. Scott rubbed his temples and tried to breathe. Again Soul was pulling away. He didn't know how much longer he could go without doing something he would regret. ** Soul fixed his pants and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry." He said, Scott shrugged "It's okay." Soul frowned, Scott hadn't sounded like it was okay. "I just don't know you that well. Just a few weeks ago you were the annoying guy with an easel next to mine. Now I am supposed to be 'bonded' to you. I don't even know what that means. I know nothing about you, yet you seem to know everything about me, and you won't even tell me that, or what is going on." Soul had been planning to stay cool and collected, but he could feel the red of a frustrated blush seeping into his cheeks. He ran his hands through his hair and tried to calm down. "Well, I'm not allowed to tell you-" "Not allowed to? Really Scott that's all you can say to me right now? You aren't allowed to tell me anything. Well you also weren't allowed to know me before taking me here. Why do you care anyway, it's not like your family even likes you!" Soul was panting for breath, again he felt out of control of himself, but in a much worse way than when he was kissing Scott. He felt angry, hot. He wanted Scott to feel the confusion and turmoil he felt. "Why would you even come back, you obviously left. You came back to the failure you left. You can't even teach me anything and it's not cause I can't learn. I'm waiting here to do my part, even if it will ruin my life, my mother's life and you can't even-" "Shut up." Soul was ready to keep on yelling but Scott laid a gentle hand on his thigh. Soul stared at him, he couldn't read the expression on Scott's face, but it wasn't a good one. "You are right when you say you don't know anything about me. You don't know hard it was for me to grow up without you, knowing you were out there somewhere. That you didn't need me like I needed you and never would. How difficult it was when I first meeting not to just- take you. You have no idea how hard it was to not tell you what you are the first time we met. You don't know what it is like to grow up surrounded by Talent without it. You have no idea what it is like to have parents who think of you as their biggest embarrassment and failure. You were always supposed to be my chance at redemption, but here we are and all you have done is run away. And now I know I am just as useless as I was always told. You don't have to tell me." Soul continued to stare. Scott had no emotion in his voice. Soul reached out to touch Scott's cheek; Scott grabbed his hand before he could make contact. "I don't want your pity." "I'm not-" Soul stopped talking and settled back on the pillows, then sat up straight again. He felt horrible. He slid from the bed and went to the door and walked to the lavender room. He had planned on sitting and thinking, but he was too restless. He was exhausted, but couldn't settle. He went to look around the house. The furniture was all old and heavy, the hallways filled with art and decorations. Soul ran his hands down tapestries that were probably hundreds of years old. All of them told stories Soul couldn't begin to guess at. "My great grandfather did those. He had a Talent similar to yours." Soul jumped, but it was Josie behind him. Her eyes were red rimmed and her hair looked limp and sad. She looked nothing like she had when they first met, or even as she had at dinner. "Please don't stare, I know I look horrible." She looked away as Soul studied her face. "You don't-" "You don't have to lie, I know how terrible I look. I was wearing a lot of makeup. It is hard for me to sleep. I try to be excited about having a baby, but honestly- I'm not ready. I wasn't sure I ever wanted to be a mother. But well, things happen." Josie smiled a bit and stepped closer to Soul. "But you know that don't you. Things have been happening for you too. Why are you here walking around?" "I thought you could read minds." Soul ran his fingers along the tapestry again. The fabric was rough against his fingers. It helped cement the dreamlike world of the moonlit hall. "Only emotions. You feel lost, I can relate. But I don't know why." Soul studied Josie's small form and sighed. He had to talk to someone. "Everything is different than I thought. I can't make up my mind about what I am supposed to do. Everything I am told makes me think I am on the wrong side, but I don't even know why there are sides. I don't know what to do about Scott. He's too pushy, but he has reasons. Nothing is simple. Everything was simple until now. I used to draw when I felt lost, but now I can't even do that." Josie petted Scotts arm and sighed. Charcoal Ch. 03 "I know how you feel." She laughed then. "Of course I do." Soul smiled at her. It seemed, as unlikely as it was, he had found a kindred spirit. "I will tell you my story if you will share with me later?" Soul nodded. "I have always been the baby in my family. The sweet one, the one that wooed all the adults. I never got in trouble. I was bonded on my 18th birthday. Everything I did was to please my family, then to please them and Nova- no don't make that face, I love Nova. At least I think I do. Well then we got married and everything started happening. My Talent suddenly wasn't enough. I couldn't See so I was useless. No matter what I did it wasn't good enough. Scott went away to school and I was left here. Everything I felt toward me was disappointment. From mom and dad, all the visitors we were having. Only Nova seemed to still like me. But then I started to feel resentment from him. I asked what it was about. He knows what I do of course. He comes from a small family, and well mine, dysfunctional as it is, made him want a big family of his own. I wanted someone to love me; I wanted to be a success to someone. It sounds weak. But you have to remember until two years ago I was the perfect golden child." Soul nodded his head. "I know what you mean. Well not exactly, but you aren't weak." Josie shook her head and began to walk down the hall. She rubbed her hands firmly down her sides and sighed before continuing. "I told Nova I wanted a baby. He knew I was lying. Or knew my motives, but he pretended not to, I pretended I didn't know he knew. So here I am." She petted her softly protruding stomach. "It didn't work. I still am not back in mom's good graces. She thinks I should want more. She thinks I am not enthusiastic enough. She wants the baby now. I don't know. Even Nova, he resents that I don't really want a baby." Josie sniffed and rubbed her eyes. "Sorry, I don't usually have someone to talk to." Soul wrapped his arms around himself. How could someone be so mean to a sweet person? "I don't want your pity." Josie's words brought Soul out of his thoughts. "You know, that's what Scott said right before I left. I don't know what to do. He knows everything about me and I know nothing about him, but we don't know each other. He says he knows all about me but we've never really talked." Josie smirked at him; Soul felt a giggle coming on. "Not like that. Really, I just ignored him for more than a month. I have no idea what is even going on. People tiptoe around it, but I have always been out of the loop, I've never known anything. I can't pull the pieces together." Josie stopped walking and grimaced. "I feel sick." She whispered, then dry heaved. Soul jumped back from here. "This is why I can't sleep. I do need to rest but this damn baby doesn't seem to like it when I rest, or eat, or drink, or do anything that isn't Lamaze or yoga." Soul was at a loss. "I don't know-" "Keep talking" Soul nodded than began again. "Scott says he is supposed to be teaching me something. I am supposed to be drawing something important but I don't want anyone to see it." Soul felt his own bout of nausea when he considered telling Josie about his forest picture. " I don't know what to do, who to trust. Why I have to worry about any of it. I just want to go back to the way things were." Josie slid down a nearby wall and rubbed her stomach. "I know how you feel. I wish I could help you more. I haven't been kept in the loop either but I can tell you some things." "Why are you helping me so much? Can't you get in trouble?" Soul knew her even less than he knew Scott and here she was offering to tell more than anyone had ever revealed. "Don't be so suspicious. I have nothing to lose. I am as lost as you, I just know a bit more." Soul slid down beside her as Josie fell into a story about battles and angels, light and dark, shadows and fire. ** "What do shadows have to do with my pictures?" "Think about what you draw and I think the answers will come to you." Josie was looking decidedly pale but she seemed calmer than Soul had seen her. "Well what do the shadows have to do with anything else?" "You need light to cast shadows. Have you ever read the Allegory of the Cave? It is a bit like that. Think of Scott as the light. Mom and dad have forgotten all about the story, I only remember pieces, but it's like this. The problem is in the cave, or on earth, the shadows don't tell the whole truth. The fire is deceptive. The only way to really know the truth is to travel into the light. But the light hurts, it burns and pushes you away." "But it doesn't make sense. The angels, Scott doesn't hurt anyone, I'm the one who keeps running-" "Soul, I just told you, not all the story is true, and everything is a symbol. Some are easier to see than others. I'm just telling you the story as well as I remember it." "Where do you come in?" Soul asked but Josie wasn't listening. Her focus was inward. Finally she spoke. "I think something is wrong." She pushed to her feet and looked down at her feet. She swayed dangerously. Soul stood to help her stand when with a soft gasp blood began to drip from between her legs and she began to scream. Nova was the first to come onto the scene. "What have you done to her?" He yelled and hit Soul in the head. Soul tasted blood then saw no more. ** Pain woke Soul. He touched a finger to his jaw. It hurt. "Oh, he's awake." The voice was unfamiliar. Soul opened his eyes. The room was softly lit, he smelled lavender. Soul turned his head slowly to see who had spoken. It was one of the women from the dinner table. "Hello, I'm Melissa. I am Scott's oldest sister." Soul frowned how had he missed this introduction. "Hi." He whispered. Something had happened, something bad, but he couldn't quite remember. "Josie is going to be okay, don't get up." But he hadn't even thought. "Don't worry, my Talent if precognition. You were going to get up and hurt your head. It would make my mom happy, this Talent, but it only works a few minutes in the future, Unless Michael helps me." She smiled dreamily; Soul had trouble following her thoughts. He supposed being caught up in the future and past would be confusing, even if it were just a few minutes. "Don't worry, it usually takes time to find the- technique- that will help you the most. Scott will figure it out sometime." It was also disconcerting to have his questions answered before he thought them. It was like mind reading but worse. "How-" "We have 5 siblings. There is Scott, he is the second youngest. Josie is younger than him, just by a year. Yes, Scott took a gap year before college. Or more like he waited to mom and dad to loosen their claws around him. Then there is Marcus, he's third then Thomas and May, they are twins. Then Cal, then me. Six all together." Soul nodded, he wondered where the others were. He even considered asking looking at Melissa expectantly. "You haven't decided to ask out loud, if you are wanting me to answer one of your questions." Soul opened his mouth to speak- "They are busy working, well most of them, the others are here, you saw them at dinner... I would tell you what on but mom told me that you have to figure it out yourself... I don't know why, you might have some sort of spy on you, or a block." Soul thought of the voice that stopped him from telling about the forest picture. A spy? For who? How would he tell, who should he tell? "We should probably check on Josie. She really is too young to have a baby if you ask me. Not that her body can't handle it- it's that her mind can't and that girl is stubborn enough to make herself sick, I'm sure she could think her way out of having a baby." Soul thought of the implications of such a phrase and gulped. He hoped she was okay. ** Josie was sitting up in bed when Soul and Melissa arrived, propped on pillows and sipping slowly though a straw. Nova sat by her side and clutched her hand. Sylvia sat on the other side of the bed and glared at everything. "You, what did you do to my daughter? She is supposed to go directly to bed after dinner, and you- I would have thought you would be with Scott. I understand that he can be useless and a boor, but you seemed friendly enough when you first got back from dinner." Soul blushed, his whole body flushing. She had heard, she had known. "You silly boy, it is nothing to be ashamed of, in fact you should be more ashamed you stopped. Everything would be so much easier if you just finished the bond." Soul couldn't answer that. "Josie needs to rest, to be still, and not fret. So you need to stay away from her." This time Nova spoke. Josie raised her eyes to Soul's but didn't speak. "Will someone help me understand what is going on?" Soul asked when the silence became too heavy to bear. "You truly must be stupid boy." Sylvia's sickly sweet demeanor had completely disappeared. Soul could see how she was really on the bad side, but how could he switch teams this late in the game, when he didn't know what was being played. "Everything is happening. Everything your cheating mother started. The cracks between things are opening. Nothing is black in white, the color is coming and we are still seeing in shades of grey. You are our chance to see in color and you are seeing nothing. Our painter is blind!" She ended screaming. Soul wanted nothing more than to cry, to run from this place and hide, he wanted to draw and lose himself in the smell of graphite and new paper. He didn't know what to do about evil and seeing the future. He couldn't and didn't know where to start. "Take this useless thing back to Scott." Sylvia flicked her hand at the door and Melissa gently nudged him toward the door. When they arrived back at the French doors Melissa stopped Soul and leaned toward his ear. "I can't tell you what is going to happen, but I can tell you we aren't on her side. We just aren't strong enough to lead. I think you are. But only if you make yourself. Talent is just like a muscle. You have to find it to flex it, and flex to become stronger. Your mind is stronger than any muscle. Figure out how to use it." She paused as if to say more then left. "Goodnight little brother." She called as she disappeared around a corner. Soul wondered why she called him that when he felt arms wrap around him. "I'm sorry for yelling so much. I couldn't bear for you to think of me as they do." Soul frowned. Why did Scott have such mood swings? He seemed like he wanted to tell Soul everything he was, but then he acted like he hated everything, and Soul most of all, then claimed he was his greatest love, then refused to answer any questions. "I don't understand you." Soul whispered as Scott pulled him into their rooms. "You won't until later." Soul was about to ask when later was when Scott kissed him again. Softly this time, without any unnatural need. It was almost comforting and Soul leaned into him. Gently Scott petted Soul's bare skin, Soul slipped his hands under Scotts own shirt. He had changed into a soft charcoal grey pajama suit. Soul nuzzled his face into Scott's chest when his lips were freed. "Why can't things be simple?" He asked in a soft voice. Scott shrugged. "Because then they would be boring." Soul chucked and sniffed. He wished for something boring. "I am bound to you, and I still can't comfort you. Do you know how much that hurts?" Soul shook his head. "Of course not, but you do know pain. I have lived all my life waiting for you, and now I am forbidden to tell you anything. It goes against everything I have, but I can't." Soul suddenly had an idea. Even if the sides had been drawn in ink he couldn't see, Soul could make some boundaries of his own. "Scott, if I told you something and you promised to not tell anyone, would you tell?" "I wouldn't be able to, even if I wanted- if I promised even if the bond is from my mother, it is between us." Scott sounded excited. Soul was as well. He had an idea. "Scott, don't tell anyone." Soul waited to see if the voice would stop him from speaking, it was quiet. "But I think the important picture is the one of the forests of hands. I don't know why it is, and I have no idea what it means. But it is important somehow." Immediately a weight seemed to lift off Soul's chest. He had made a good decision. In the depths of his heart he knew he had made the right decision. Charcoal Ch. 04 Sorry it has been a little while since I have posted. I have been looking for an editor and found one! CambriaRose helped me with this section and I know that working with her will make my writing much better, and hopefully more fun! I hope you like this section even though it is a bit short. I hope to be writing more soon. * With similar promises of secrecy Soul told Scott about all the things he had been holding back. He told about the voice and the drawings, how sick he felt when he was trying to tell about him. The dark feelings he had when he was drawing for the first portfolio and how Jon's eyes had been full of fear. The only different thing he didn't share was the fear he felt for the future, and especially for his relationship with Scott. Scott sat silently though it all and thought. "You probably have a block. Like Melissa said. Your Mom probably gave it to you, to keep you away from my Mom." Scott began when Soul was silent. "I guess that would make sense." Soul thought back, trying to remember a time when his Mother had been anything but perfectly, infuriatingly normal. "But she never did anything-" "That you remember. She was very good with memories." Soul sat back against the pillows and thought about that. "And is your Mom? What is her specialty?" Scott sat silently and played with the edge of his pajamas. "She does a little of everything. No one has ever been able to put her in a box. Even my Dad. He looks like he is in charge, but that is only because she wants him to look like he is in charge. He does everything she tells him, he always has." Soul thought this over, and what Melissa had said. If they weren't all with their mother, would they be with him, was his Mom still on his side- any side? "You are thinking too hard, it's late. We don't have to fix this all now." Soul looked at Scott. "You look ridiculous just wearing jammies." He smiled and ran a hand down the soft cloth. He felt calmer now. There was no overwhelming attraction or instant disgust. He felt himself, neutral. "Well, one of us has to wear clothes." Scott looked pointedly at Soul's still bared chest. He seemed to pick up on the calm mood and smiled back. Soul was glad he was feeling more himself but he couldn't let it go. "Why do I sometimes hate you, and sometimes being away from you feels like it would be the worst thing in the world?" Scott's smile faded. "Well you might naturally hate me, and the bond, even one sided as it is, influences you to like me. But what I hope, and the most likely answer is that the block is trying to keep you away, and the bond wants you closer." "So now, I don't really feel either?" Scott shrugged. "Well how do you feel?" "I feel like-" Soul had to pause to think. "I feel like I don't know you well enough to really know. I think you look silly in that outfit but not so bad otherwise." Soul's smile returned, and in turn, so did Scott's. "Well I could take them off?" Scott suggested. Soul shook his head with a smile, then sobered. "But why? I mean we are here, where you say it started and that it should be worse here. Your Mom is just down the hall. Why don't I feel like-" "Ripping my clothes off?" Scott nodded. "I don't know. Maybe because the bond and block aren't fighting so hard. You let me in, just a bit." Scott couldn't help smirking at the last bit. Soul sighed and yawned. "Lets sleep." ** The next morning Soul woke panicked, thinking he would miss his writing class. He sat up in bed before his eyes were truly open and was assaulted by the deep red of the walls. Slowly his heartbeat slowed. He remembered where he was and why. Scott was still sound asleep. Soul looked down at him and felt little. Soul was beyond excited that the progress of the night before seemed to stick. He sat quietly, listening to the sounds of the house waking up. Scott began to stir about 10 ten minutes after Soul. Soul smiled optimistic about what the day would bring. Now that he could think and was alone in his own mind, maybe he could begin to look into the possible meanings of his pictures. But as Scott opened his eyes, Soul knew something was not right. Scott sat up in one boneless movement and stared at Soul. His eyes were bloodshot and his pupils were huge, even for the shadowed room. Soul stared into his eyes, frozen. The intense look from the night before was back, threefold. "Scott?" He asked. There was no answer. They sat for what felt like ages. Finally something broke the tension, Soul didn't know what it was but suddenly Scott was above him. Soul pushed at his shoulders, but Scott he wouldn't be moved. Scott leaned in for a kiss, Soul turned his head. But Scott merely went for his neck, licking and biting. Soul knew there would be a mark. It felt amazing, but it wasn't what Soul wanted. He couldn't find his words, and his arms weren't in a position to push effectively. Satisfied with the mark on Soul's neck, Scott moved on to Soul's his bare chest. He licked at his nipples, then bit the left, harder than anything Soul would ever want. Finally he found his voice. "Scott no! I don't want this. Stop please, let me up." Scott took no notice, if anything the pleas urged him on. He continued in a leisurely path down Soul's sternum to his bellybutton, leaving his marks everywhere he stopped. Soul was breathless. It felt too good to continue to say no, but he felt dirty. He didn't want this. But his words turned to breathless moans, sighs, and whimpers. When Scott reached his pants Soul regained some of his strength. He pulled at Scott's hair and pushed at his shoulders, but still his pants came down. With Scott's first gentle lick Soul went still. Each gentle lick brought Soul higher; when Scott took him in all the way he thought his heart would burst. Every thought was gone. His hands clutched Scott's hair, but no longer to push him away. Soul wrapped his legs around Scott's shoulders and shuddered, trying to hold back the pleasure. But it was only a matter of time. One last time Scott hummed around Soul's length and it was the end. Soul flinched hard, as if to pull away from the overwhelming feeling. The room blurred into a sea of red, the light from the window splintered. He could hear his own voice calling out, but could not understand the words. Finally when the world came back into focus Soul looked down at Scott. He was still licking at Soul, rubbing the smooth skin of his inner thighs. Soul pulled away, feeling violated and like his skin was being rubbed with sandpaper. Scott looked up at him, and just as he met Soul's eyes he convulsed, shooting into his pants and onto the bed. Soul pulled away with all his strength. He couldn't quite believe what had just happened. When he was finally free he shoved himself from the bed, falling in a heap on the floor. He scrambled away when Scott looked down at him. "What- how could you, I said no! I don't, I cant-" Soul couldn't find his feet, he found his back against a wall, he couldn't pick himself up, couldn't bring himself to look back at the bed. "Soul- Soul I am so sorry!" Soul couldn't even hear the words. He breathed too quickly and the world swam before his eyes. Scott climbed to sit before him. He took Soul's face in his hands and forced him to look in his eyes. They were calm now, normal. Finally Soul calmed enough to push himself up and rush to the bathroom. Scott heard the water turn on and another figure entered the room. "Oh my sweet Son, I think you have just pushed your little rabbit away." Sylvia smiled her fake smile and looked around the room. "Sweetie, you might want to clean all this up before he returns." Scott was at a loss. "Don't just stand there! Clean!" Sylvia pointed at the stained sheets, then to Scott's own pants. His cheeks flushed as red as the walls. But mutely he changed his pants and began to strip the bed. "So, today you will begin your studies with Soul, get him to draw something at this point I don't care what. Figure out what makes him tick. Find his mother and most of all finish the damn bond!" Sylvia took a moment to compose herself. She forced her face into another false smile. "I could still be proud of you, so could your Father. Don't you want that?" And in spite of himself, that was what Scott wanted. Soul stood in the doorway, his hair dripping down his back and his skin scalded red from the shower. He looked unsure, and Sylvia was happy to take advantage. "My sweetie!" She gushed. "I can't believe what my son did to you! It is unforgiveable, but I hope you will be able to. You know, he just can't help himself. He has told you, hasn't he. It is just too much pressure for someone like him. You know that isn't really an excuse, there is no excuse for this kind of behavior. But it is a bit my fault. You see when you were a baby I did a little- well. I might have made it a bit stronger last night. See Scott has never really been the best with relationships. I didn't know he would do something so terrible. Just come with me Darling and I'll get you all fixed up." She swept from the room and took Soul with her, an arm around his toweled waist. Sylvia dressed Soul, much to his embarrassment. She picked black soft pants like the night before with a midnight blue long sleeve shirt. Again it was tailored to show his every dip and curve. She even brushed and styled his hair, pinning it behind his ears, and lined his eyes in black. When she turned him to the mirror Soul felt even sicker. He looked nothing like himself. He looked vulnerable he looked like an easy target, a victim. "Sylvia?" He spoke for the first time. "Don't worry Darling Sweetie, everything will be alright. Just don't fight so hard." She brushed her hand down Soul's head and he felt calmer. Maybe he shouldn't fight so hard. It was all he had done all his life, and where had it gotten him? Sighing he nodded. He let a small smile grace his features and he and Sylvia entered the dining room arm in arm. Soul looked around the dining room with new eyes. It was truly beautiful. He leaned into Sylvia and laughed lightly. How could he have ever disliked her? She was so nice. Sylvia pulled a chair next to her own at the head of the table and pushed Soul gently into it, and sat in her own. She spoke as she piled food onto Soul's plate. "I know you are upset at my son. And you should be. But I would ask that you do work with him today. It is very important that we figure out what is happening." Soul nodded. Here away from Scott and in Sylvia's soothing presence he could imagine working with Scott. and The thought wasn't too bad. "Okay." He smiled at her again and began picking through the fruit on his plate. After lunch was finished Soul was lead to a library and settled in a chair to wait for Scott. He hummed as he waited. He was struck by the room's beauty. He ached to get his hands on some of the books, but Sylvia had told him to sit, so that was what he was going to do. Scott entered after indeterminable amount of time. He looked properly contrite. Soul considered being angry, but figured it wasn't worth the energy. After all it wasn't all Scott's fault. "Hello." Soul said pleasantly. "I am so, so sorry." Scott said, refusing to meet Soul's eyes. "Don't be." Soul smiled at him. "We have work to do. I know that I have to trust you. So I choose to forget this morning." Scott looked stricken. "Forget it? You would do that?" Scott sounded incredulous, and not as happy as Soul would have imagined him to. "You hurt me, and I am forgetting. Why are you not happy?" Soul didn't quite feel himself, but he didn't think Scott was acting rationally either. "What did she do to you?" Scott asked. Soul frowned. "Who did what?" Scott shook his head and walked closer. "We should begin. She will be coming to check soon enough." Soul didn't know why Scott would say such a thing in such a way. Why would he be so worried about someone checking in? They were only doing what they were supposed to be doing. But he ignored the thought. "Okay." He said and they began. ** Soul sat at a table in the library. There was a piece of paper in front of him and a pencil in his hand, he couldn't draw a thing. As the day had gone on Soul had begun to feel more himself, and his anger and hurt toward Scott were growing. "Just draw something!" Said Scott, his hands tightening in Soul's hair where they had rested for the past hours. "I can't just draw something! And you have no right to demand anything from me!" Soul's restraint crumpled. He pushed his chair back and whirled to face Scott. He could feel the color rising in his cheeks. He was humiliated, frustrated, and hurt. It was not a good combination. "You said you had forgotten." Scott said, backing up slowly, his hands held awkwardly away from him, as if he didn't know what to do with them. "How could I forget such a thing? Such a violation. I said no. Clearly and several times. I can't just forget that. Now you keep telling me to do things and demanding my trust. What have you done to deserve it?" Soul had to keep talking, talking or crying seemed to be his only options at the moment. "You didn't feel that way earlier." Scott let his hands drop. One of his eyebrows rose and Soul was reminded of the expression Scott had worn when he first met him all those months ago. The loathing that he had experienced then returned. "I want myself then. Your bitch Mother did something when I was in shock. In shock that my supposed beloved assaulted me." "I asked you, and you said you had forgotten. Things might have been different if you hadn't assured me-" "I hate you." Soul felt calmer now. His anger and desperation had faded. "I hate you and I hate this house. I hate that you turned art into something that it isn't. That you manipulated my feelings. That you are too stupid to realize that you will never hold me and know that I am yours. I won't do this for you. I won't stay in this house and pretend that I don't realize that there are things no one will tell me." Soul finished his speech with a sigh. All this time he had been used. Well that time was over. He walked from the library leaving a stunned Scott behind him. He trailed one hand down the wall as he walked down the hall. He hoped he could find his way out. "Hello" "We missed you." Soul froze. He looked up slowly at the familiar voices. Michelle and David smiled at him. "Hi." He said softly. He should have known that they were somehow involved. With all this mess he would have been surprised if they hadn't been. "We came because we knew you were feeling a bit torn. We want to tell you walking away is a very good idea." "Because then we get to convince you to stay." David and Michelle had never been this unified when Soul had known them. "What if I decide to stay on my own?" Soul didn't think he would like the twins' persuasion. "Then we won't bother you." Soul turned slowly and went back the way he came. Maybe there was another way out of the house. Maybe there was someone else that would help him. He thought of the different people in the house. There was Josie; she had said that the others were on his side, if his side was the same as theirs. Soul still didn't know how many sides there were. But even if she was, she was in no condition to help. Soul tiptoed past the library, and found himself without any idea of where to go next. Past the library there was a perpendicular hallway, closed doors lined both sides. Soul frowned and went right. Each of the doors were locked. He continued, and at the very end he found that the hall curved to the right. He followed it again, only to find the twins. "Where are you going?" "Do you need help finding something?" Soul shook his head and turned again, he walked slowly. Something gave him the impression sudden movements would invite pouncing. Feeling he had no choice Soul made his way back to the library. He found Scott where he left him, only now there were tears tracing down his cheeks. "Tell me who in this house doesn't want to destroy my life." Soul spoke quietly and deliberately. Scott didn't move. "I don't think anyone wants to destroy your life." Scott spoke almost too softly to hear. "Well tell me then, who wants to help me?" At this Scott slowly raised his head. "I want to help you. I just need one more chance. One more chance and I'll help you." There was so much hope in Scott's voice Soul couldn't help but believe him. "I don't want to give you any more chances. I have nothing to tell me that you have tried with any of the others. I know nothing of your motives-" "That is a lie!" Scott interjected. "You do know what I want. I want to be with you. I want to love you, I want you to love me." Scott began walking toward Soul as he spoke. Soul flinched but didn't back away. "That's not enough." Soul whispered. Scott ignored Soul's body language and cupped his face in his hands. "Look at me, really look, and tell me that I don't want what is best for you." Soul looked. He really looked, and hoped that the talent his Mother had seen in him wasn't wrong. Soul looked deep into Scott's blue eyes and thought. Did he believe him? Did he have any choice not to? "One more chance." Soul whispered. Scott's face lit up. "You wont regret it!" Scott ran his fingers the rest of the way through Soul's hair and took his hand. "We do need to get out of here though. Mom will know her mojo didn't quite work, and if the twins are here that means that the others are coming too..." Just then the door to the library opened. Sylvia was in front of the crowd, and with her were the twins and several others Soul had never seen. "What is going on in here? This doesn't look like progress." Sylvia had dropped her overly kind demeanor and looked every bit the evil villainess. Soul couldn't stifle a nervous giggle. Sylvia glared and it was obvious she wanted an answer. "I umm, umm." Soul took advantage of the blush that he could feel building. "I felt restless. I cant think with Scott so near, I umm just-" "Wanted a quickie." Finished Scott. Soul's face flamed. "Why don't I believe you?" Sylvia eyes were like daggers. Soul imagined them cutting into their excuse. "I'm sorry Mother." Scott spoke in a defeated tone. Soul shot him a look. It seemed the last chance would be short lived. "I couldn't bear my guilt. I have to make it up to Soul. I'm sure you can understand." Soul didn't think that Sylvia would, or could, understand a thing like guilt but she did soften slightly. "You may have today. Tomorrow I expect results." And with that Sylvia and her posse departed. "Tomorrow isn't going to be any better." Soul began as the door closed behind the pack. "I know. But we won't be here." Scott's face lit up once more. "We must talk to my siblings. ** Soul held his duffel bag handles loosely. "Scott, there is no way this is going to work." Soul said. Josie was too weak; Nova was too concerned about Josie. Soul had no idea where they were and didn't have any experience on his own. Melissa was okay, and Thomas seemed okay if a bit demanding, but the others hadn't wanted to come, or hadn't been around. Soul was concerned that a group of six being too conspicuous. "Soul, we have been waiting to do this for ages." Said Melissa. "You have just given us an excuse." "Is the plan to just leave? Or do we have some kind of distraction?" The group was silent in response to Josie's question. "Well," Melissa began after a long pause. "When we first planned this we had planned for Scott and Soul to finish the bond. The backlash of power would have put Sylvia out of commission and would have made her think everything was going with her plan." Charcoal Ch. 04 Scott looked stunned, and more than a little guilty. "Is that still the plan?" Soul asked quietly. It was a good plan, but one he wasn't really fond of. "We couldn't ask that of you, of course not!" Josie answered at once. The others remained silent. "Really? You would ask that? I cannot believe such a thing would even be suggested-" Josie would have gone on if her husband hadn't brushed a hand over her lips. "We hadn't thought of an alternative." Nova spoke quietly, almost apologetically. Soul stood silently. He couldn't think. Just when he thought things were getting better. "There is a way to fake it, it would wear off quickly and most likely have other side effects, but I read about it earlier. If Soul and Scott were to exchange blood it would cause a similar rush of power, but leave the bond unfinished. If we were to act quickly enough-" Melissa trailed off slowly. "That is rather dangerous isn't it, especially because- well the trust isn't quite there yet, and neither have done something so powerful." Nova also spoke quietly. The mood in the room was decidedly low. "Can we try it?" Soul broke the silence. "What does it entail?" Charcoal Ch. 05 Well it has been literally years, but here is the next (short) chapter. If you are anything like me, going back and reading the previous chapters is an excellent idea. I have really loved dipping my toes back into Soul and Scott's story and I hope you enjoy it too! As always any comments are welcome. Enough waiting here it is: ***** Cannibalism really wasn't what Soul wanted, but he still didn't trust Scott enough for anything else, and the others looked so expectant. Plus he couldn't just stay here, the morning had told him that if Sylvia got her way Soul wouldn't be thinking much ever again. As it turned out, they didn't get far enough for the bond, temporary or not, to be enacted. Right before leaving for a more private, and Soul assumed, romantic, location the door opened. Outside the twins waited. "Hello friends, we thought there weren't going to be any more meetings until tomorrow." Soul was terrified, but somewhere deep inside he was relieved, he knew Josie would have been able to make it and somehow Nova would find a way to blame him, and honestly he didn't think he could lead, how could he when he had no idea what was going on. He had no idea who was his friend, or where Sylvia's reach ended. Stuck here all he had to do was stay away from Scott and keep hold of his own thoughts. They were lead back to their rooms, Josie was crying softly. But she probably needed rest more than anything. She really should have been trying to run away, the stress in this house was more than she needed but more would probably kill her and her baby. Back in the scarlet room Scott flopped onto the bed. Soul paced. He was so blind to what was happening, he wanted to trust Scott, to believe that he didn't want to hurt him but he was so pushy and trust came to Soul slowly. He didn't know what he felt and wouldn't ever be able to know how he really felt, with whatever his mother had done to him, with whatever Sylvia was continuing to do to him. And even Scott couldn't know how he felt about Soul. The only reason he proclaimed to love him, and proclaimed he couldn't control himself was because of what his mother had done. Neither of them had chosen this by themselves, and yet, they would never be free of each other. "What are you thinking about?" Soul turned to look at Scott as he spoke, and Soul began to laugh. "What do you think I am thinking about?" Scott looked too relaxed for the situation. He had kicked off his shoes and had folded his t-shirt next to him. Soul considered if the escape attempt, as short lived as it was, had to do with a larger plan, were they trying to lure him into a false sense of camaraderie. Were they all on the same side? Maybe they were all really good actors; even Josie could be in on it. She had seemed really sick, but maybe she was still trying to do anything to get her parents approval. Maybe someone had done something to him when he was recovering from Nova's punch. He was so in the dark anything could be possible. Really the only person he could trust was Sylvia- trust her to be awful and do whatever she could to figure out whatever his drawings meant. Soul wished he could just trust Scott; he wished that he could just give up and not care who won. With so little knowledge he couldn't even decide he didn't care. Even Josie's story, assuming that it was true, and that she was really trying to be helpful didn't make any sense. He kind of knew the story of the allegory of the cave. But how it related to this he had no idea. If Scott was the light and he was drawing the shadows, what he drew still wouldn't be the truth, it would be indecipherable. And if Scott were the light then they would have to ask him and be hurt to figure it out anyway. Plus they would know what he was drawing. The shadows were the easy part. But then his mother, what had she done? Chain them so the shadows made even less sense? Obscure them even more? "What am I thinking?" Soul began "I am thinking that no matter what I do something bad will happen. I am thinking that everything anyone has told me has just made me feel more lost. I am thinking that I would do anything to get out of here, but I don't know how or what I would do if I did escape. I am wondering if everything wouldn't just be better if I was dead." Before he said it Soul didn't even know that he had considered if being dead wouldn't be better. He had never explicitly thought in his life, but now that he had it in the front of his mind why not? Everyone just wanted to use him. He didn't have any real friends; even the twins had been a ploy. And if he were dead no one would be able to use him for evil. He laughed at the thought evil. He hadn't considered seriously that people or acts or anything could be truly evil until the past month. And here he was considering killing himself to stay away from it. Scott looked stricken, but the more Soul thought, the better idea it seemed, it felt like the only original idea he had had in a long while, the only idea he could trust was really his. Everyone else wanted him for something, needed something from him, but this, the ultimate self centered act. No matter what came after Soul could be sure it would be his. "Soul you can't" the anguish on Scott's face was almost satisfying to Soul, he didn't know if he hated the other boy, he probably didn't but still in this moment where he was so sure of his next act he felt secure. Scott would be the first person that wouldn't be able to hold onto him, the first person that wouldn't be able to use him, the first person that would have to let him go. "What about me, what about your mother what about..." Soul ignored him. It was his decision to make and no one could stop him, not really. His mother would be sad, but if anything they had said about her were true, she would be proud. Proud that he too would do anything to stay away from these people. But then he had another thought. His mother had escaped from this; she had hidden herself and him for years and years. Well the twins knew but they hadn't bothered them until Soul left. His mother could help him. Why hadn't he thought of her until now? "I can if I want." It was a childish response to something so huge, but Soul had to think, really think. How could he get away from here himself? How could he get home without drawing them to his mother, there were so many impossible obstacles but he could do it. And if he couldn't he had the ultimate plan b. But how would he do it. It would have to be fast, resolute, something that he couldn't come back from. Calmer that he had something concrete to work on, a thought that he was sure was unchanged, Soul felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He slipped off he pants and shirt. They had been for traveling, for fighting and running and would be useless for sleep. Being skin to skin with Scott wasn't really what he wanted. But let Scott think he was comforted, that he was diverted from suicide. Let him think they were planning together. *** Soul woke feeling the calm from the night before. He felt Scott pressed close to his back and felt his arms tight around him. Soul stayed still. He didn't know what had provoked Scott the morning before but even that didn't faze him. He knew what to do to please Sylvia. He knew what he had to do to please Scott, and for his plan to work he had to seem as pliable and agreeable as possible. He could use anything to make sure his plan worked and even Scott's guilt could be useful. But still a plan a was preferable, Soul wanted to take no chances of falling out of himself, of getting lost in kisses or anything else. And despite himself a blush burned across his cheeks. Apparently this small change was enough to wake Scott. One of his arms loosened from around Soul's waist and he brushed a hand across Soul's burning cheek. "Are you feeling okay?" Scott's voice was both sleepy and concerned, but clear, nothing like the morning before. Relieved, but a bit sorry he wouldn't be able to use guilt to cover his scheming Soul turned in Scott's arms. He kissed Scott on the nose and snuggled into him. Whether or not Soul trusted him feeling arms securely around him was a nice feeling, and once the day truly began Soul had a feeling the nice feelings would be few and far between. *** Soul expected breakfast to be one of the worst experiences yet, but somehow Sylvia didn't seem phased by the escape attempt. She didn't even mention it. She smiled almost genuinely at Scott and Soul as the entered the dining room. Maybe it was because they were holding hands, or maybe it was because her plan was working. The meal was mostly in silence, leaving everyone to scheme on their own, and Soul was sure that that was what was happening. Everyone was there, the twins and siblings, everyone who had entered the room before. Only Josie was absent. Soul felt bad for suspecting her, and realized that even if she was somehow in on the scheme he didn't blame her. She truly seemed terrified, and to feel, really feel, the resentment everyone felt toward her must be unimaginably painful. After the dishes were cleared Scott lead Soul to the library again, this time the both sat at one of the large oak tables. Their places were set with expensive sets of graphite pencils and charcoal, and huge pieces of watercolor paper. Instead of truly trying to draw like he did yesterday Soul picked up a fine pencil immediately and began to draw a tree. It was, of course, awful. But he was drawing and when Sylvia stuck her head in the room and saw a pencil in his hand she smiled. Soul smiled too, maybe his plan would work. As he filled in his tree and added some grass underneath he considered what he was up against and what the information he had was. He wished he could draw a diagram to help himself figure it out. Or talk it over with someone, but he didn't need the nausea his mother had given him to tell him both of those options were horrible ideas. Soul tried to remember things from his childhood, hints that might help him figure out his mother's side of things, or what the twins had to do with everything. His pencil froze on the paper. The twins- they had seen his pictures any number of times, had nightmares about them, and had spoken with his mother many times. Maybe, they were, double agents. Soul scoffed to himself at his lack of terminology. But the idea remained. Telling them things had never hurt. And honestly they had never hurt him until they left him for college; thought that apparently hadn't happened either. There was an enormous chance that he was wrong, but Soul had to know. He had to find some way to ask them without Sylvia finding out, or realizing what he was doing. And even harder he had to get a minute away from Scott who was watching him like a baby watches her mother from another's arms. Without guilt Soul didn't know how to shake him. Even a trip to the bathroom would most likely require an escort. Soul had an idea, another crystal clear spring of an idea; it was so obvious he would have been suspicious of it. But he had found his stride; maybe he would survive this world after all. After finishing a final bunny that looked like a second graded had drawn it, soul stood up. He had been thinking of the dirtiest stories he had ever read, told, or watched and was sufficiently flushed. He unwound his hand from Scott's. When Scott looked up from his own doodles his lips twitched up slightly. Soul met his eyes with his own, knowing his pupils were blown and that he gaze would be more intense than usual, something he guessed Scott really wouldn't be able to take. He was right. With a few murmured words of needing to "walk it off" "breathe" and "take a moment" he was free. Again as his clarity had granted him he knew that he would find the twins if he went somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. He found his way to the perpendicular hallways with all the locked doors. After trying some of the still locked doors the twins walked around the corner. Soul decided to jump right into it. "You have both seen everything I drew before college, you knew and know my mother. Why can I talk to you with no pain." The twins looked at each other and in that uncanny way they had communicated what their next sentence would be. Michelle nodded softly and then David began to speak "We can't talk here, but you are onto something. Think harder" "You always were a smart one. When you feel something know that you are right." "You can talk to us, you have always been able to talk to us." "But not here" "Never here" Michelle reached into her pocket and brought out a photo, it was the three of them when they were very little. "Its for you" they both spoke. It almost looked like David had tears in his eyes. But then with a quick look over Soul's shoulder the mask of coldness smoothly folded over their features. "You should get back to work." Soul tucked the picture into his pocket and just that moment, just as Michelle finished speaking Sylvia came around the corner, an exhausted looking Josie at her side. "That is wonderful advice Soul, go." And Soul went. Charcoal Ch. 06 Thank you so much for your comments! Any and all are welcome. It has been a while since I have written anything and its's tricky to get back into practice. Its so encouraging to know people are reading (and sometimes even enjoying) my work. * Soul went back to his drawing and doodles some birds in the clouds, he knew Sylvia wasn't going to be happy with him once she saw how inane his drawing was, but honestly Soul didn't care, he had plans, ideas, and even possibly people to help him with them. Maybe he could get home, maybe he could escape, and best of all he could find out some answers. The day finished without incident. Sylvia was civil through dinner and still didn't mention the escape attempt. The others were there too, looking worried, but no worse than any other day. Soul could almost imagine that it had never happened. Soul would be almost relaxed, armed, as he was, with his new plan. But Scott was watching Soul constantly, probably aware that he had a plan. Soul wondered how much he could share, how much he was willing to share. He did feel a connection to Scott, but how much of it was an actually friendship and how much of it was constructed? Though in the past hours he had felt much more balanced toward Scott, he still couldn't trust his feelings. He wished the clarity he felt toward the other parts of his plan would expand to how he felt about Scott. Dinner ended and Scott and Soul headed back to their room. The red walls seemed oppressive and Soul wasted no time stripping of his formal dinner wear. He sat on the bed and thought hard. He would have liked to think longer but the feeling of Scott's weight hitting the bed and then his arms closing around Soul's shoulders shorted out his thoughts and made any sort of heavy duty reflection impossible. Revulsion and attraction fought within Soul and made him feel nauseous. He pulled himself free and began to pace around the room. But his trains of thoughts had been throughly derailed. "What are you thinking about?" Scott lazed on the bed and looked both delightfully edible and terrifying. "You." Soul answered. He hadn't decided what he was going to share but he knew he had to start somewhere. He decided that Scott deserved the truth, even if it wasn't all of it. He remembered the first time he had felt any calm before today- it had been when he started to share a few things with Scott. It had been the first hint that he had done something right, he wanted to continue with that. "What do you mean." Scott had sat up a little at Soul's word, but still looked like a throughly debauched lord or some manor. And if Sylvia got her way he eventually would be. Soul took a deep breath. "I mean I am trying to decide what to tell you. I know I need to tell you the truth. But I don't want to tell you all of it." Scott shrugged. "I also want you to promise not to tell." Scott nodded and sat the rest of the way up, aware now that they weren't just talking about their relationship. There was something deeper going on, and Soul was willing to share. "I promise not to tell." Soul took another deep breath. "So we obviously didn't get out. I had a feeling that it wouldn't work. And I began to think that maybe it wasn't a good idea, then after when nothing happened I began to wonder if somehow Sylvia had something to do with it." Scott opened his mouth to talk but shut it again when Soul held up a hand. "I began to feel really nervous about doing anything. I don't know anything still. I don't know what anyone wants me to tell them or what to do but then I began thinking of all the people that know things." "My mother knew everything, and the twins, well they knew my mother, they lived across the street for years and no one ever bothered me. They knew where my mother was this whole time. They can't be on her side- not entirely right? And I need to see my mother. Somehow she has stayed out of this for this long. She must know how to help me." Scott nodded and leaned forward. "That all makes sense, but my mother has her hands in a lot of people's pockets. Even more than you might guess. Its really scary but you have to trust someone right?" Scott sounded extremely sad and for a moment Soul felt bad. He couldn't imagine growing up in this place. If he wasn't so confused about his own feelings he might have wanted to be friends with Scott. He hoped someday this would all be over and they would be able to start over. Soul felt deflated. He really wished he wasn't a part of any of this. He wished he had been born someone else. Someone that had no special talents. He wished he was stupid, he wished he couldn't draw, he wished he had just given up at the beginning. Right now he just wanted to sleep. Planning could wait until the morning. After they had both brushed their teeth and put on soft sleeping shorts they found in one of the dressers Scott walked around to what had become his side of the bed. He picked up a pillow and started toward the living room. A large part of Soul wanted to let him go. He wanted to think, he wanted his own space. But he realized and even larger part of him did want to trust. He was so tired of feeling alone, of feeling trapped and confused. "Come back." Soul slithered under the smooth covers and opened his arms. Scott looked conflicted and almost as lost as Soul felt. "Just to sleep, please?" Slowly Scott started back toward the bed. He faced the wall and stayed as far to the side as he could without falling off. Soul felt awful- he didn't want to push but he did kind of want to be held. Just for now before he had to really decide what to do with Scott. Soul pushed down the artificial feelings that he could feel rising and pulled Scott's arm across his waist. He could feel Scott resisting, but when Soul threatened to keep sliding backward Scott was in serious danger of falling off the bed if he didn't cuddle back. Soul kept trying to push the feelings down and he fell asleep, but just before he succumbed to sleep he relaxed and all at once, the minute he stopped fighting, the good and the bad began to fade. * Soul had many many dreams that night, some of them were of his pictures, something that had never happened to him again, the images were usually restricted to his art, and other dreams that he almost woke from dreams where he thought he was dying dreams where he was with Scott. Sometimes Scott would save him sometimes Scott was killing him and sometimes Scott was the monster Soul befriended. When Soul woke he couldn't remember his dreams, he was just still exhausted and edgy. He woke wrapped in Scott's arms, half on top of him with one of his legs between Scott's. Soul waited to see what mood Scott would be in when he woke. Luckily when Scott opened his eyes they were clear, if a bit surprised to discover their position. "Did you sleep well?" Scott asked. He had been dreaming of Soul waking him with a blowjob. It was an excellent dream, but seeing Soul's deep green eyes so close was almost better. It reminded Scott of their meeting in the rose garden, of seeing Soul wake up in that slow way. Scott resolved that one day he was going to wake up before Soul so he could watch it. It had been his dream for years to wake up with Soul in his bed and now it was happening and it wasn't anything like he had expected. "I had a lot of dreams." Soul said in response. Scott squeezed him and smiled. "So did I" But Soul's face suggested their dreams had very different themes. "What did you dream about?" Soul scrunched up his face a bit at that and Scott thought it was beyond adorable, especially when he noticed Soul had the lightest sprinkle of freckles across his cheeks. He realized that he hadn't been able to look at the other man this closely before. Especially not in such a clear state of mind. "You kinda, I think." Soul answered. Scott was only half listening to him. "I dreamt of you too." Scott brushed a finger along Soul's cheek "You have freckles." Soul took the small bit of freedom to his advantage and slid out of Scott's arms. He headed to the the shower. He needed to think. He was sure that today Sylvia would be after him to draw something that was actually relevant. He wouldn't be able to give any excuses and he had to figure out how to speak with the twins. He had to make a plan before anything else happened. And from all the talk it seemed like whatever was happening was just beginning to happen. Soul pulled off his pajama pants as soon as he reached the bathroom. He had left the door open so he could talk. "Scott?' Soul should have guessed that Scott would not answer from the bedroom but he was still surprised when Scott's head appeared in the bathroom door. "Yeah?" Scott answered but he again wasn't really listening. He was busy looking at Soul's naked back and naked- everything else. Even without being influenced unduly by the bond Soul was indescribably beautiful, and when he turned Scott could see that he blushed all the way down to his toes. Soul immediately tried to cover himself. He knew Scott had seen it, everything, but not like this, not clearheaded, and not with such a good vantage point. They stood for a moment looking at each other, Soul felt frozen. He had felt like prey so many times in this house but this time he almost enjoyed it. He felt like he wouldn't mind being chased. But after a few moments of being trapped in Scott's butterscotch smooth eyes Soul's rational mind took over. He had called Scott for a reason, and the reason was not to ogle his naked body. Soul wrapped a towel around himself and tried to gather his slowly scattering thoughts. It felt a bit like herding cats but he managed. He cleared his throat and began again. "Um, so before when I told you everything I know." Scott nodded. "And you promised that you wouldn't share. Can you do that again?" Scott nodded, Soul waited. "Okay I promise I won't tell whatever you are about to tell me." Soul realized that this wasn't as reliable of a method as he had imagined. He didn't know when Scott began and ended his understanding of not telling. But remembering their discussion Soul decided to just trust and try. The twins had said for him to trust his feelings, to trust them. And what other choice did he have. "You have to help me find a way to talk to the twins alone. No Sylvia, no you, no anyone but us." Scott looked a bit hurt that he wasn't to be included but nodded. "There should be a way for that to happen. I'll think about it." Soul nodded, then looked significantly to the door. Scott laughed, but left the bathroom and closed the door behind him. * After breakfast Scott and Soul found themselves back in the library with new sheets of paper and the same sets of pencils. Soul stared at the blank expanse in front of him. He knew that he needed to do something real, but he also couldn't draw the forest. He needed something in the middle. He thought of the first time he had drawn with Scott, in Professor White's office. He could draw Scott, he could draw the poppies. He could draw anything that was peripheral. He knew the forest was what they were after but if he really could See, if stood to reason that he could see things other than the forest, he just had to see something else. "Scott, I want to draw you- will you help?" "How?" Soul shrugged, he didn't know how, but that wasn't his job. "Do whatever you did in Professor Whites office." Soul missed Scott's blush, but he leaned into Scott's hands when the other man stood behind him and ran his fingers through Soul's hair. "All I did was trust you could do it. I knew you could then and I know you can now." Soul looked at the page in front of him, then picked up a charcoal pencil. He started in the middle- with Scott's long, soft, featherlike eyelashes. * The image was beautiful. Soul looked at it from a distance, as usual he didn't feel anything toward the picture. He tried to look at it objectively but when he really looked he couldn't stop the creeping blush. He had drawn Scott yes, but Soul was also in the picture. He could recognize himself even if all you could see was his back, and even if his hair was even longer than it was now. Scott's eyelashes were lying against his cheeks, his eyes closed, his head was tilted back and his mouth slightly open, with just a hint of tongue showing. He was holding Soul on his lap, Soul's head on his shoulder looking away, hidden by his hair and they- well they were naked and they were having sex. And from the look of it it was good. Soul really wanted to flip over the piece of paper, to burn it, to somehow unsee what he had seen or rather Seen. There was nothing ambiguous or allegorical to that picture. Soul bit his lip and turned to look at Scott who after a while had simply sat across from him holding his hand and making doodles of his own. Soul hoped that Scott would still be looking at his own piece of paper but he had no such luck. The second Soul had stopped his steady shading Scott had put down his own pencil. He was looking at Soul's drawing with half a smirk on his face. Soul was glad that he wasn't looking at Soul's face, he could feel the burning in his cheeks. "I like what you see." Scott laughed and Soul yanked his hand away. He was embarrassed and didn't want to be laughed at. He stood as if to walk away, but when he turned to the door somehow Scott was there in front of him. Scott caught him before he could scurry around and held Soul by his hips. But this time his touch was gentle, firm and Soul didn't think he was going to let go, but it was, in its way, a comforting touch. "I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing because I'm happy." Soul still didn't look up. He had only barely believed that he could predict or See anything, he felt like yes maybe his pictures had meaning but only peripherally. This, what he had just done felt very intensely like a premonition. He wished he knew when it was or how it would happen. He felt out of control and like there was nothing he could do to change events. The weight of his 'gift' felt like it was crushing him, another straw added to his load. Soul just wanted to cry. He wanted to run away, he wanted to be held, he wanted to know the answers to every one of his questions but he didn't know where to begin. "Hey-" Scott tilted soul's face up to meet his eyes. Don't worry about it okay?" Soul felt like he did was drowning in Scott's eyes. He reached one hand up to touch the eyelashes he felt so drawn to. This small part of Scott was safe, this small part of him didn't have to do with everything else. For the first time Soul kissed another human being. He wasn't being kissed, he took action. He reached his other hand around Scott's neck, he buried his hands in Scott's soft hair, realizing for the first time he hadn't really touched it before, looked into his eyes, and kissed him. Scott's lips were smooth, warm, and he tasted like coffee. Soul hadn't thought of what he would do once he had started the kiss, but for once thinking didn't get in his way, he just did what felt right. Scott let Soul kiss him for as long as he could, but when Soul pulled back slightly to sigh against Scott's lips he couldn't help himself anymore. He wrapped his hands around Soul's waist and lifted him, Soul's legs snaked around Scott's waist just like he had imagined so many times, and clung on with a strength Scott didn't expect. When he could breathe again Soul gripped Scott's hair tighter and kissed him deeper, he wanted to taste every inch of him, starting with his mouth. If he could climb inside him and explore from the inside he would have done that, but for now it was enough to sweep his tongue though every bit of Scott he could reach. Soul didn't realize that he was undulating against Scott's body, but Scott noticed, he couldn't imagine anything hotter than Soul pleasuring himself against Scott, the muscles on Soul's back strained as he flexed against Scott, trying to feel as much as he could. If he could think of anything other than Scott's mouth he would have felt the delicious burning in his muscles and deeper, he would have felt the blood rush to his penis, he would have felt the burning in the bowl of his pelvis, felt the need to be filled, to be possessed, to be completely powerless in the face of pleasure, but instead the only thought that was in his mind was getting his tongue as deep as he could, tasting every inch that he could. Scott flinched at the sharp sound of Soul's head hitting the wall he had backed them into, but Soul made no indication he had felt anything. With the added support of the wall Scott was able to pull back a bit to breathe, he was able to snake his hand into the back of Soul's black pants, as tight as they were they were meant to sit low and Scott was just able to grab a handful of Soul's ass in one hand. Barely satisfied with one handful, but unwilling to put Soul down Scott kissed his way down Soul's neck, finding the fading marks he had left before, strangely proud they still were visible, Scott found a perfect spot, just below Soul's ear, that made Soul moan deep in his throat and slam his head back into the wall, Scott began to worry the area with his lips and tongue, gratified at the sharp gasps and moans that he had imagined slipping from Soul's lips for years. Finally he heard them, finally he had Soul in his arms. Soul felt consumed, but clear, there was no sign of unnatural feeling, the only desperation he felt was his own. He wanted to get closer to Scott, but there was no urge to go further, he would be happy here forever. Wherever it came from Soul loved it. If this was his glimpse into the future he didn't mind going there. Scott's mouth on his neck felt like heaven and Soul couldn't keep the sounds from pouring from his mouth, he knew vaguely he would be embarrassed later but now all he could do was hold on for dear life and hope the moment would never end. "Mother says- oops" The soft voice somehow cut through the dizzy wanting, and Soul found himself suddenly feet away from Scott, his pants were somehow half unzipped and he was sure his lips were swollen and a flush graced his cheeks. Soul ran a hand through his hair sure it was beyond hope, and still all he wanted to do is laugh. Scott however had been immediately torn from his living dream, his sister's voice was like ice water and his mothers name like the electric chair. "Oh no, she'll be so mad I interrupted." Josie looked so afraid for a moment Soul was afraid she would pass out. "Don't worry, you aren't stopping anything. See we still have all our clothes on." He smiled at her hoping she could tell he wasn't upset, that his good mood wasn't driving by whatever Talents were floating around. It was just him, and just Scott. "Um, okay, she wants to see you. Both of you." Josie turned slowly and leaned against the door frame for a minute before leaving the room. "Is she going to be okay?" Soul asked. Scott shrugged, "Only time will tell." After straightening their clothes the boys steeled themselves to see Sylvia. Soul was about to ask where they were supposed to meet her when she came sweeping into the room, her outfit was a dark red floor length gown and she had laurel leaves woven into her elaborate hairstyle. She looked like a witch. "I hope you have made some progress, because your day is far from over. The others have come and you need to be dressed." The sickly sweet demeanor was back and Soul could feel it in the air like a cloying perfume. Scott held Soul's drawing out to her, a slight blush crossing his face. She held the paper like it was a gift bestowed to her by her most beloved friend, she cradled it to her chest after looking at it. "Oh my lovely Soul, I knew you would come through, I knew you could do it. I just can't wait for the day when this takes place, for when my son will finally fall into his place, and you can See what we all need you to see." She smiled and Soul's impression of something oppressive trying to force its way through his pores got stronger, and in a flash of insight he knew what Sylvia's Talent was. Charcoal Ch. 06 * It could have been a subtle Talent but it was Sylvia. As she was sweeping them out of the library and upstairs to 'prepare themselves to be truly met' Soul thought. She could influence mood. That's how she got everyone to do what they wanted, that's why the house was so oppressive, that was why it was all so vague. Soul wondered if she knew what her Talent was, or if she just knew that she always got her way. She had wanted him to forgive Scott and he had, she had wanted him to want Scott and he had, she had wanted him to feel frightened, and he had been. But once his decisions were made they were set and a mood wouldn't change it. Filing the information for later consideration Soul began his second shower of the day and prepared to meet The Others. Charcoal Ch. 07 The meeting was a formality as far as Soul could tell. Luckily he didn't have to say much. He stood and heard name after name after name. He eventually gave up trying to remember them and instead focused on figuring out what to do about the twins. His meeting with them had been productive, or rather reassuring. But now he didn't know what to do. He had to find a way to really talk to them. Sylvia was happy with him at the moment, but it would only take a whisper of disobedience to completely ruin the little bit of progress he had made. When they left the hall Soul had only learned how deeply outnumbered they were. Even assuming all of Scott's siblings weren't on Sylvia's side there were still so many others that were. They had met nearly fifty new people that evening- people that had traveled to see her- to help her. Fighting wouldn't work. The only think that could work was hiding. Soul had to find a way to speak with the twins. Soul stared at the wall in the scarlet room. Even after being here for so long he couldn't think of it as his room, or even really as a bedroom. It was so far from being comforting, even though he did sleep there it was always and uneasy sleep. "Whatcha thinking about?" Scott seemed unnaturally cheerful for the situation, as he seemed a lot of the time. His moods really didn't seem logical. But with Sylvia's continued influence it made sense that Scott's emotions would be off. Though his unflagging optimism was, Soul supposed, remarkable in its own rate. He had never been a happy person and compared to Scott his childhood had been filled with sunshine and daisies. "Have you always known the twins?" It wasn't what Soul had meant to say, but it might help him figure out when the lines had been drawn, help him figure out where they really fit into all of this. Help him figure out what the factions really were. "Umm forever I think. I don't remember meeting them. I didn't see them much when I was really little. Just a few days here and there. I always thought they were a little creepy to tell you the truth." Soul nodded. From what he had seen from them here they really were disconcerting. He found himself thinking of them as just 'the Twins' almost as if they had completely ceased to have personalities of their own. And from what he had seen they were simply halves of the same whole. Even if they were on his side now, or on a side that wasn't Sylvia's, Soul didn't trust them completely. How could he when they had spent so much time with him before and never mentioned how much trouble he was in? And that their previous, very different, personalities were obviously a front. No one here was really as they seemed. Even Soul felt like he was changing. The next morning after breakfast Soul found himself again sitting at the table across from Scott, Scott began drawing at once, it was another portrait of Soul, this time it was Soul in the rose garden, just slowly waking up. Soul frowned at the picture, he didn't like how vulnerable he looked, and he didn't like remembering what his life was like before, or what it could have been. What he had imagined had nothing to do with what was happening and he really didn't like the way things had turned out. He sulked staring at his blank paper. He didn't feel like drawing. He especially didn't feel like drawing anything like he had the day before. Though what had followed was the nicest thing since he had been here. He let himself drift into his memories, slowly mixing with daydreams. He was almost content for a few moments. But then Sylvia swept into the room, he could feel her energy almost before she entered, it felt frantic, anxious. Soul wondered if they were her feelings or the feelings she wanted him to feel. Soul just felt irritated. He didn't want to be in the present. He was rather enjoying his daydreams. "Hello mother." Scott smiled beatifically at his mother and Soul was momentarily stunned. Both at the beauty he kept trying to ignore in Scott, and surprised that he could bestow such a look on his mother even knowing what her intentions were, even after she had done to him for so many years. There was a lot he didn't understand about Scott, and his relationship with his mother was one of the biggest mysteries. How he could love someone that was so obviously evil was unimaginable, and yet, somehow, Scott loved her. "Soul, you did a fairly good job yesterday, but by this time you had begun. You will really have to hurry up or I will be very upset." She didn't acknowledge her son before she grabbed a book seemingly at random from a shelf behind him and left the room. Scott looked upset, but quickly returned to his good humor, he didn't speak but smiled down at his picture and began to hum as he continued to draw. The tune was almost familiar to Soul; he looked down at his blank paper and let the sound wrap around him. He focused again on Scott, and let the pencil move freely across the paper. When Soul finished he could feel Scott's breath ruffling his hair, he was right behind Soul, but his hands were on the back of Soul's chair, not touching him. It was the first thing Soul noticed. In the past, in every one of their interactions Scott had taken any chance to touch Soul, and not he had a perfect reason to, a perfect position to and he wasn't taking it. Soul turned his attention to his picture. It was the two of them again, but the picture was much darker. Soul way lying on his back, his eyes closed there were dark circled under his closed eyes. He looked like he could be sleeping- or, more likely, dead. Scott was kneeling beside him, his face wet with tears and his eyes staring. They were in this library, Soul had drawn the table in the corner of the page, and opposite of it was a bookshelf. But most of the page was blank, stark; the obvious subject was Scott's anguish. Soul shrugged. He didn't really care, why would he. Plus it didn't have to come true; who know it could be some obscure metaphor. Scott didn't really care about the picture. It wasn't a picture he wanted to look at, it wasn't one he did want to look at. Looking at it made Soul feel nothing. "Don't worry about it. It is just a picture." Scott didn't speak at Soul's words. Soul turned to look at him and even though Scott's breath was even he was crying. Soul sighed. And stood. Scott took a step away from him and kept crying. Soul wanted to comfort him, but didn't know how. It was the first time Scott had stepped away from him, had avoided his touch. Soul didn't want to overstep his bounds but he wanted Scott to stop. Soul was the one who got overwhelmed; he was the one that stepped away that needed comforting. The change in dynamics was not something Soul liked and he wanted it to stop. Scott reached the edge of the room, nudging a bookshelf before stopping. Soul didn't want to crowd him but he did want to do something. He took Scott's hand in his; it was cool, almost clammy. He brought it up to his mouth and kissed the knuckles, the palm, and the fingers. Then lost again, he just looked at it. Soul had no experience with comforting people, it wasn't anything he had ever expected to do and now he just felt inadequate. Scott's fingers were long and tapered, his nails trimmed carefully, and very short. His skin was soft on the backs, almost silky but the undersides had calluses from painting, writing, and Soul would later find out sculpting. His hands were beautiful. He was beautiful and Soul didn't want him to be sad. Soul let the hand drop, reassured when it didn't fall, but hovered for a moment, as if Scott was going to take Soul's hand again. Soul almost wished he had. When Soul looked up into Scott's face he was glad to see a smile, even if it was framed by tears and just a ghost of what he has shown Sylvia before. "I'm sorry," Scott began softly "I don't want to make you worry." Soul shrugged. He wasn't worried, not really. "I just don't want you to be sad. I think I have decided that I don't hate you." "You think?" Scott smiled again and this time it was more of the teasing smirk that Soul had hated when they had first met. He welcomed it; it was infinitely better than the tears, or even the melancholy first smile. "I think." Soul repeated. He smiled at Scott, and thought of the last time he had really smiled at Scott, wondered when he had really smiled at anyone. He couldn't remember really but didn't want to dwell. He kissed Scott instead, standing just a bit on his toes to reach. He meant for it to be a quick kiss, just a brush of his lips to Scott's, and apology, a distraction. But Scott caught Soul's hand against his chest then wrapped his other hand around Soul's back and deepened the kiss. Soul could have pulled back but he didn't want to. Wrapped in Scott's arms he felt comforted. He could make Scott feel better and it was one of the best feelings he had experienced in a long time. Soul deepened the kiss, ignoring the burn in his calves as he stayed on his toes. He pushed Scott back into the bookshelf and rubbed his chest against Scott's. Scott caught his breath and pulled back for a moment. Soul opened his eyes and let himself settle back on his heels. He was about to pull away when Scott switched their positions. Soul felt his back hit the books and grunted. It was a bit harder than he would prefer but he was immediately distracted by Scott's lips on his again. Soul's heels were firmly on the ground but Scott swooped down to his lips. Soul let his head be supported by the ancient leather-bound books. Not caring if they were pushed back on the shelf. He was absorbed in Scott's touch his taste. Cinnamon and coffee. Delicious and addicting and Soul didn't want Scott to ever let him go. Scott's hands trailed down Soul's body almost tickling as they crept up under his shirt. Soul didn't want the kiss to stop but obediently put his hands over his head and let the silky material of the shirt pass across his face. His skin felt hot and the soft breeze coming though the windows felt amazing. Soul let his own hands tug at Scott's shirt, luckily it buttoned. Scott began unbuttoning it with one hand while the other stroked again, almost tickling up and down Soul's now naked sides. The feeling made Soul feel lightheaded, it made his heart pound. He could feel himself swelling in his pants. He felt trapped but in the best way possible in the cage of Scott's arms. Soul looked for the feeling of desperation, of unnatural want, but didn't find it. He felt free in his desire. He wanted Scott for Scott, for his tickling touches, for his tears, for his unflagging optimism. Scott shrugged out of his shirt and Soul moaned into his mouth, the feeling of Scott's naked chest on his was magnificent, he could feel the soft dusting of silky hair, the heat, the smooth skin and the beginnings of sweat. Soul dug his fingers into Scott's back, he wanted him closer, and he wanted to meld into one person. Scott slid his now free hand through Soul's hair, and down his neck, his back, and over his pants, cupping his ass. Soul moaned again and arched into Scott's touch, apparently he could get closer, but even that was not enough. He wanted to ask for more but couldn't pull himself away from Scott's kisses, he had to wait- and he burned. It was Scott that pulled away first and Soul chased his mouth almost desperate, almost ready to beg, but Scott had his hands on Soul's pants, he was undoing the button, then sliding his hand into Soul's briefs. The second he felt Scott's hand on him Soul began to shake. He hadn't imagined that something so simple could feel so good, so natural. But first he wanted Scott as desperate as he was. Soul gathered all the restraint he had and grabbed Scott's hands. Scott looked up- startled and almost fearful "Too much? I'll-" Soul shook his head looking for the words to explain what he wanted. But he wasn't one for words, not really. Soul pressed a kiss to Scott's chest and shook his head. His hands went to Scott's belt and unbuckled it. Soul undid the button and slid down the zipper as carefully as he could make himself. He was short of breath he wanted to see Scott- all of him. He wanted to make Scott fall apart; he wanted to show him that without all of this, maybe they could have been together, happily. Soul didn't want to look, he didn't want the anticipation to be over, but slowly he sunk to his knees pulling Scott's pants with him. There was nothing underneath but skin, smooth skin with just a few freckles. Soul made himself wait, made himself breathe before he looked. Scott smelled like soap, and even more like himself here and Soul decided he liked it, he liked Scott, and he liked everything about him but his mother. Banishing that thought Soul leaned in and opened his eyes again, and looked. Scott's penis curved up gently like it wanted to kiss his stomach, it was flushed and at the base trimmed gingery curls wrapped around his balls. Soul blushed; he couldn't believe he was here, in a library looking at his- looking as Scott's- cock? Dick? DNA Cannon? Soul giggled at the thought and kissed it, whatever he would call it, it was beautiful. The skin was so silky against his lips Soul wanted to feel more. He wrapped a hand around it and one around himself, he pulled slightly and still it wasn't enough, Soul placed another kiss at the tip and then licked the crystalline droplet that awaited him, it was salty, sweet, but also tasted like nothing, his impression was fleeting, he needed more. Soul stroked again then brought his other hand to Scott's hip resting it against the grove of the muscle there. He pushed his thumb into the depression and stroked. Then again, and again, he was rewarded with another drop, he kissed it away again and again the sensation was too fleeting for Soul to be satisfied. Soul was about to repeat the process, but he felt Scott's hands slide through his hair. Soul moaned and leaned into the feeling letting the head of Scott's cock slide into his mouth as he hummed. He couldn't get enough of the taste, the smell, the feel of Scott. Soul felt Scott's hands dig deeper in his hair, felt Scott's fingernails against his scalp, and couldn't imagine anything better. Scott's hands drew Soul gently closer, nudged himself slowly farther into Soul's mouth. Soul didn't want it to ever end, he wanted more, and so he took more he made himself swallow around Scott's girth and the tightening of the hands in his hair and the deep guttural sounds he could feel more than hear made it any discomfort worth it. Soul looked up to see Scott's face and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He wished he could draw him like this, even get over his hatred of paints to immortalize this moment, Scott's expression, forever. His head was thrown back his eyes closed, mouth open just a touch, like he was waiting for a kiss, the blush riding just above his cheekbones emphasized how strong they were and his eyelashes were resting almost innocently above the flush. Soul wished he could touch them, remembering their softness, but equally unwilling to let go. All too soon it was over, Scott looked down and their eyes met, and for one moment it was perfect, but Scott's legs began to shake and Soul could feel him grow in his mouth, just barely that side of too much, but before he could really pull back he felt goose bumps run up Scott's legs, his eyes closed and Soul's mouth was filled with Scott's essence. Soul swallowed, then swallowed again, hiccupped and smiled. He wanted to do it again but he settled back and sat on his heels and let his neck rest against the books. Scott let his knees bend and flopped onto the ground next to Soul. "Well fuck." Scott said, and somehow is sounded like a prayer. "Well said." Soul wanted to bask in the moment but he was aware of the ache beginning in his pelvis, in his balls, and it was rapidly worsening. Scott's still flushed beautiful face and soft sighing breaths weren't helping. Scott, ever empathetic noticed Soul's discomfort and moved bonelessly to lie on his stomach between Soul's knees, Scott pushed them slowly apart and pulled Soul's feet out in front of him. "Now its your turn." Scott pulled off Soul's pants and began kissing down his chest, pausing at a nipple to nibble briefly. Before Soul could appreciate the situation Scott was already moving, leaving kisses nibbles and licks down Soul's chest and across his stomach. Scott paused at Soul's navel, sliding his tongue in a low circle before dipping inside and traveling on. Soul had his hands firmly in Scott's hair trying to pull him where Soul needed him most, and when Scott finally took Soul into his mouth Soul felt as if Scott was pulling on his heartstrings, he could feel it stutter and each beat rocked through his body, he could have watched it if he weren't too busy watching Scott slowly, achingly take him deeper his tongue finding and exploiting each consecutively more sensitive spot. When Soul thought he could take no more Scott pulled off with a pop and smiled. Soul was torn in begging him to continue and relief that maybe Scott's tormenting touches could last a few moments longer. Scott maintained eye contact as he slowly pushed Soul's legs toward his chest, Soul was almost confused until Scott's head dipped and he licked a slow wet stripe from the base of Soul's tailbone, across his hole to the tip of his cock. Soul's eyes opened wider, he couldn't have described the sensation or the quickly following feeling of cool breeze blowing against his exposed damp skin. Then Soul blinked slowly, trying to process the sensations, and once he thought he might be able to breathe again Scott did it again, then again, then settled in, kissing Soul's hole like it was his mouth, nipping, sucking, and delving deep as if he could taste Soul's very essence. Soul had no idea what sounds he was making, or how loudly he was making them and he didn't care. When Scott slipped a finger into him and took Soul's cock in his hand, just gripping loosely Soul thought his heart was breaking. He thought his eyes were open but his vision splintered as he came apart. Time seemed to slow as Soul watched the lights and colors fade into a bright white sparkling mass. Every muscle in his body locked, he threw his head back against the floor and the pain only added to the overwhelming sensations. It felt like a lifetime had passed when Soul finally came back to himself, cuddled securely in Scott's arms. He felt dreamy, sated, and content. "You okay?" Scott's voice was soft, and Soul liked feeling it rumble through Scott's chest against his cheek. Soul nodded. They lay there for a while longer, watching the light from the windows slowly retreat. When the sun had retreated far enough that the room was beginning to chill there was a knock on the frame of the open door. It was the twins. "Dinner is in just a few moments" "We brought some clothes." "No time to bathe" "Sylvia is pleased." Soul could feel his cheeks burning but he met the eyes of David, then Melissa. He wouldn't back down and with everyone else already dressing for dinner he might just have a chance to speak to them alone, to finally escape this house. Charcoal Ch. 08 Thank you so much for your comments and support! I love hearing from you, it still amazes me that people read what I write :) ***** Soul was late to the table. He had assured Scott that he was only going to wash his face but he has managed to speak with the twins, if only for a moment. They had a plan; he had a plan, even if it was only to make a plan. Soul slipped into his seat as quietly and respectfully as he could, it was an unacceptable thing to be late, but apparently his and Scott's earlier activities had tempered Sylvia's ire. She smiled tightly at him and continued her conversations, which included berating everyone for small indiscretions. Her lack of attention was a gift and was almost worth Soul's earlier embarrassment. He had known that she would know what they were doing, known that she might even walk in. Soul knew it, and still he had persevered. He hadn't imagined that he would be able to forget the oppressive house, the watching eyes and listening ears, but he had, yet again he had underestimated the power of Scott's touch. Soul sighed as he remembered. It had felt so good, even as it had almost hurt. He could feel a blush coming to his face as he remembered in more detail, the feel of Scott growing in his mouth, the feel of Scott's hands, almost tickling- "Even thought the library is not the most appropriate place for such activities." Soul looked up, startled from his revelry, right into Sylvia's face. She had apparently been thinking of similar things as Soul, he blushed and looked to his right, where he found others staring at him. Scott took his hand under the table, for support Soul was sure, but he hated being talked about, he didn't want them to imagine what he had been remembering. His peace about having and fulfilling a plan began to fade. He pulled his hand away and wrapped it with his other in his lap. He knew that Scott would have a hurt expression on his face but couldn't face it. The conversation continued, Sylvia mentioning the bond and how important it was to 'continue their work'. She said she understood his hesitance but that she really needed them to proceed. She spoke of how lovely it was that his drawings were becoming clearer, but also that he needed to focus on the abstract. Soul focused on that, finding it much more comfortable to be frustrated than embarrassed. "I can't focus on something if I don't know what it is." He spoke softly but clearly. He could feel Sylvia's eyes on him even though he didn't look up. "With Scott I focus on him, I can see him, it's a very specific anchor. But I don't know what you want me to look for there are so many things in the world I can't just know what you want." Everyone was silent for a moment, talking back to Sylvia just wasn't something that was done, and certainly not at her table with others watching. There was a brief silence, as everyone held their breath. Sylvia sighed and when Soul looked up he saw the end of her nod. "You are right, it isn't fair to keep you in the dark." Soul waited for her to continue, for her to finally explain something but she didn't, she turned back to her place and delicately prepared a bite with steak and just a bit of potato. She smiled up at him when she was satisfied by the food on her fork. "Just finish the bond, and everyone will be so pleased." She put the fork in her mouth and pulled it would very slowly, maintaining eye contact and Soul was reminded of a picture of a wolf he had once seen, its eyes almost glowing as it stripped the flesh from a deer carcass, he shivered and wrapped his hands more tightly around each other. If he had had an appetite before it was completely gone now. * Soul had slipped from Scott's arms easily. His earlier actions were paying off. Scott was relaxing around him. Soul felt almost bad for manipulating him he did think that Scott was a good person, someone he could really love in different circumstances. But for now he had to get out of here, to find his mother, to find some answers. Soul walked quietly down the hall and out into the back garden. He half expected there to be an alarm, for dozens of the newcomers to come pouring out of the house to drag him to some dark dungeon. But there was nothing but the soft noises of suburban night, and the sweet smells of a well-tended garden. Soul realized as he felt the dew on the soft grass that he hadn't been outside in days. He missed it then, deeply. He wandered for a bit, smelling the flowers and picking small leaves off the plants in a small plot of kitchen herbs. He was so engrossed that he forgot for a moment his reason for being here- meeting the twins. They approached quietly, and even thought their greeting was soft Soul was still more startled than he would like to admit. "Soul." "You were early." "And you wanted to speak with us?" Soul nodded and looked around, still surprised that no one had come to shoo him back into the house. "The garden is warded" "There will be no alarm" "Unless you try to leave." Soul nodded but still didn't speak. "There are still listening ears" "There are everywhere" "But fewer that in the house" "And less attentive" "Especially at night." Soul nodded again and took a breath. "I need to get out of here." The twins nodded and shared a long look. "It is sooner than we wanted." "But it is time to act" "We have an idea" "But you can't tell anyone" The plan was basic, but believable and Soul so needed something to believe in. And if something did happen he did have his plan b, though now it was looking less attractive, something made Soul want to see this through, he didn't want another generation fighting Sylvia, and he knew somehow she would still be there, fighting even after he was long gone. * Scott smiled, grinned really, when he opened his eyes, Soul was still sleeping in his arms. Scott knew he had gotten up in the night but didn't want to pry and now his patience was paying off. He pushed himself up on his elbow gently, trying to avoid jostling Soul too much, and he was successful. Soul grumbled something then snuggled closer into Scott's chest. Scott felt himself filling with warmth. He had all that he wanted, right here right now. Scott's shoulder began to ache as the minutes ticked by and the light from the window inched closer to Soul's face, but he ignored it. He would endure much more for this moment to last. It was bittersweet when the sunbeam reached Soul's eyes and after squinting for a moment they began to open. Soul wrinkled his nose as he opened his eyes and Scott thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Soul looked into Scott's face warily for a moment, but then his eyes closed again. Soul pulled away from Scott but flipped onto his stomach and pulled his knee under his elbow. The movement pulled the sheet tight across Soul's ass and Scott debated whether this view was better or worse than the other. After a few moments Soul's breathing evened out into an almost snore and Scott flopped back onto his pillow massaging his aching shoulder. If Soul wanted to sleep more Scott wasn't going to take it from him. The moment was too peaceful, domestic almost and Scott wasn't going to let anything ruin it. Not even his own libido. * At breakfast Soul looked happily rumpled. He still had lines from sleep on his face and he ate slowly, putting jam on only the bit of toast he was putting in his mouth next. He seemed absentminded but Scott didn't mind, it was a continuation of earlier. He imagined mornings like this in the future, the bond complete, sharing sleepy feelings and thoughts, away from this house and his mother. Just sharing the bright morning together in piece. Scott sighed and when he did Soul looked up, a small spoon filled with raspberry jam still in his hand. His eyes seemed clearer now, more awake. He smiled as Scott and it brought more warmth to Scott than the sun streaming in the windows. "I need to get some things from school, I miss my pencils, and easel. Drawing on the table is fine I just-" He trailed off and Scott didn't mind. Soul was moving some of his things in. That was al that mattered. Even thought this was not the house he had imagined sharing with Soul he didn't mind. It wasn't perfect but for this moment, it was pretty damn close. "Okay, do you want me to come?" Scott knew what the answer would be but he still had to ask. He knew that he had to continue to give Soul space even if he didn't want to, but after yesterday he didn't mind as much. His efforts were working. He just had to be patient a little longer and his lifelong torment would be over. He smiled and took a sip of his coffee. Maybe they would get a dog when it was all over. A big fluffy one that would knock Soul over when he walked in the house. One that would sleep on the bed and they would take for long walks. Scott sighed, they would do so many wonderful things and it would be perfect. He just had to be patient a little bit longer, he just had to let Soul come to him, and it was already happening. * Scott looked so hopeful when he asked if he could come, and he looked so happy when he was sipping his coffee Soul felt badly about his deception. Maybe Scott could come. It would make it look better to Sylvia too and if he could get out without her suspicion it would make everything so much easier. And it would make sense that soul would want to leave for a bit, to get to know his new-boyfriend? - In peace outside of his mothers home. It was a change of plan and the twins might not like it but- "Sure, you can come if you want." Scott looked so deeply happy when he looked up Soul was glad that he had said yes. He thought that Scott was probably expecting a no, but he liked being nice to Scott, he liked putting that smile on his face. Soul liked putting any smile on Scott's face and he was struck again with a strong nostalgia of what could have been. * "We have to go and get some of Soul's stuff." Sylvia had entered the room and Scott was eager to tell her the news. She would understand the significance he was sure and her smile meant the world to Scott. Soul smiled to himself, it was an excellent decision to bring Scott. His mother was placated, and Scott was smiling. Two good things and with just a word from him. They were ready to go just an hour later and Soul was almost bouncing on his toes as they waited for the twin to come and 'escort' them. It was the perfect plan and nothing could possibly go wrong. The twins arrived ten minutes after they had been called and looked fresh out of a shower. Soul wondered for a moment if they had showered together and decided he didn't care. It was time to get out of the damned house and get some answers. He thought their first stop should really be at the school. He did miss his charcoal and graphite sets and an easel would be nice if he did end up back at the house for an interim period. Plus they could ask Professor White if he had any more information. Soul wondered if he had guessed what had happened to him. The long weekend was long over and they had missed a few classes. Soul wondered if his mother had been notified. But dismissed the notion. It was college, nothing would be said until there was an emergency, and no one knew how much of an emergency this was except him and Scott, and maybe Professor White. "Where should we go first?" "Just tell us where" They had just exited the gate and already the feeling of being trapped was fading, Soul bounced in his seat feeling more energetic than he could ever remember feeling. "To the school first, I really do want to get some of my supplies, then we can see if Professor White is in." The twins looked back at Soul with identical expressions on their faces, Soul couldn't quite tell what the expression was, but it didn't look the most complimentary. "He was there?" "He is teaching?" "What an idiot" "I can't believe he is still alive" "He really doesn't know when to butt out" "He must be waiting for your mother." Soul was confused. Yes Professor White did seem to have had a weird thing for his mother, but he must have gotten over it. He could easily find her, he just had to look in Soul's file for his home address, but if he was as idiotic as the twins seemed to think he might have just not thought of it. Soul didn't let it bother him. Their plan had worked, they were outside the gates and on their way, he couldn't imagine anything that would ruin his mood. * The school was just as they had left it; soul went quickly to his room, relieved when he found it empty. He grabbed his stuff and considered leaving a note, but decided it wasn't worth it. What would he write? He looked around slowly thinking how odd it was that this small room could feel so familiar and homelike after living in it for just a few weeks. He grabbed a small bag of more formal clothes, if they went back to the house he wanted to be able to wear something of his own. Being dressed by Sylvia was a little to invasive, and it was a small enough thing that he might be able to get away with it. And with her, even a small victory would help him keep his sanity while waiting for the big ones, and now free from her oppressive reach he could see them coming, there was light on the horizon and it was bright. They walked to professor White's office and Soul noticed the twins whispering to each other. It was odd after their constant sameness. It sounded almost like they were bickering about something, but their voice were quiet enough so Soul ignored it and grabbed Scott's hand. He didn't know how long he was going to still be with him and wanted him to have a few fond memories. Soul wanted Scott to think of him in a kind light. He knew he supposed that Scott would never hate him, that he couldn't hate him, but he wanted the feeling to be real. With the end in sight soul allowed himself to be a bit sentimental. There was no reason not to be. Professor White's office is empty and it appears that he has not been in for a while. His inbox is filled with letters and papers, even some portfolios, the door is locked. Soul shrugs, he hadn't thought the Professor would be too helpful and even if he has disappeared there are much more pressing things for him to worry about, like getting home and finding his mother. It may have seemed out of character but in this new world no ones character seemed to stay at Soul's first impression, maybe the older man was really just a flakey old artist that had stick his nose where it didn't belong like the twins seemed to think. And even if he had gotten himself into trouble it wasn't Soul's problem. With a shrug Soul tugged on Scott's hand. * Back in the car the twins bickered more, they are becoming, as the moments pass, more and more like Soul remembers them from the past, similar, but just different enough that they can't agree on anything. Maybe things aren't so different than they were, Sylvia's influence must just have a bad impact on them. Soul smiled to himself and reaches again to take Scotts hand. Scott answers with an unabashed grin that makes Soul's heart flutter. It was so easy to make him happy, Soul almost felt bad for all the opportunities he had missed to see that smile. Now that he has known Scott for just a bit longer he sees how careful he must be being to not send Soul running for the hills, and even though Soul would be running for the hills if he thought it would do any good, he wondered if it would be so bad to bring Scott with him. "You cannot do that," Michelle says clearly startling everyone. "I will not allow you to and I will throw your phone out of this window so help me." David mutters something under his breath and the car swerves as Michelle takes a swipe for the phone. "What did you just say?" Michelle asks once she has righted the car. Her voice is cold and though her eyes are facing front Soul can tell that they would pin David to the seat if she turned his way. "I said I already did it." David sounds chagrined and Michelle sighs. "I might have to kill you for that. I really might." David shrugs and looks out the window. Soul would be worried but they are so close to his house, to his mother, who almost never left and is bound to be home, and answers, they are so, so close to finally finding some answers. * Soul was out o the car almost before it stopped moving, he was through the gate and knocking on the door before any of the others had even made it out the doors. "Mom! Mom! Open up, I have to talk to you!" Soul was about to look for the spare key when the door opened. It smelled like cookies inside and Soul felt all the stress melt from his body, if not an ounce of excitement. "Oh mom I have so much to tell you and you wouldn't believe any of it if you weren't a part of it. You have so much to tell me I can't believe-" Soul had to catch his breath, he had been talking much more than he ever had in the past weeks but still he was breathless. His mother hugged him, as gently as she always had and opened the door more widely for the others to follow her inside. She set a plate of cookies at the kitchen table and brushed some flower on her apron." "Hi sweet Soul, why have you come to visit?" Soul paused and looked into her face, he hadn't done it for years and she almost didn't seem real, she seemed too young, exactly as he remembered her, as he had always remembered her. And she was so calm. "I have lots of things to ask you-" He paused, he had caught Michelle's eyes and she looked sympathetic, not something he wanted to see, he wanted eagerness, he wanted- something other than pity, he was so sick of pity. "Yes darling you know you can ask me anything." "You know Scott-" and for a moment her eyes flashed, but the placid smile was back in a moment. "Oh yes Scott, your friend from school." Soul paused again, had he called and told her about Scott, or was she checking up on him? Maybe it had something to do with Talent- and the flash, he didn't expect her to like Scott after all she had done, but- "How have you hidden for so many years, from her?" She smiled again and turned to turn on the coffee maker. "My sweet darling I am not hiding at all." Soul looked at her again. Really looked and tried to remember any time she had lost her temper, any time she had shown strong emotion, and he couldn't remember one time. This was not the fiery woman that he had heard of. But maybe she had lost something protecting him. Maybe. "Honey, Soul, that's not your mother, not really." It was Michelle; she placed a hand on Soul's lower back and began to rub in small circles. "That's just her reflection. A part of her she left to take care of you, to keep up appearances." Soul looked between them, the twins, Scott, his- not his mother. "You aren't really my mom." He spoke quietly, slowly, maybe that way it would turn out to be a joke. If he yelled- cried- it might make everything all too real. She kept working on the coffee humming now, it seemed this question didn't have an answer. "A part of her yes, like a reflection. But not really your mother no. Not all of her." Scott spoke softly, like he had known all along, and he probably had. "We knew where you lived, and Sylvia too. She would have made us tell her, if we knew where the rest of her was, you must know that." It was David. The twins, since being away from the house had begun to separate into two people again. "She kept waiting for your mother to really come, to take you back. She thought if we lived close by we would notify her. She thinks we tell her everything, and even though we don't, we would have had to tell her that. She knew where we lived, visited us even." Michelle added. Soul nodded but it wasn't okay, he wasn't okay. He didn't know if he would ever be okay. He tried to remember if there was ever a time when he could have figured out his mother wasn't a real person. That she was a shadow, and impression of what his mother really was. He couldn't remember. He remembered moments, feelings, love, and support. But they hadn't really talked. She had read to him but never paused to explain the pictures or ask him what he thought. He had imagined that all mothers were like that. Presences but not really people. Charcoal Ch. 08 Soul felt lost, more lost than he had ever felt. He had been so excited for this moment, this little bit of hope. He could have asked her everything, could have found out why she hadn't stayed with him. But she wasn't a real person, and his real mother had left him. Soul felt like there was cotton filling his mind. There was the buzz of static filling his ears and pins and needles climbed from his toes up his legs. There was no hope. There was nothing left to try for, nothing left to hope for. Sylvia was going to win. Charcoal Ch. 09 Soul got into the car and buckled his seatbelt. Anywhere was better than here. Even the horrible house with its overwhelming miasma of disappointment, even the scarlet room and all the expectations that went with it. Sylvia had won so why not just give her everything that she wanted? Why should he drag out the pain when it was going to happen either way? Soul knew now that nothing in his life had ever been what he thought it was. He had held onto his childhood somewhere inside himself assuring himself that all the craziness had started when he met Scott. Learning about the twins had ruined that vision to some extent, but finding out that not even his mother was real was the final straw. Nothing he had ever done, no one he had ever been close to just liked him for who he was. No one had ever stayed and he had always been alone. The ride home was silent. Soul imagined this is what going to be sentenced for murder would feel like- an inescapable slow trek to nowhere. He knew Sylvia would be waiting. He knew they would all be punished. He just didn't know how. And somehow that was even worse. * The house was dark when they arrived and the sun was just setting. It was about dinnertime but food was the last thing on any of their minds. The huge doors were open when they pulled up and Sylvia was sitting on the staircase. She was smiling the same smile as when Soul had first arrived. It was as terrifying as it was fake. Soul didn't care, he walked past her without a word, and she let him go. He almost imagined he felt a brush to his spirit and wished her well. There was no need for her to make him feel awful; to take away his hope- it was already gone. Scott arrived to the scarlet room shortly after Soul; he seemed fine if subdued. There was a hint of a red mark on his cheek. He sat beside Soul and wrapped his arms around him. Soul didn't move, he didn't move as Scott undressed him. He didn't move when Scott left to shower and get ready for bed. And even when Scott pulled him up and tucked him under the covers he didn't resist. Scott slept, his breath falling on Soul's face is soft minty puffs, and Soul lay awake the whole night wondering if there was any way to gather any dignity, any agency. And when the birds began warning that dawn was near he had one small idea. Not hope, but an idea. If it was going to end he could be the one to end it. He would not be manipulated any more. If his destiny were going to be this unyielding he would walk into it on his own power. * Scott woke slowly to the feeling of being touched, softly, slowly and all over his body. It was one of his dreams, his favorite, most embarrassing dreams. He didn't want to open his eyes because then it would end. It always ended, but he also couldn't keep his eyes closed, on the off chance- Scott opened his eyes and they met the deepest pools he had seen. Soul was looking up at him kneeling between his thighs. It was his dream come true- almost. Soul didn't look like he should. He was beautiful but his eyes were almost empty- deep still, but like a dead sea, there was no life in them, and there were deep bruises under them. His touch was gentle, almost loving but Scott sighed. Opening his eyes had ruined it again. As much as he wanted this he couldn't. He couldn't have Soul hate him and if he went through with this he knew something out be irreparably changed, and not in a good way. Any progress they had made would be gone and Scott would be alone again. He held Soul's face in his hands and gently tugged him upward. He wrapped Soul in his arms and pressed Soul's face into his shoulder. At first Soul was still rigid, but he melted soon enough and from the slightly shuddering breaths and wetness on his shoulder Scott knew that Soul was crying. Scott tried to keep his own tears from falling but he couldn't. Once again he was unable to comfort his man. Once again he was not able to solve the problems Soul was dealing with, once again he was a failure. Scott held Soul for hours while he cried and then when he slept. Neither of them had much of an appetite. Scott had begun to hope that everything would be okay but he couldn't see it being okay now. He rubbed Soul's back and tried to think of anything that would make Soul feel better, to make him feel the same way Scott felt about him. * Soul dreamt of the end of everything. He dreamt of his own death, and it was comforting, beautiful. No one could hurt him there; there was only one problem. In all the scenarios he imagined there was always Scott, devastated. Soul dreamt of the picture he had drawn, of Scott crying over his dead body, and even through the picture had meant nothing to him just a few days ago, it now haunted him and ruined all his fantasies. Soul woke slowly but when he woke he had another idea. If he could show Scott how he felt Scott would understand. If Scott could feel the desolation he felt, the loss of everything he had ever thought he had known, he would know why Soul had to end it. He would know why he needed to have one last act, his only truly autonomous act. Soul knew that Scott would never finish the bond if he thought Soul didn't want it. But Soul had a plan for that as well. He would just have to fake it- and with all his recent practice Soul was sure he could do it. He could ignore the house, Sylvia, all of it, and just focus on Scott, and once it was over, he wouldn't have to pretend or hide anymore he would have what he had always really wanted- complete understanding and then quiet, peace. When Soul finally opened his eyes the first thing he saw was Scott. And Scott looked almost as bad as Soul felt, his skin looked dull and his eyes were rimmed with red, he had to have spent a lot of the time Soul spent sleeping, crying. Soul tried to smile at him, but even with his plan firmly in place it didn't quite come out. Giving up and figuring it was unrealistic for him to feel better after one good cry Soul wrapped his arms around Scott and tried to offer the comfort Scott always wanted to offer him. Scott didn't respond for a moment but then hugged back, and for a moment it was like they were the only two people in the world. Soul and Scott showered separately but spent the next hours attached at the hip. They didn't go anywhere without each other, even if they hardly spoke. Sylvia stayed out of the way, Soul guessed it was because she figured nothing she could think up would compare to the punishment he had brought upon himself, and if she couldn't detect any happy emotions what was there for her to take away? The next days passed similarly, almost in silence, and with few interactions with anyone other than Scott. It was almost as if the house had been abandoned. All the new guests seemed to have vanished and the siblings were only seen in passing and only around meal times. They looked subdued, or determined but Soul paid them little attention. He had only one goal at the moment and it only required his own powers of deception. He had to convince Scott that he was feeling better, and that he wanted to finish the bond. He didn't mention it at all the first day, but began answering Scott's queries to how he was feeling with variations of loneliness. And as time went on Soul realized it wasn't a lie at all, he was lonely, he did want to feel a connection with someone he did want at least one person to really understand him, to stay with him. He found that the more he spoke to Scott he began to believe his own words. Maybe everything really would be better with the bond in place; maybe all of Sylvia's plotting would mean less to him. And logically it made sense, Scott had survived her and Soul was only a promise of a future. Soul did most of his talking when they were alone and in bed, right before sleeping with all the lights off and with the lurid color of the room hidden Soul found it was embarrassingly easy to spill his feeling and insecurities. Scott was a wonderful listener and crying himself to sleep ensured that he slept without dreams. On the fourth morning after discovering his mother was only a shadow Soul woke feeling almost hopeful. He knew that when he opened his eyes he could look into Scott's and the feeling warmed a small piece of his heart. He still felt disconnected and alone, he still felt like nothing would ever be okay, but his plan was working in ways he hadn't imagined. And soon it would be complete. Soul opened his eyes slowly and found Scott already awake, looking down on him with the strangest expression in his eyes. "You were smiling in your sleep." Soul blinked sleepily. "What?" "You were smiling in your sleep. You haven't smiled in days and you looked like you were dreaming of happy things." Soul smiled again and it didn't feel forced. "I was just thinking of you." And it was the truth. * Soul sat up and gave Scott a kiss, when Scott sat up too; Soul wiggled himself into Scott's lap facing him and looked into his eyes. He had never thought that he had really been able to see anyone's soul but Scott's seemed to be shining out of his as surely as the early morning sun shone through the windows. It was bright and sweet and full of love, and Soul wished he could reach inside and touch it. Instead he brushed a finger against Scott's eyelashes, and when Scott closed his eyes in response it was as if a bit of the light in the room had been turned off. Soul brushed the lashes as they sat on Scott's cheeks then kissed them. His mind was made up. Tonight was the night, he just had to convince Scott that he really wanted it, and in that moment Soul didn't think it would be a difficult task because it was the truth, he did want the bond, he wanted to touch Scott's soul. * Scott couldn't understand what was happening. Just days ago Soul looked like not only had his heart broken, but that his spirit and soul were gone. And today just four days later he was smiling in his sleep. Scott had been preparing himself for years more of torture, of knowing Soul was hurting and not knowing how to help him. But it was like the devastation had opened something in him. He talked to Scott, really talked to him, about all kinds of things, about what his dreams had been, and about how worried he had been that he would never find anyone to be with, about how alone he had always felt even with the twins. Soul had cried but he was finally sharing himself, and now he was smiling. Scott couldn't stop smiling himself even though he was still wary of the change. He listened to Soul humming softly to himself in the shower and Scott wondered if he would ever understand Soul even with the bond. "I'm finally hungry, starving really, can we make breakfast? I feel like creating something. Something yummy." Soul had just stepped out of the shower and still wrapped in towels flopped onto the bed next to Scott. "I think probably. There is probably breakfast made already though." Scott smiled at the bundle of towels wrapped around Soul and was rewarded with a bright smile in return. "But I want to make something." Scott shrugged but in his mind he was going to make sure that Soul was able to create to his hearts desire, even beyond breakfast. Scott hadn't spent any time in his studio since returning home and he missed it. He had a sudden urge to share it with Soul, to make something of the day, literally. Something told him that today was going to be a special day. "Okay then we will make something. Put on something you don't mind getting dirty." For a minute Scott thought Soul would put on one of the outfits Sylvia had gotten for him, just for the sake of ruining it, but he turned from the wardrobe after a minute of considering it and began to dig through the bag he had first brought with him. Scott wanted to stay and watch the towels come off one by one but he dragged himself to the shower. It wouldn't do to ruin the day before it even began. Scott was surprised when he saw what Soul was wearing. When he had seen Soul dress before it was always in dark neutral colors, but this- Soul had a soft well worn t-shirt with a sunflower in faded ink on the front and soft green corduroy cut offs. He looked like he had just been in an art studio, and he looked perfect. The colors suited him, as did the careless feel of the outfit. Sylvia would hate it and that just made Scott love it all the more. * Soul had a blast making the kitchen a complete mess. It was spotless when they entered and didn't seem at all homey like a kitchen should feel. Soul had a moment of deep sadness when he realized the kitchen he compared it to, his mother's kitchen, wasn't really homey either, but this was sterile. Even a fake mother infused a kitchen with more life than Sylvia, but in a way it's clinical cleanliness and strictly ordered implements made it even more fun to play in. Soul made pancakes and they were a horrible mess. They didn't even taste very good but the act of making made the day feel even better. They ate the pancakes right out of the pan and the syrup crystallizing in the pan made it impossible to cook the later cakes correctly, but it didn't matter. The only things that mattered were the smile on Scott's face and how thoroughly debauched the kitchen looked when they were done. Soul felt a hint of guilt about not cleaning up, he knew it wouldn't be Sylvia that did it, but it quickly faded as Scott lead him through a door he hadn't been through before and down a very narrow flight of stairs to his studio. Soul had imagined anything underground in this house to be damp and full of monsters but he couldn't have been more wrong. The room was filled with light. Two of the walls were a rich cream and the other two were covered in beautiful murals they seemed oddly familiar to Soul but he was quickly distracted by the rest of the room. There were hundreds of small statues, some ceramic, both glazed and not, there were also racks for drying paintings, some full, some still waiting for paintings to fill them. There were tall shapes that were covered with drop cloths, and in one corner there was a large kiln. Soul was stunned by the number of pieces as well as their quality, and by the sheer size of the studio. It was magnificent and Soul felt like he was seeing another part of Scott's soul, of his life. It was obvious that this was the place where Scott felt the most comfortable in his house, the space was filled with bits of him from the murals to the hint of his scent mixed with the smells of oil paint, clay, heat, and stone. It was beautiful. Soul spent hours looking through the racks of paintings careful not to smudge the paint even though it had been drying for ages. He picked up the tiny figures amazed at their detail, he gazed at the murals trying to figure out why they were so familiar, but even though his fingers ached to uncover them he left the covered pieces covered. As an artist himself he understood the need to keep some things covered. Plus there was so many other things to look at he didn't need to see more. Scott didn't say a word and just let Soul look, but even with the silence Soul felt closer to Scott than he ever had. Seeing the studio reinstated the feeling Soul had had before of what could have been if things were different. He felt a twinge of sadness that even just a few days ago he could have thought of it- however subconsciously- as what could be. After Scott led Soul out of his studio they went outside to the garden where Soul had met the twins to discuss their escape. In the daytime the garden was even more beautiful, the flowers were open and their buds were magnificent, the colors were more vibrant that Soul could remember seeing. Their perfume filled the air and though it should have been overwhelming it just smelled like paradise. Even at the short distance from the house the oppressive feeling was less overwhelming. The whole day was like a vacation from depression. Soul knew it was waiting for him later but each moment felt like a gift. Soul still felt a bit guilty that they were having such a lovely time and he was going to stick to his plan, but he also felt resolved. If this was going to be one of his last days it might as well be one of his best days, and it was a good way for Scott to remember him when he was gone. Plus he hoped that Scott would be able to feel the happiness Soul had felt through the bond. Maybe then he would be able to give up on his guilt that he had never been able to make Soul feel better. They went inside when the light was starting to fade, and even though they sat down to dinner with Sylvia, Scott's father, Josie, Nova, and a few others, the meal wasn't enough to ruin Soul's mood. And when Sylvia mentioned that she would be out that evening his spirits soared. Not only would he get all that he wanted he wouldn't have to worry about Sylvia listening in and peeking through keyholes. Even her cutting comments about his outfit, which was now covered in soil and flower petals, did nothing to ruin his mood. The only thing that came close to upsetting Soul's levity was the desolate look on Josie's face but he told himself that he couldn't help her, that he couldn't take on any other problems. He could only focus on solving his own and hope that somehow it would make some things easier for the others. Sylvia made it seem like he was the key to her plans, and if he was no longer around maybe the others would be able to come up with a better plan. She would at least be distracted. Dessert was cleared and Soul didn't spare a thought for anything other than getting Scott upstairs and naked. After enduring Sylvia's seemingly endless goodbye and list of instructions for taking care of the house Soul nearly dragged Scott upstairs. Scott seemed surprised, but willing and Soul was willing to use anything to his advantage. His excitement almost overcame his nervousness but when the doors of their suite were finally closed he couldn't help but pause. To finish the bond they had to have sex, and Soul really didn't know what he was doing. Soul knew that he would have to initiate, he knew that Scott was terrified of pushing him too fast, but he hoped that Scott would take over. Soul was second guessing himself and considering how he could somehow manipulate Scott into taking the lead. Scott seemed to notice something had changed and was beginning to lose his glowing reflection of Soul's happiness. Soul reached into his limited knowledge of romance and blurted the first thing that came to mind. "Do you want to take a bath with me?" He cheeks flamed once the words were out of his mouth but the idea didn't sound half bad, it was relaxing and he was a bit dirty, and it was an excuse to get Scott naked that Scott wouldn't consider threatening manipulative- he hoped. As the moment extended in silence Soul considered for the first time day that his plan might not work, that Scott might say no. Soul felt the bubbly warmth that had filled his chest all day begin to fade, he ran a hand through his hair and waited for the rejection. "That sounds really nice, I haven't taken a bath in ages- do you want candles?" Soul almost cried his relief was so complete, even though the whole interaction took only around a minute it felt like his whole existence rested on it. "I would love candles." Scott's smile brightened and the glow was back in Soul's chest. Everything was going to be all right. * Scott was surprised by Soul's request and almost suspicious for a moment, but his happiness had remained steady all day. Maybe his opening up had just been coming all along and finding out about his mother was just the key. Scott wanted to believe it was real and with the option of just leaving gone he couldn't imagine a reason why Soul would be faking. Scott barely dared hope but something told him that not only could tonight be as special as the rest of the day, it could be the best night of his life, the night that would free him from the pain that had been his constant companion for his whole life. Finally Soul would see- would feel what he had felt for so long. Scott tried not to let the hope overwhelm him but it was almost impossible. He could feel a tremor beginning in his hands as he searched for candles and matches. He started the bath in the claw foot tub and spent an inordinate amount of time trying to determine what the perfect temperature would be. He decided on just this side of lukewarm and added honeysuckle bubbles. The smell reminded him of Soul and he figured with a neutral temperature it would be easy to adjust. He hung towels on the warmer and finished lighting the candles but was unable to leave the bathroom for a few long moments. What if none of it was what he had imagined? What if they still didn't finish the bond? What if? The questions would have continued if there hadn't been a soft knock on the bathroom door. Charcoal Ch. 09 "Can I come in yet?" Soul's voice was soft, and further muffled by the door. "You can come in- come now!" The words were more forceful than Scott intended but when the door opened and Soul stood there with not a stitch on he forgot all of the things he was worried about. Even if they only took a bath and went to sleep it would be worth it for the image of Soul's pale skin and luminous eyes lit by the candles. Scott didn't want to stare but he couldn't help it. He wished he had his paints so he could immortalize the moment, but something told him that his memory would have to do. There was no way that he could capture such perfection and if he really thought about it he wouldn't want to ruin his memory by trying to produce what was bound to be an inferior rendering. Scott willed his mind to quiet so he could really focus on the image, and as he did it was just made better by the blush slowly crawling up Soul's body. Scott stared for a minute more, then realizing that Soul couldn't- yet- read his mind and he rushed to reassure him. Scott stripped himself of his own clothes and invited Soul into the water. And when they were safely in the water, Soul cradled between Scott's thighs Scott was happy with the temperature he had chosen, if wasn't cold enough for Soul to shiver, but it was just cool enough that Soul pressed himself against Scott's chest. It was heaven and Scott wanted it to never end. * The water felt wonderful, Soul would thought it would be warmer, but the temperature gave him an excuse to settle back into Scott's arms. Scott was always warm and with the water just slightly cool he felt amazing, especially because his skin was slick with bubbles and water and the candles flickered against the bubbles and the walls magically. Soul couldn't imagine a better last night. He sighed happily and almost dozed off, forgetting his plan. It wasn't until the last of the bubbles had faded into the water and Scott began to wash the soap from his hair that Soul remembered that he was the one that was supposed to be doing the seducing. But Scott was just so good at it. Soul relaxed and enjoyed the feeling, there was no need to rush- they had all night. When they were both wrapped in towels and Soul was sitting on the bed watching Scott rummage around in his dresser for something to put on Soul realized it was time to make his move. "Scott, come here please." Soul had wanted to say something seductive but his worry about timing and the distraction of Scott's naked back had robbed him of intelligent thought. "Why?" Scott turned and Soul was again robbed of words, Scott had brought the candles into the bedroom, unwilling to blow them out and the light played off his body in the most distracting way. "Because... I- I want to touch you?" Soul couldn't help but sound unsure, he knew what he wanted but he was unsure of Scott's reaction. There was, however, no need for worry. Scott grinned and pounced onto the bed crawling slowly up to meet Soul against the headboard. His bounce didn't quite match the mood Soul had imagined, but it was so indisputably Scott that it was perfect. "You can touch me whenever. But I want to touch you." Scott reached under Soul's knees to pull him away from the headboard. Scott began to kiss his way from Soul's ankle and up his leg. Soul was stunned for a moment. "Oh, that's nice, but, but I want to touch you." Scott paused and for a moment Soul was worried he wasn't going to stop and as much as Soul loved being in Scott's mouth he had a different idea for tonight and he didn't want to be distracted any more. Luckily enough for Soul, Scott placed a kiss on the inside of each of Soul's knees then flopped down next to him against the pillows, placing his arms behind his head, and closing his eyes. Scott hummed softly and Soul took a moment to just look at him. From the soft waves of his hair to the crescent of his eyelashes against his cheeks, then lower across his collarbone and his sculpted chest, to his peaked nipples and slowly rising and falling stomach, Soul caught his breath as his gaze stopped at Scott's cock, slowly filling beneath his navel. It was beautiful and intimidating. Soul knew it would fit but he felt his insides tingle with a new wave of nervousness. He gazed at Scott's long legs, falling gently open and finally finished at his feet. Soul didn't particularly care about feet, but Scott's were like a stature's feet, and fresh from the bath they almost looked sculpted, they were flawless. Gathering himself Soul took one finger to trace the path his eyes had taken. Scott shivered as Soul's hand traveled whisper soft across his skin, and when Soul got paused at Scott's navel Scott's eyes opened. Soul looked up immediately sensing the small change. Scott pushed himself up on his elbows looking down as Soul who was now kneeling between his legs. Soul smiled taking confidence in Scott's slightly dazed expression and enormous pupils, and still smiling took Scott into his mouth. Soul found himself missing the smell of Scott, he smelled like honeysuckle and tasted like clean skin and soap, but the musky Scott smell was gone. Soul tickled Scott with his tongue thinking of all the things that he liked the best and learning from Scott's subtle movements and soft sounds. Soul wanted to continue, wanted to test his skill but he wanted more. As much as he took pleasure in Scott's pleasure, his body was throbbing, and his skin ached with his desire to be touched. "Do you have...?" Soul trailed off, hoping his inexperience wouldn't ruin the moment, but Scott was too far gone to care. He flung an arm to the side indicating the bedside tale on what had become his side of the bed. When Soul let go of him to look Scott moaned like his heart was breaking and sat up fully. Once Soul had found the small bottle and turned back Scott had recovered somewhat. He still looked thoroughly debauched and on the edge of his control but his eyes focused on Soul and his expression was guarded. "Soul are you sure?" Soul didn't trust himself enough to answer with words; he hoped his body and his actions would speak enough for him. He felt goose bumps crawl up his arms as he crawled back to Scott and straddled his hips. Soul opened the bottle of lube and poured some on his fingers. It was slipperier than he expected and cold, especially when he reached back to apply it to his hole. It was more difficult that he had expected it to be, and the angle hurt his wrist. What he had intended to be a sexy show of his desire was just awkward, but Scott saved him, again. After very obviously stifling a giggle Scott flipped Soul onto his back and somehow took the bottle from him at the same time. "Let me, I want to." Soul tensed at the initial movement but relaxed with Scott's comforting warmth surrounding him. It seemed like Scott wasn't going to argue with him, and his plan was going to go off without a hitch. Scott circled Soul's hole with just the tip of a finger, and the almost tickling feeling made Soul want to scream. He could feel his muscles clenching and relaxing, wanting- needing something more. Soul grabbed Scott's wrist with the intention of making him do something. Scott took that moment to gently press his finger inside Soul. Soul gasped and dug his nails into Scott's wrist. It was a strange feeling and exactly what he needed. It wasn't a completely foreign feeling but his intentions made it so much more intense, he knew that this was just a taste of what was coming and the thought sent shivers rushing through his body. "Okay?" Soul nodded and Scott leaned down to add his tongue to his finger and Soul couldn't think beyond trying to process the sensations rushing through his body. He vaguely registered the cool lube in contrast to Scott's warm breath and hot tongue, and the burning, stinging, pleasure as Scott added one than two more fingers. Then all the sudden it stopped. Soul dragged in a few ragged breaths; the first full breaths in many long minutes but the reprieve didn't last long. After sitting up and cracking his neck Scott looked intensely into Soul's eyes and crooked his fingers and Soul saw fireworks. He didn't think he could feel anything more intense than the last few moments but the firm circles Scott was rubbing on his prostate were mind blowing. Soul felt unbearably full and every synapse lit up with almost painful intensity. Soul hadn't known it was possible to feel such pleasure without coming, but it was too intense for him to relax enough to orgasm. When he was finally able to gasp in a breath it left him in an almost incoherent stream of pleas that he didn't understand himself. Scott relaxed his fingers and slowly pulled them from Soul's body one by one. Soul felt the loss of each distinctly and longed for the heart stopping intensity if only it would mean having Scott so impossibly close to him again. "Are you ready?" Scott kissed him in between words and Soul nodded, fears forgotten in the face of even deeper intimacy. Scott placed a pillow under Soul's lower back and gently looped Soul's legs over his elbows, placing his hands on either side of Soul. "I love you." Scott said almost silently against Soul's lips and he gently began to push inside Soul's body. Soul pulled in a deep breath waiting for searing pain and felt only an overwhelming pressure and then relief as his body relaxed around Scott. He couldn't help but hold his breath as Scott pressed impossibly deeper, and deeper still inside of him. Soul imagined he could feel Scott replacing huge parts of him and instead of scaring him the feeling was the best Soul could imagine. He felt as close to complete as he ever had. He wrapped his legs more firmly around Scott and held him close knowing that Scott needed to move, but wanting to feel him as deep as possible for as long as he could. Scott cradled Soul's head in his hands and began to press hisses to as much of Soul's skin as he could reach, when Soul realized the feeling of near completeness wasn't all that he wanted he began to move his hips. With nearly all of Scott's weight pressing him down he wasn't able to move much, but it was enough for Scott to lean back a bit, just enough to meet Soul's eyes and begin to withdraw as slowly as he had pressed in. Soul felt like he could breathe again, and moaned deeply, he wanted to say something that would express the perfection of the moment but he couldn't collect his thoughts enough to find the words, he looked deep into Scott's eyes and tried to tell him with his soul that this was perfect. Scott maintained the smooth slow rhythm and Soul began to meet his thrusts digging his hands into Scott's back for leverage. The pace was nearly killing him with its slow deliberation, but Soul couldn't force himself to move any faster. The slow build was driving him toward a terrifying peak and he wasn't sure if he would survive it. The expression on Scott's face suggested that he too could feel the inevitably devastating end coming; he looked like Soul felt, terrified and wholly consumed by the feeling that was building. When the sensations crossed the boundary of excruciating and mind blowing Soul closed his eyes and held on. He hadn't thought his nerves could take any more but a waves of heat overtook his body in the same slow undulating waves as the rhythm his body had been trapped in his vision went white behind his eyes and he could feel every muscle in his body contract and release clearly even as every other thought and sensation was scoured from his consciousness. When the physical feeling began to fade into devastating aftershocks interspersed with moments of exhausted calm Soul became aware that his mind felt more expansive, thought flickered through his mind faster than he could watch them and he felt a wealth of love that was unfathomable. His heart ached for something he didn't know he was missing and he could feel tears of exhaustion at the never ending feeling, the feeling of loving and wanting and wanting so deeply to be wanted in return. The fear of pushing too hard, that he had pushed too hard. The worry that he would never get what he wanted and the mirror desire of not caring about his own feelings if only...Soul was happy? Soul slowly opened his eyes and realized this is what Scott felt for him. The feeling felt old and as new as it was to him it felt like a part of his being, something that had always been there, something he would never be rid of. Soul willed his aching exhausted arms to wrap around Scott. "I love you." He whispered and the feeling began to fade, Soul could feel the edges of his mind returning to their usual safe boundaries and his feelings return to his own. He was overwhelmed, he felt known, and he couldn't stay awake for a moment longer. Charcoal Ch. 10 Thank you so much for you encouragement! Any comments are welcome, I hope you enjoy! ***** Scott couldn't believe it had actually happened, he felt resolved, like everything he had ever felt was finally settling into his skin. An anxiety that had always been a part of him was lifted. He felt satiated and calm and thoroughly exhausted. And then he felt Soul's arms wrap around him and heard the whispered I love you and nothing could have been more perfect. Scott felt Soul drift to sleep and a feeling he recognized as not his own began to seep through his body, a lack of control, a soul deep longing to be his own person. Absolute desolation and fear, Scott lost his breath as the feeling intensified overwhelming any peace he had felt. He knew the feeling was not his own, and knew that it wasn't as intense in him as it was in Soul but it still destroyed him. Scott looked at the man next to him and understanding flooded him. He put the pieces together, the days of working up to this moment, to joining. The sudden calm, the last afternoon of happiness. Soul had wanted him to see him happy, wanted him to know his leaving wasn't because of Scott, it was to rid himself of this feeling. Scott understood but he knew that he couldn't let Soul complete the next part of his plan. Scott concentrated on the bond, on the little piece of his heart and mind that had never been truly his and began to push, push the dark, raging desperation back, he tried to fill the hole with love and understanding and the piece he had felt minutes before, and while it left him slowly Scott came to understand that it was a part of Soul something he would never be able to fix. It was something only Soul could take care of. Scott felt the edges of his happiness begin to fold in on themselves again. He had once again failed, and it was a failure he would never be able to fix. *** Soul woke up slowly, sore in the most delicious way, and wrapped in Scotts arms. For a moment he was content to simply lie there comforted. But he knew that Scott would have felt his feelings and if he were to put his plan into action he would have to act quickly. Unfortunately when Soul tried to wiggle gently from Scott's arms Scott woke and only held him more tightly. "I understand." Scott whispered and Soul could feel tears spring to his eyes. It was what he wanted, or a part of what he wanted, something he had wanted for so, so long. "I understand, but I can't lose you- please?" Scott's voice started strong but lost its rigidity with his last words. Soul felt the tears begin to streak down his cheeks but his resolve remained. There was no way he would change his mind. He needed to do this for himself, for everyone. He needed to feel some power for once in his life and most of all he needed a rest. A break from all of it and the only way he could do that was to end it forever. Soul felt the edges of his mind melt and knew that Scott was looking inside him, feeling what he was feeling. He wanted that ability for himself, but didn't want to wait around to learn. The sooner he did it the less it would hurt Scott, and now that he was so deeply attached to Scott, even in love with him, going gently mattered a lot to him. Soul felt Scott begin to cry into his hair and willed his feelings to change. But he could see no other way out but death. His challenge now was to figure out a way to do it without Scott stopping him. When Scott had stopped crying they quietly showered and got dressed Soul found himself reaching out to Scott, but Scott seemed to always be just a bit out of reach, even when his fingers did manage to connect it was apparent that Scott had shut down his emotions and Soul didn't have the tools to reach into him and pull the out. It made him feel worse, if that was possible, but he told himself that it was better that way. If Scott was already distancing himself it wouldn't be so bad for him when Soul was gone. The house was again almost unnaturally quiet. But it didn't have the feeing or atmosphere as it did the day before, something had been irreparably damaged between them. Soul almost felt like drawing, but he wouldn't let himself, he wandered through the house following Scott like a lovesick puppy. It was hours before he realized that Scott wasn't really going anywhere, that he wasn't doing anything. The random objects he picked up and put down were just that- random. The rooms they passed through didn't have any meaning and the pacing through hallways was just pacing. When Soul realized that he wasn't going to reach Scott he began plotting with more intensity. He didn't know very much about dying. He could take some sort of pills- but he didn't know where any were or how many he would need to take. He could try to set up a hanging but it was unlikely he would be dead before Scott caught him, and honestly he didn't know if he was brave enough to suffocate. He could cut himself, but he wanted to avoid pain if he could. There were no guns, and again he didn't know if he could make himself do it. He began considering the objects Scott had picked up in each room, wondering if there was some way to die with them. He could think of ways for most of them, but ways he was not willing to attempt. Cursing his cowardice Soul sat on one of the couches in one of the seemingly endless sitting rooms. He had thought this would be so easy, but nothing here was easy, and leaving was the most difficult of all. Scott watched Soul for a moment before resuming his wandering. Soul felt acutely alone and desolate for a few moments then decided to use his free time to look for something that could help him. He knew there were many bathrooms, and surely one would have some sort of pill he could take. Sighing he levered himself off the couch with entirely too much effort and went on his own aimless quest through the house. Knowing he had little to nothing to lose Soul opened every door that was unlocked and rifled through every drawer and cabinet he could find. Finally when he was getting close to giving up, or taking a break as he told himself he found an unlocked room. When he made it through the door Soul realized it was really a suite of rooms, something about the airy decorations mixed with pieces of heavy furniture told him it was Josie and Nova's rooms. Thinking of all the difficulty she had with her pregnancy Soul felt a renewed sense of purpose, there had to be something in here that would help him. He was not wrong. He found in one of the bedside tables a bottle full of small blue pills, take one for sleep, the label read. Soul took the whole bottle. He left the room as undisturbed as he could. He thought he could take the pills immediately but didn't want anyone to stumble upon him and make him throw them up- or worse take him to a hospital. He would wait until it was almost time for bed, then his drowsiness would be natural and no one would know what had happened until the next morning. Soul felt bad for a moment, imagining Scott waking up next to his cold body, but shook off the feeling. They would have the night, and Soul would make it up to him by taking the bond with him. Scott would finally be able to make the choices that were the best for him, and not worry about what might happen to Soul. Dinner was quiet in the best way, Sylvia was there, along with a few of the others, but she didn't speak, just frowned at her food and seemed to shiver every now and again. She seemed sick and Soul couldn't summon an ounce of sympathy for her. He knew the time was nearing for him to leave this place and if she died with him all the better for everyone, especially for Scott. Scott and Soul walked to their rooms slowly, still not recovered from the day and the unexpected exchange of emotion. Soul still felt like Scott was pulling away from him, but by the time they were ready for bed, and Soul had the bottle of pills hiding under his pillow Scott was pulling him closer, and moments later kissing him, sliding his hands under Soul's soft top. "I don't want to let you go." Scott whispered into Soul's hair so quietly it almost couldn't be heard. Soul wanted to respond, to reassure him, but couldn't find the words. He tried to summon all the love he felt for Scott, all the pleasure he had felt in his arms, and tried to push that feeling toward the place in his chest he could feel Scott, tried to push that feeling into him so he would have something to hold onto when Soul was gone, then Soul put his mind to making Scott forget. *** Soul pulled himself gently from Scott's arms, successfully this time, and gingerly swung his legs out of bed fighting his own post-coital drowsiness. He could sleep forever in just a few moments, he told himself, willing his eyes to remain open as he quietly pulled the bottle from under his pillow. The small pills looked black in the darkness of the room, and he wondered it this would work. They were so tiny and seemingly innocent. There were ten in the bottle, and Soul hoped it would be enough. He had remembered to set a glass for water in the bathroom and he took the pills in one swallow, they tried to stick in his throat gripping each other and fighting all the way down. Soul fought his gag reflex and sore throat and finally they were down. Relieved and sad that it would be over soon Soul made his way back to the bed and crawled under the covers next to Scott. He wanted to feel Scott's arms around him but didn't want to make the discovery of his body any more jarring, so he placed a pillow in Scott's arms to replace his body, and curled around a pillow of his own and waited for it to be over. *** Scott woke with a feeling of dread building inside him. He knew that there was little he could do to stop Soul from dying, but he didn't think it would happen so soon, he didn't think he would do it in their bed, and yet when he pulled the pillows from between them his fears were confirmed. Soul was absolutely still and pale, a hit of blue shadowing his eyes and lips. His chest was still and cool. Scott sat frozen for a few moments; waiting for the desolation to hit him, for the ripping feeling of the bond being broken and it didn't come. He could still feel Soul, just out of reach. It was worse than the years of wondering what feeling him would be like and with that thought Scott felt the tears begin to fall. Soul had wanted him to be free of the bond, he knew that, but this was more trapped than he had ever felt, he was more useless than he had ever been and now there was no chance to redeem himself. The only way he had gotten through the other long, long years was knowing there was a chance for everything to change. It was all over and all his pain had been for nothing, all his pain was nothing compared to the long years awaiting him. Scott couldn't face seeing anyone, saying anything, he just wrapped his arms around the still body that had been his love and held him close. *** Soul was drifting, it was dark here and peaceful. Just like he had imagined death, and it was wonderful. He had thought he wouldn't be able to think, but the gently dreamlike suggestions floating through his mind didn't bother him. It was kind of nice to still exist in some way. If it was this peaceful. The only bad thing was he could still feel Scott, not distinctly but there was a niggling feeling where his heart would have been, if it had been beating. Where a deep sadness had made its home. Soul hoped Scott would feel better soon, for both their sakes. Soul drifted deeper and the thoughts became even less distinct, but there were images, dark swirling things that should have scared him but just felt familiar. There were feelings that almost felt like memories. Voices just out of reach, words he could almost understand. Still he drifted through the inky shapes, his own body indistinct, only a thought surrounding his consciousness, gently, free of the rigidity of bones and skin. He watched the shapes, and listened to the voices and drifted deeper, so deep it felt like he was beyond sleeping. He would have wondered if he could, if this was sleeping to his spirit. If being dead didn't stop him from thinking why wouldn't it keep him from sleeping? Soul thumped solidly into a room or somewhere... he stumbled before realizing he no longer had a body. He laughed to himself silently, and wondered for a moment if he could make a sound. But his wondering cut of when he became aware of where he was. It was the forest, the one made from hands and nails and smoke, the one he had been drawing seemingly forever. He really didn't want to be here. The foreboding he had avoided was again closing around his throat choking him. This was altogether too real. This wasn't just an image it was a place and here he knew bad things could and would happen to him. He couldn't breathe and even though he didn't need to, it terrified him. Slowly he looked around and realized this was the composite of what he had drawn for so many years, exactly as he had drawn it. The image wasn't a metaphor he didn't understand it was a real place. It was Hell. "Oh fuck." Soul whispered the words and no sound came out. He turned to his right and found that there was a gate. It was the only thing that looked manmade. It was carved from rusting iron and towered over even the trees. Soul began walking toward it even as everything that was left of him screamed at him to stop. But the gate was opening and he couldn't help himself from entering. Thought streamed through his mind. What had he done to deserve Hell? He hadn't really hurt anyone, except Scott, and that wasn't on purpose. He had never really believed in God but that would only send him to purgatory wouldn't it? He walked through the gates and it hit him. He had killed himself. That was why her was here. But it didn't explain why he had dreamt and drawn this place for so long. At least, maybe, he would finally get some answers. Soul walked and walked and the feeling of dread began to fade. It wasn't nice here, that was for sure but nothing was bothering him. The scenery was creepy but nothing was trying to hurt him. He could stay here if he needed to. Maybe he could figure out why everything in his life had gone so horribly wrong. Maybe in death there would be answers. And even better his new non body didn't seem to get tired, he walked for what could have been hours and felt no aches or pains. Just the faint hint of foreboding and curiosity. He hadn't been able to stop walking, or turn in any direction that he chose, but he wouldn't know how to choose. This suited him just fine. And if this was his eternity- so be it. *** Scott had begun to sob, and if he wasn't holding Soul so tightly or if he hadn't been hoping quite so hard he might have missed the soft exhale of breath. Scott's sobs stopped immediately though the tears continued to fall without pause. "Soul?" He asked quietly, there was no response, but there was a small hiccup. Scott knew that people had just died sometimes made small sounds as their bodies began to decompose but that had definitely been a hiccup, a distinct muscular event, not a random- it happened again. And Scott began to shake Soul willing him to breathe normally, to open his eyes, to take a breath or something, but he was still. But Scott's hope was unstoppable now. Scott picked Soul up and ran down the hall ignoring his lack of breath and clothing, with only one thing on his mind, making sure Soul didn't slip any further away. Scott could make his spirit come back, if only Soul had a body with enough life left to come back to. Scott looked sadly down at the body that looked resolutely dead in the small hospital bed. He had demanded the bed be brought to his rooms, his childhood rooms with the mural of poppies and familiar distance from the center of the house. It was funny that this was the first time Soul had seen his room, or rather not seen it. He was here finally but for all purposes gone. He was propped up with pillows but his head stubbornly listed to the side no matter what Scott did to prop it up, the tube down his throat forced air into his lungs and the electronic box on his chest sent muscle spasm inducing shocks to his heart forcing it to pump. "If he's dead it won't help." Nova had told him as he attached the box. "If he's dead the blood will clot and you will just have a mess." Scott had known Nova wasn't trying to be cruel but it had felt cruel. He really believed resolutely that Soul was coming back and mess or not he would make sure his chances were as good as possible before reaching into the bond and pulling him back. There were just a few things he had to do first. *** Soul felt jostled for a few moments but he was not able to stop walking. His throat began to burn his chest burned and it felt like things were punching him in the chest every few moments. It was very uncomfortable and Soul really wished it would stop. But he was soon distracted as the landscape began to change. There began to be more different body parts, not just hands but arms, legs. Feet, even, and here and there what looked like closed eyes. Soul shuddered. Not only were the body parts getting larger the forest they formed was getting deeper, the dread began to build again. When the light was almost completely obscured and Soul began to be thankful for his inability to stray from the path because it ensured he wouldn't fall or get hopelessly lost, or even worse, lead him to inadvertently touch some of the flesh plants. He wondered for a moment what they would feel like, and if it would be worse if they were blood warm- or cold. Soul's dislike of being dead began to increase and he began to regret his decision to end it all when he came to another gate. This one was smaller and at each cross of the iron bars there were eyes. They blinked slowly at Soul and he wondered if it was worse that they could blink, or if simply staring would have made the whole thing worse. Soul didn't have to wonder too long because the doors opened and his legs began to move again. Soul waked for only a few minutes more before he stopped moving in front of a fountain, it was enormous and filled with something that he didn't want to identify, it seemed almost like the shadows that had surrounded him on his way falling to Hell, they seemed more solid here, or rather liquid. Soul was now free to move on his own but found himself unwilling to move, he waited, sure that something would show itself to him now the compulsion was gone. He stared into the fountain, watching the shadows intertwined in ever narrowing fractals. He found himself drawn to the patterns, even reaching out a hand to touch. "I wouldn't if I were you." Soul turned; surprised by the voice even if a part of him was waiting for it. The voice was as cool as it was deep, and even though the words held a hint of humor, Soul had the feeling the owner of the voice wouldn't have a very good sense of humor. "Well not if you don't want to stay here forever." *** Scott held Soul's hand in his own, the chill seeping into it was worrying him, and he couldn't wait any longer. He held the cup of tea in his other hand, the steam wafting from it didn't smell very good but he trusted that it would help, and anything was worth getting Soul back, even if it meant following him to Hell. Scott felt himself falling, it was an oddly peaceful feeling but he didn't let the peace get to him. He had to stay focused, he had to keep his eyes open and follow the thin invisible thread that was connecting him to what remained of Soul, if he let that intangible string break, of if he drifted too far off course he would have a nearly impossible task getting back to himself, if he would even want to after having lost Soul forever. And so even as the voices whispered for him to follow them promising love, peace, anything he had ever wanted he had to resist, and even as the shadows slithered through his mind promising to tell him the answers to everything he had ever wanted to know he pushed them away, and as the flickers of memories he longed to relive danced at the edges of his vision he closed himself off to them and willed himself to fall more quickly, chasing after the thread. Charcoal Ch. 10 Soul had an unknown head start and it would take hours to follow him again and any distraction could ruin his hopes. Scott focused himself, reminding himself that everything he wanted could be found with Soul, and that the only thing he really wanted was Soul. With that thought in his mind he landed in a hand on the outskirts of Hell. Charcoal Ch. 11 Scott started when he realized the skin on the hand he had landed in was warm, he imagined, before he scrambled to the ground, that he could feel a heartbeat. This place was familiar to him in a way that went deeper than his current life. He paused for a moment to collect himself when he was standing on the relatively stable ground. He didn't spend too much time thinking about what body parts could grow out of. Scott was in Soul's hell and he had to get him back. He began to walk following the thread that would forever connect them. Scott tried to hurry, he didn't want to be here any longer than he needed to, and he wanted to get back before anything could happen to their bodies. Scott didn't know how long he had been falling, or how time passed here. Everything was an enigma, except his purpose, to get his arima, his soul back. * Soul turned slowly to look to the owner of the voice, but he didn't see anyone there. "Things are tricky here aren't they, but it couldn't be that easy to find all the answers could it?" Soul turned again, but as the voice was behind him again. Soul hated not being able to see who was talking to him. He remembered the inky whispers during his fall and the flickering images. He knew this voice was a continuation of them, and as tempting as they had been he didn't want to give in. He didn't want to give in to the trick of this voice either. "What a clever boy, though you didn't come here in a very clever way. Leaving your body behind, souls aren't very sturdy when they are untethered, just like those you saw there." Soul couldn't see the gesture or the speaker but he knew that it was referring to the swirls of darkness in the pool, and knew he did not want to become one of them. "So clever boy what do you want to know? You must ask the right questions, because as you know there are definitely stupid questions and I hear quite a lot of them." Soul stayed quiet. He didn't know what he wanted to ask. He had already found more than he had expected. He had expected, had wanted, nothing, and yet he could feel that answers he had been waiting for his whole life were at his fingertips. But he also knew that he could ruin everything with a word, ruin it in a way that went beyond dying, beyond nothing. He would be trapped in some unknown form, and there would be truly no way out because he was already dead. Soul thought of his mother, about what Sylvia was planning, about how to get out of here. There were so many questions that he could ask. He could ask how Scott was doing, and whether he was going to stay dead. But nothing seemed like the right questions. He wished he could draw, that he could be truly alone. That he could live a normal life. Knowing he wasn't going to get any of those things Soul sat down on the surprisingly warm ground. He wasn't tired, but curling his insubstantial arms around his fading legs was a small comfort. He hid his face between his knees and closed his eyes. He had never been good at asking questions, he was good at figuring things out, find ways to slip through the cracks and avoiding questions, asking questions required interacting, and speaking, two things that were not skill he had developed further than what was absolutely necessary. "How do I know what the right questions are?" Soul heard a laugh and could almost feel the warm breath brush the back of his neck. He suppressed a shutter and closed his eyes tighter. He imagined a face for the voice, a person he couldn't see was somehow better than a person that wasn't there. "That is dangerously close to a stupid question, and not deserving of a clever answer, so I will tell you an almost stupid answer to match your almost stupid question." The voice seemed to come from changing directions, as if its speaker was pacing. "There is no way to know the right question, you must simply trust yourself." Soul sighed, he could argue that his question was slightly better than the answer but he stayed silent. He had to trust himself to get out of this. His last few choices had helped him in unexpected ways. He could do it again; maybe he would find some unexpected answers. "Who is watching through the eyes in the gate?" Maybe a question he didn't particularly want the answer to would throw the invisible speaker off, Soul felt that the creature was bored. Boring it more would definitely not be beneficial to him, and would not lead to him getting anything out of their encounter. And as disturbing as the voice was, Soul really didn't want to be left alone here. "Much, much better, that question is almost clever. They are my eyes, the hands are my hands, the fingers and nails and lashes and feet- all of it is mine. I have been here waiting for longer than you can know and I have grown, I have swallowed countless souls and given them form, I have spat them out, shat them out, thrown them up and eaten them again. Some grow and some stagnate. Some float in pools of my stomach and some rest in the hallows of my teeth, but they are all a part of me, just as you will be some day." Soul swallowed. Information yes, but not really anything he wanted to hear, and nothing that he knew what to do with, nothing of what he needed to know. "Is my mother here?" "She is, because she is a part of you, she is here because she is in hell, but she is not here, because this place, well, it's all for you. Your personal slice of eternity. You will end up here alone, but with everything and everyone that created you and will come after." There was a small pause, if the speaker had a body Soul would have placed a shrug in the space, he almost could feel a small ripple under him, if the whole landscape had lifted a shoulder. "It's rather complex. Language is not good for explaining. You can only really understand once you are a part of it." "Is my mother dead?" Soul felt another laugh against the back of his neck. "Oh that is such a long story my clever boy, but you will hear it, because you have nowhere else to go, at least not yet. You have asked a clever question but I do not think you will like the answer." * Scott walked as quickly as he could, he was aware of the way he was not quite here. It was very clearly a place for the dead and it would not be a good place to be lost, or stuck. He focused on the fragile thread holding him together, connecting himself to Soul and to his soul. He passed from the mostly open landscape into deeper and deeper forests of- body parts. He wondered what was in Soul's mind to produce such a place. Scott tried not to look too closely to anything he saw, but as the forest got deeper he began to stumble over obstacles he didn't want to touch with his bare hands. He was forced to slow down, to look where he was going and what he saw did as much to disturb him as the warm soft skin he felt every time he fell. Scott began to imagine he heard voices whispering to him, promising him a break from the dissembled parts, a break from the almost heartbeat he couldn't quite ignore. He saw shadows out of the corners of his eyes, slithering through his legs, almost brushing against his face, promising answers, comfort, Soul. Scott flinched away from them and even though he never felt them he tripped over them, tripped trying to avoid them. He knew they lied, but the deeper he went the better their promises sounded. The thread seemed to be fading even faster than his willpower, and each whispered thought that breezed through his mind held a deeper compulsion. He could stop for just a moment, retreat from the skin, the heartbeat, the horrible living warmth. He could always begin again. Time began to have no meaning, he would find Soul eventually, did it matter if it was in the next moments, or in the next lifetime? Scott tried to hold onto his determination to reach Soul as quickly as he could but each time he fell he got up less quickly. Closer to the ground the heartbeat seemed almost soothing, the warmth like waking with Soul wrapped around him. The shadows whispered that he was already with Soul, that all of this was Soul. That the heartbeat was Soul's, that the hands that grasped at him through the dark were Soul's hands, that each scratch he got from unseen fingernails were the same as Soul scoring his back in the midst of an orgasm. Scott finally saw a break in the hands, in the shadows. He had made it somewhere, he felt his determination return but as it did the last pull of the thread disappeared. Scott had lost his Soul. If he would have thought about the end of their bond he would have guessed there would be intense pain, desolation, even death, but he hardly noticed its absence. He reached a gate covered in rolling lidless eyes, and as he gingerly pressed it open, wincing at the smooth slippery, and altogether too yielding flesh of the eyes, he realized he had no direction, nothing to follow, and for the first time in his life he had the opportunity to choose his next action based solely on what he wanted. Scott was through the gate and he wanted back in his body, back in his house, in his bed, but the homey image was incomplete, what he really wanted, compulsion or not, was Soul. * "And so you see, the question of if she is alive is an altogether more complex question than one would imagine." Soul stared into the swirling darkness in the fountain, and wondered if that fate, or the fate of his mother sounded worse. She had found a way to hide, but at what cost, her personhood, her peace? Soul was still angry with her for leaving him with a shadow, but the alternative? To be in pieces so small they could never be assembled, to be scattered bits of shadow aware and incomplete, without direction? Soul couldn't imagine the feeling and didn't want to. Pain was one things, stagnation was another, but the deep incompleteness of no longer being one entity? "You little boyfriend might be able to explain the feeling- well that is if he remembers it, you were quite the naughty boy weren't you. Clever though, using your body to get what you want. Though you still haven't quite managed to find what you really want have you?" Soul didn't respond, but the voice seemed to like talking, and Soul realized that he was a better captive audience than digested, dissembled, ancient bits of souls. The creature must have gotten so bored waiting for him. "I wasn't just waiting for you, you know. I am waiting for many, many things." Soul had gotten used to the sharp changes in subject during the story of his mother, but he didn't think he would ever get used to the bits of his thoughts being pulled from his mind into the conversation. "Well it sure sounds awkward if you think about it that way, so try this way. We are essentially in your mind now. And you, well you aren't quite anything right now, your thoughts are just out here in the open, diffusing with the atmosphere." Soul looked down and found he had faded even more, his edges were gone and the color that tinted the air around his consciousness was wavering, like it couldn't quite tell where he began and it ended. "You don't want to stay here much longer, free thoughts are one thing, but to be only an assemblage of thoughts? Not really anyone's favorite. Though your boyfriend is quite slow. I think he must have gotten distracted by the sudden freedom." Soul looked up from his fading being. Scott was there and- "What do you mean, freedom?" "Oh stupid boy, that is really not a clever question. I was beginning to have such high hopes for you. I suppose a bit more time in the world might help you. I will be lonely waiting for you to return, but the time will pass quickly before I see you again I think." Soul stood, and the feeling was so strikingly similar to sitting he almost fell, his molecules were spreading and instead of feeling the ground beneath his feet he felt only the different temperature, the steady thrum of what he had though was his heartbeat and its absence. "But you have been so fun these few days, I will answer it. The Gifts as you call them fade here. They are nothing more than beliefs and impressions, and as you fade what holds them together fades as well. The bond is gone, and will never be again. Your boyfriend is close, but you will have to find him on your own, go quickly if you want him to leave with you. His hell is a very different place than here, and if you don't find him quickly he will find out what it is like before his time, and wouldn't that just be so sad?" Soul tried to gather himself, but only felt his being diffuse more. He needed to find Scott. He had no idea where he was, or what would happen if they couldn't find their way back, the creature was gone, though he never saw it his diffused being felt the change in the atmosphere distinctly. Soul looked around and noticed he was sensing more than seeing and his urgency ratcheted up another level. The creature had said it had been days and his body was waiting for him, Scott's was as well and Soul knew that if their bodies died they would be trapped in another way, even if they made it out of this hell. He choked back a laugh and searched again. This place was endless and time was nearly gone. * Scott stood inside the gate and stared. A ghoulish shadow creature was wrapped around Soul's crouched body, whispering in an unknown language. Its head turned to face him, its eyeless face smiling through Soul's fading body. It wrapped itself tighter around him before vanishing. Soul stood and Scott watched the impression of his love shiver in the air, fading and diffusing slowly, bits of him drifting away, fading and settling into the soft skin of the ground. Soul looked around, his almost face desperate, Scott tried to walk to him but was unable to get any closer no matter how he tried. It was like a nightmare, he could run but he didn't move, he could circle around or stand still, but he could only watch as little bits of Soul faded. * Soul spun fighting to feel Scott, searching inside himself for the ache of Scott's mourning, for his pain, his love, for the small thread he had felt while falling, but the only thing he could feel was the fading of his imagined body. The creature had been right, the bond was finally gone, and Soul could only wish for it back. He had to find Scott, and they had to figure out how to get out of here, and both were things he had no idea how to do. He stopped moving and called in his voice that was not a voice. He pulled everything that he was, everything in himself that called out to Scott and yelled. There was no sound and the effort caused even more of himself to fade, but he felt something. A pause in the constant pulse. A stutter of thoughts, or the whispering he had become so accustomed to. Everything was still and silent, and in that missed heartbeat there was a glimmer of something that did not belong. Soul started toward the spot he had seen. It was gone but Soul trusted what he knew he had seen and reached. He felt nothing, saw nothing, but he knew from the place inside his heart that was no longer his own that he had found Scott. "Lets go home." He whispered, and even though there was no sound, he knew that he had been heard. * Soul felt like he had been burned to the bone, he felt like he had run a marathon in his bare feet and that he had not eaten in days. His soul hurt, his blood hurt, and his lungs felt like the air was razorblades. He wanted to throw up, but the thought of that much effort hurt not only his body but his thoughts as well. His body wanted to die, and each breath was an exercise in masochism. Soul focused on the solidity of his pain and told himself with each razorblade breath that it was better than feeling himself fade piece by piece. "It makes you think dying maybe isn't worth it doesn't it." The sound of Scott's voice was almost enough to motivate Soul to open his eyes, but the burning he felt from remembering he had eyes was enough to deter him. "If you ever want to look that deeply into you subconscious just ask, there are much easier ways than dying. You almost started rotting." Soul couldn't stop the dry heave. He felt decomposed, but he would really rather not think about his body as literal dead meat. "That was harsh, I'm sorry. I would give you some pain meds, but well you might die for real so you are just going to have to deal for a few days." And so Soul dealt. He was conscious of pulling each breath through his lungs, he was aware of the water being dripped slowly down his throat and the balm that was dabbed on his lips almost constantly. And after an age Soul felt secure enough in his body that he let go, and slept with only the lightest suggestion of dreams, there were lights and colors and whispers and almost sensations, but each faded before he was fully aware, and when he woke he opened his eyes in a field of poppies. Soul blinked a few times, caught off guard by the lack of pain. And realized that he was not really seeing flowers, but a painting of flowers. He was lying not in a bed of grass, but in a real bed, with arms wrapped around him and a hand brushing his hair out of his eyes. There was a strange lack of pain, Soul almost though he had died for real, but, he thought slowly, if he had really died he would be back in hell and this was entirely too nice to be hell. Soul sat up slowly and turned to look at Scott, his face was the most wonderful thing Soul had seen. All his odd feelings were gone, his worries about the truth in them was gone. He was finally able to look at Scott and feel what only he felt, and what he felt was a strange fluttering in his stomach, and heat in his cheeks like he had fallen asleep in the sun. "Um hi." Soul said, then looked down at his hands. He felt, shy, but more than that he just really hoped Scott still liked him. Scott had never felt ambiguous toward him, Soul knew, but he had never seen Soul without the oppressive bond telling him that Soul was his everything. Soul knew he couldn't be everything for Scott, but he really, really wanted to be something. "Hi to you, I love you." Soul looked up sharply. There was no way it could be that easy. He had to be dreaming, alive but dreaming, there was no way he could be in heaven so soon after all he had done. He hadn't been alive, awake, long enough to make up for even a tiny bit of what he had- "Stop thinking so hard. I had a lot of time to think while you were trying not to die. I had a lot of time to tell you all I need to say. I was waiting for you to see me for real. When I was stuck in the disgusting hell that is apparently your mind ,I felt the bond break, and really nothing changed. They whispered that I could have anything that I wanted and all I wanted was you. I think I found my hell there, I could have had anything I wanted but you, you couldn't see me, and you are the only one that ever really has. It was torture and it wasn't even a moment compared to forever." Soul wanted to frown and roll his eyes, it was entirely too sappy, but he could still feel the butterflies trying to claw their way out of his stomach with their tiny harmless feet and he sighed instead. "I loved you even when I hated you. Being dead was no fun without you. I think it wouldn't have been hell if I didn't remember you. But I did and you ruined my peace." Soul realized as he continued to talk that his speech was entirely unromantic. He employed the one tactic that had been consistently effective in his life and stopped talking. Soul looked at Scott for a moment and just let himself feel. He could feel a smile trying to sneak its way onto his face, but it was just not going to happen. He kissed Scott instead, and when he felt the corners of Scott's mouth turn up he had to smile too, if only to keep kissing him. Soul let his hands creep under Scott's soft shirt, he let them trace up his back and around to the tight nubs of his nipples, he let his nails train down the gentle bumps of Scott's ribs, he let them feel the goosebumps his touch had caused. And when they had finished their journey he let them wind into Scott's hair to pull him closer. Charcoal Ch. 11 Soul only pulled back when his still tender lungs reminded him that oxygen was a necessity and not a luxury. Soul opened his eyes to look at the face of his Scott, his love, and saw his own feelings reflected back at him. He watched love, he watched relief, and finally he watched the spark of lust grow into a fire that matched to one growing inside himself. "Please, make lo- fuck to me?" Soul's voice was soft and he didn't know what he was saying and he didn't care until Scott began to laugh. "Make fuck to you? That sounds fun but care to explain?" "Fuck, love me, fuck me, just do something I love you and I suck at words, I have to show you!" Soul could feel his flush darken but he paid himself no mind. He had attention only for Scott and getting his clothes off. He started with Scott's shirt because it was already in his hands. When the shirt was gone he pulled off his own and was reaching for the drawstring on Scott's pants when his hands were caught in a gentle grip. "You were literally dead three days ago and you haven't eaten, and you just woke up-" There was a hint of worry mixed with the urgency in Scott's eyes and Soul hated it. He was alive damn it and he was going to get what he wanted. "Food will be there later." He jerked his hands but they were firmly caught. "I'll be here later too." Soul wailed in frustration and when Scott let him go he flopped onto his back and pulled off his own pants. The feel of the sheets against his skin was almost more than he could bear. It was almost worse than the compulsion from Sylvia because there was no feeling of wrongness to temper the feeling. He writhed and palmed his cock. It hurt it felt so good and Soul bit his lip just hard enough to draw blood. But instead of diffusing the feeling it added to the overload of sensation flooding his synapses. He froze for a moment stunned by the sudden intensity of his feeling. And in that moment he could have sworn that a soft voice whispered to him enjoy life, enjoy your body, enjoy love. "Soul?" Scott looked down at him and he reached yanking Scott down for a kiss, determined to get when he wanted Soul flipped them so he was sitting securely on Scott's stomach. He ground against the firm muscles beneath him and knew that he could come easily just like this, the warm friction of Scott's skin almost more than he could comprehend, but still he wanted more. Scott had finally realized that Soul was not going to take his recent death as an excuse and held him tightly, his fingers digging into the muscles of his ass, it felt amazing and still Soul wanted more. He ground harder and leaned down for a kiss, he didn't pull away before asking for lube, speaking against Scott's lips, hoping that Scott would have some nearby because if he didn't Soul was going to hope spit worked better than he had heard. Luckily he didn't have to find out because Scott was handing him a small bottle. Soul growled in frustration when the small cap was too difficult for his shaking hands to open. He was about to give up again but Scott flipped them again and before he had regained his equilibrium Scott was rubbing a cool slick finger against his hole and Soul was able to breathe. Finally they were getting somewhere. As Soul sighed Scott slid two finders inside him. The burn was intense but Soul didn't mind, he loved every moment- but his desire for more hadn't left him. He writhed on Scott's fingers unaware of the myriad sounds he was making. When he found his voice the only words that he could find were variations on more, harder, please, and Scott. When Scott's third finger did little to alleviate the emptiness that haunted Soul he wrapped his legs tighter around Scott and flipped them again. The movement dislodged Scott's fingers but Soul didn't mind because he was able to, without hesitation, slide down the rigid pole of Scott's erection until he sat flush to Scott's hips and he could breathe again. "Oh fuck." Soul would have been satisfied to just sit for a moment and process the burn, the pleasure, and the soul deep completeness he felt, but Scott had different plans. "Potty mouth." Scott said, and thrust up, he couldn't go deeper but the movement shifted their position so he ground against Soul's prostate and Soul gasped- a breath away from climax. He leaned forward to rest his hands on Scott's chest and when Scott repeated his action the sensation was even more intense. Soul flinched and tried to conceptualize the feeling but Scott wasn't giving him any time to think, he kept thrusting, kept grinding and Soul's ability to even try to think fled, all he could do was hold on and try to breathe. He saw lights floating in front of his eyes but it was nothing compared to the fireworks that were building to an incomprehensible climax. Soul's muscles were clenching and releasing almost randomly, his legs shook and if his elbows weren't locked he would have fallen forward into Scott, he gasped as the feeling grew larger than his body and in a moment he was sure he wouldn't survive, the fear only made the rapture more complete and in a moment of clarity Soul knew that bond or not he would never be able to live without Scott. The feeling of physical release was almost secondary to the release of emotion. Soul was gasping and tears were falling down his cheeks as he laid his head against Scott's chest, the warmth of his seed between them and the feeling of Scott's release inside him soothed his burning skin. His muscles were like water and he couldn't have moved for anything. Soul felt the hand on his back begin to move, stroking his sweat soaked back, soothing his breathing, but not his tears. Soul let himself feel the anguish from the whole year, the confusion, the relief, the fear and the pain. He let himself feel how tired he was, from uncertainty and from death. He had slept for days but his body had no fuel. He had burned more than he had in reserves and he was completely empty. He had only tears left and in a few moments even those were gone. Unable to do a thing more Soul passed out completely. * Soul woke again hours later and felt exactly how expected to feel. Revived, but sore. He could feel his death and revival in his bones. The need to experience life as intensely as he could was no longer sustaining him and his stomach gnawed at him. His eyes opened to an empty room. And fear flooded him. He was alone in a room painted with poppies too familiar to be safe. Before Soul could work himself into too horrible a panic the door opened and the room was filled with the smell of chicken soup and warm bread. His stomach gave a roar of approval. Scott put the food on a side table and pulled Soul into a sitting position against the pillows before placing a pillow on his lap. "I couldn't find a tray so no spilling." And even though the soup was from a can it was the best thing Soul had ever tasted. Soul wanted to discuss all that he had learned, but after he had finished the soup he couldn't stay awake for a moment longer. He knew that Scott was probably tired of just watching him sleep but he couldn't resist his body's demands. He only had the presence of mind to hand the empty bowl to Scott before sliding back under the covers and falling asleep again. * Soul opened his eyes and for a moment he thought he was blind. There was no light in the room, and he knew that he was alone. He remembered after sitting up that he was not in the scarlet room and decided not to try and find the door. He still wasn't feeling himself and he had no idea how to get anywhere from where he was. It was difficult to wait, but he did. There was a feeling that something had changed in the house, something significant. It felt new but not entirely, something had been different since the first time he woke, he just hadn't had the time to consciously think about it. The house was dark, silent, as it had been before Soul's attempt to leave this world, but this silence was different. There wasn't the feeling of oppression; it was as if the house had released tension. Soul had never felt entirely comfortable in the house, and he didn't feel entirely comfortable in the darkness, alone, but it was a different unease. It was anticipation instead of dread. Soul sat and felt, and looked for the words to recount his experience. He tried to remember the invisible being's words exactly and found he could not, but the impressions he was left with were strong. Soul was confidant he knew what Sylvia was trying to do, and he was confidant that she would not be able to accomplish her goals. Soul was getting decidedly tired of sitting alone in the dark when the door opened. Even the slight illumination from the hall seemed bright. Soul's eyes easily picked up Scott's face in the flickering light. "The power has gone out. I brought a candle." It would have been romantic if Soul weren't so anxious to talk, finally. He patted the bed beside him, unwilling to stand even with the light of the candle. Scott set the candle on the bedside table where Soul's soup had rested hours before and sat cross-legged on the bed. Soul opened his mouth for his carefully thought out narrative, but Scott beat him to the punch. "Mother, Sylvia, is really not doing well. She hasn't been since- well since the bond, and she has gotten even worse since it was broken. Apparently she doesn't have that much power of her own. The bond, or its lack of completion was giving her the power." Soul frowned, she had made the bond herself it didn't makes sense- "How did she get power from something she created?" Soul felt the bed shift slightly as Scott shrugged. "I don't understand it really. Something about potential energy, she should have known that he power couldn't last but she ignored it. I think so much time passed she didn't really remember how little Gift she had." Soul still didn't understand but he had more questions. "Is she going to be okay?" "She could be, maybe. But the people she called to help her- aren't happy. It seems that her power had greater reach than we thought. They aren't loyal to her, not really. She has no one left. I don't think that anyone will take care of her. I will miss her but I couldn't- her time has passed." Scott rubbed his face and Soul guessed he was crying. He didn't mention it, he hated Sylvia but knew that Scott loved her, and would always lover her even when her influence was completely gone. And with this new information he might not have to share his plan, Sylvia was done and all Soul had to do was make sure Scott would be alright without her. Soul loved his mother even though he didn't know her, he loved her for her intentions, and for her sacrifice even if he would have given almost anything to have really met her. Maybe someday, somehow he would. He would have a lot of time and many opportunities to ask questions once he died. And hopefully he would have enough time to come up with clever questions to ask her. "They want to burn it." Scott said suddenly. "They want to burn the house to the ground." Soul looked up sharply, not realizing how deeply he had fallen into his thoughts. "Why?" "Because of whatever she was doing. It's not safe to leave it here, just in case she does survive, in case someone else wants what she wants, but it's my home, I don't know where else to go." Scott was definitely crying now and Soul didn't know how to soothe him. He could always go home even if there was no one waiting for him. He guessed they could go back to school but that wasn't really a home, and it seemed so unnecessary now, what were they going to do? Soul wrapped himself around Scott, knowing his words would do nothing to soothe him, and they sat, rocking gently for many minutes, until the smell of smoke curled softly, but persistently under the door. "Oh no" Scott whispered when it was certain the smell wasn't an accident. "I asked them to wait." But they hadn't, whoever they were, and they had to leave, immediately. * Soul had no idea where they were going, it was dark and they had left the candle in the room. They had nothing but the clothes they were wearing and each other. Soul followed Scott blindly hoping they could beat the flames, and when they burst through the final door into the garden the soft illumination of the stars was like heaven. The air was crisp with just the hint of a chill, but the heat from the already burning house was oppressive. There was already a group watching, and they joined them. The fire was almost beautiful in its destruction. The sound of flames roaring and the shattering of glass and loud cracks of beams breaking filled the night, louder than Soul would have imagined, and it was awe inspiring to see how quickly the fire destroyed the massive house and all the misery it had caused. It had begun to collapse in on itself when Scott broke the cacophonous silence. "Where is mother?" Eyes dropped to the ground, and for a moment no one spoke. "She didn't make it out." Nova said finally, softly, and even though he sounded almost mournful everyone knew it hadn't been an accident. Soul wrapped his arm around Scott, knowing it was an impossible thing to hear, and an even worse implication, but Scott held his head high. "I guess we are finally free." There were nods all around, but Soul saw one wicked smile, almost hidden by soft wavy hair, an expression he had never expected to see on Josie's face. ***** The end? I would love to hear your comments, they make me want to keep writing.