3 comments/ 10300 views/ 9 favorites Valley of the Woods Ch. 01 By: E_R_Rush He stumbled, his small feet catching on several felled branches and twigs, thorns tugged viciously at his delicate face and arms, desperate to catch hold and tear. Gasping, he ran, and I watched. High up in a spruce I gazed mesmerized as his limbs worked double time, his small lean frame weaved in and out of the trees and finally fell amongst the darkening leaves and twigs. I jerked upright, alarmed when he didn't stand. I leapt from my perch in the treetops and landed next to the small man. His long dark hair feathered out from his pale head and tangled into the leaves, his eyebrows bunched in a troubled manner, his eyes fluttered and I caught glimpses of the purest blue. My breath caught when I saw his lips; the pale pink pouted out slightly and cool breath swirled between the two rose petals. I reached out in a trance, my fingers brushed his cheek and my eyes eased closed. I gathered him gently in my strong arms and flew, leaping from tree to tree, I finally landed next to the small cabin nestled comfortably in the valley of the the woods. I slipped through the wide bay window and laid his small frame along the plush queen bed that sat in the middle of a barren room. I stared at him as he slowly curled his arms against his chest and drew his knees against his soft, angular jaw. I narrowed my eyes; concerned. His eyebrows bunched together, and his shoulders shook. He mewled quietly at first, until they eventually became terrified cries of distress. My eyes widened and my heart squeezed painfully in my chest. I placed my hands at his jaw, stroking his sharp cheekbones with my thumbs, murmuring soft words of comfort. His crying slowed, but he writhed even more frantically in my arms, tears leaked from his eyes and streaked his pale cheeks. Sitting on the bed I gathered him into my arms and held him softly, and very slowly, his shaking stilled and a shaky sigh escaped his throat. I clenched my jaw and gripped him close. He burrowed closer, small contented noises made me smile softly. So it was true. I closed my eyes and laid back, fully aware I would have to leave swiftly. However, it didn't matter as long as I could hold him. *** I awoke feeling alone, oh so alone. I drew a ragged breath and gripped my head. I teared up and wrapped my arms around myself, remembering the warm comforting arms that held me in my dreams the night before. His words, the ones I looked forward to swirled around in my mind and I smiled sadly. The word schadenfreude drifted lazily behind my eyes and I laughed grimly; that word had been painstakingly present during these last few years of my life. Tragic happiness. That's how I always felt nowadays. I sighed and rose shakily. Stumbling, I made my way to the bathroom. I scowled at the mirror, and it glared right back. I stared stoically. *What* had I allowed to happen to myself over the years?! My dark hair draped around my shoulders and my eyes in a listless sort of way. My once brilliant eyes sank deep into their sockets, and they seemed dull and free of intelligence. I stared blankly at my face, noticing how gaunt I had become, how my cheeks hollowed in and the darks circles blended into my cheek bones. That drew my attention. My fingers drifted lightly over my cheekbones that jutted unnaturally, and then down to my cracked lips. My tongue darted out over my lips, and my sunken eyes widened, shocked by the rough texture. I prodded my ribs, and lifted my shirt. You could clearly see every one of my ribs, and my protruding hips were pulling my skin taut over my stomach. I truly looked like a living skeleton. Staring into my hollow eyes I swallowed, and I realized how painful that simple action had become. I tore my attention away from the mirror, disgusted. I took five steps back, and bumped into the shower. I swiveled my head, and stared into the shower. Shrugging, I stripped the rest of the way and stepped into the dry shower. Soon I stood under the steady stream of water, stared up at the mildew stained ceiling. As the water pelted my throat and chest I wondered what the point was. Why...why was I here? I had yet to find my purpose, and i didn't think I ever would. I was loath to live if all I did was wander. *That* was hardly living. My lip trembled and a sob ripped out of my chest. I buried my head into my hands and cried. *** Chapter two That had been happening a lot. The crying. I cried and cried. I had a history of depression, it ran in my family. And lately it had been hitting me hard. I never experienced such a crippling pain as I had these past few years; it burned in my chest and I heaved, throat constricting over and over. My heart felt hollow, it had never experienced love, or very much joy. So, what's the point if your life is *that* void of love? I choked on a sob, my hand squeezed over my heart, I desperately scratched at my chest and begged myself to feel something. I slid onto my knees and curled in on myself. I gasped in ragged breaths until I tasted blood and became light-headed. My breathing deepened and my eyes fluttered closed. I drooped forward onto the mercifully cool tile, blacking out. *** I waited, sitting lightly atop the swaying spruce. Humming, I gazed along the treeline and thought. I thought about him, and his beautiful eyes, his soft lips, and then...about his tears. I frowned. Why did he cry? Was it something *I* had done? No, it couldn't have been, he calmed when I held him. I huffed, it wasn't me, so what was it? Was he scared of the dark? Growling in frustration I slammed my fist onto the side of the tree. The tree shuddered, leaves floated to the ground and birds screeched as they flew off into the sunset. Off in the distance I could see his house. Trees bent over it, as if in protection and birds perched atop his roof, milling around and squawking in disjointed rhythm. The windows slowly fogged and steam seeped from cracks in the doors, walls and windows. I leaned forward, my muscles strung tightly, and squinted, looking for him. My eyes searched, and my chest heaved. He was nowhere to be seen. The trees swayed violently as I leapt, springing from tree to tree. My mind went wild, and I whimpered; terrified. I landed on his roof with an ominous thud and crawled into his home through the chimney. Sputtering, coughing, and covered in soot I dashed through the house searching frantically. I could hear water running in the background and I slipped on the grimy wood flooring, falling in my haste to get to my suße. I pulled myself up swiftly, and slammed the door open. It hit the wall with a crash and shards of mirror rained down on my head and the trashed flooring. I ran in with reckless abandon, my one goal being my beloved. A naked scrawny figure was draped half in and half out of the shower, his arms pulled tight against his heart. Blood rolled steadily from his full lower lip and small scratches on his chest made my heart squeeze unpleasantly. I stooped, glass crunched underneath my bare feet and I flinched. I gathered his frail body gently into my arms and he began to convulse. I stared, horrified, as blood spewed from his mouth and I realized that his lip wasn't split; his blood had rolled down his lip and made it appear so. I sat, tears ran down my face and I cradled him close to my chest as he spasmed, blood painting the derelict walls and floor with vivid misery. He choked, and his hands reached to grasp at the base of his throat. I tipped his head up so he could breathe, and my body shook with the force of our combined sobs. With every one of his convulsions my heart fractured into pieces. It killed me to see him in pain, and he was enduring oh so much. His seizure slowed, and he coughed, blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth and his eyes eased open. *** Chapter 3 I was greeted by a bloodstained beauty. For a thousand moments I laid mesmerized, blood and tears dripped from our heaving forms. His jaw was strong, and it tapered down into a blunt pointed chin. His lips made me shudder; his bottom lip was full and pouted, with a smaller top. He had a confident roman nose that accentuated his dark green eyes that were framed by thick dark lashes. His lashes dripped with tears, and his dark eyebrows knitted together while he bit his deadly lower lip in concern. I sighed, content. If I was to be insane, I at least could be with him. The object of my previously blind dreams and fantasies had materialized and I could finally hold him. The temptation was too great; I draped my boney arms around his muscular shaking form, I laced my thin fingers against his broad shoulders. Blushing, I buried my face in his brown waves, and breathed deeply. He smelled like firewood and cinnamon; an intoxicating scent I instantly became hooked on. He started, and pushed me slightly away. I frowned, confused; in theory, my hallucination shouldn't reject me. After all, I created him to accept me. "Are you OK?" He questioned in a shaking voice, "You're not in pain or anything?" "Nope," I responded, burrowing into his chest, "Im fine. Why?" He cocked his eyebrow and gestured around the room broadly. The mirror lay fractured over the floor, reflection the copious amount of blood that painted the room. My jaw dropped and my eyes widened as I realized I was not only naked, but covered in a large amount of my own blood, which was also spattered all over the body that held me. My gaze dropped to his feet, they were torn up, jagged pieces of bloody mirror jutted out from the soles like mismatched puzzle pieces, steadily dripping blood into the dirty tile. I shuddered, tucking my knees up to my chin. "Uh," He said, squirming uncomfortably, "Uhm.." I felt something swell underneath my thigh, and looked down in confusion. My face flushed when it hit me, and I quickly scrambled off of him, hiding my own growing length with my hands. Blushing, he stood and cleared a path for me to walk through. However, I couldn't move. I stood, slack jawed as I stared at the massive tent in his pants. His girth strained against the zipper, and I could almost see it pulse. I swallowed dryly, my mouth parted slightly and I think I may have drooled. He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, and I was knocked out of my reverie. Blushing, I hurried out of the room, my manhood rock hard against my palms. "So...," He coughed awkwardly,"What's you name?" I turned to look over my shoulder as I jerked on some underpants and black skinny jeans. "Nanao Takeda, but most people call me Nana." "That's actually a very cool name," He said, grinning, "I've got a damned stupid name." He smirked at me; I was having issues with my shirt. It was currently pulled taut across my face, one arm in the armhole and the other one smashed against my cheek through the head hole. I huffed, grumbling as I finally freed myself and successfully tugged my baggy Nirvana shirt over my head. "So you're Japanese?" He asked, confused, "But you have those sexy- I mean you have blue eyes." My legs ached, so I sat on the bed and gestured for him to join me. I smiled when he plopped down right beside me. "Most people assume I'm Japanese because of my name and my dark hair. But the rest of me looks not at all Oriental, so yeah," I laughed, "Its a bit confusing. My mom was Japanese, so I got her dark hair, pale skin and she got to name me. The only thing my asshole father gave me is my nose, my eyes, and the waves in my hair." I smiled grimly, and crossed my arms over my chest. I waited for him to look at me in disgust, or worse, in pity. "Man, that sucks. My dad ditched my mom when I was little. I get it." *Thump thump* *thump thump* Scarlet burned under my cheeks, and my heart beat painfully in my chest. I smiled weakly and my heart melted. That was not good. + Hi guys, its Rush. This is my first submission, please be gentle. I will have new chapters hopefully next week sometime. Valley of the Woods Ch. 02 Hey guys its Rush. So I had some issues with my last submission, and I promise to do my best to fix them! (I would like to state that this is a supernatural story and also may contain violent material that some people may find disturbing.) I worked hard on this, so I hope you all enjoy it. *** Vampire: His scarlet face called to me. I could hear his blood singing to me as it pulsed audibly in his veins. The burning in my throat worsened as I took notice of his blood dripping from my chest; a temptation worse than any other. Feeling light headed I stared. His black Nirvana shirt stuck to his bloody chest, and his long dark hair brushed his mid back when he swept it all over his shoulder to twist nervously. I raked my eyes up to his delicate face and saw he was panting under the force of my scrutiny. I sucked in a shocked breath and scolded myself. I was bad for him. I would inevitably hurt him. In the end, it would be better if I never existed. After all, once a monster, always a monster. And I was most certainly that. "Nana," I whispered in a heated voice,"I'm leaving. I never existed. You have to forget me." My voice cracked on those last two damning words. "No," he breathed, "I couldn't possibly forget you. I *need* you. Please, " he started sobbing, "don't leave me. Don't make me be alone again. Don't go like the rest of them, " he slipped to the floor and scraped his nails along the wood while he broke down, " don't you dare fucking leave me...don't..leave..no! You can't" his head lifted shakily, tears rolled down his face and his eyes fluttered like brilliant blue butterfly wings. I stood unflinching and slowly backed away from my own happiness. He didn't need me, he needed someone human. Someone who could love and hold him. Someone normal. I turned and fled into the night. His screams echoed heart wrenchingly. Violent sounds of heartbreak chased me deep into the woods of my solitude. *** Nanao: There was nothing. Nothing but dark stone walls of misery. I had a hollowness, a deep gut wrenching sense of loss. I was all but comatose, the pain dragged me to the surface of the numbness that threatened to take me and never release me. I begged for the numbness. That lack if feeling I craved, second only to the burning desire for him to come back. Flames licked my heart menacingly. A constant reminder that I was alone. Oh so alone... My back arched and I screamed. The sheets wrapped around my white knuckles, and I twisted my fists and feet into the mattress as I writhed. "...alone." I sobbed, "So alone. Why I am I so alone?!" Springs squeaked under my weight as I shifted, curling in on myself into the fetal position. My fingers twisted into my black hair and tugged hard. That pain was dulled, I couldn't feel it above the raising cacophony of my misery clashing with my broken heart. Everyone left, it was inexorable that I would be left alone. But god, every time it was a deeper misery. There was no coming back from this one, there was no way. I dreamed about him for months, crying out and wishing I could see him. Whenever I was sad, or lonely he was always there, invisible to me. But I could always feel his warmth, could curl into his broad chest and shudder. I choked on my sob as I remembered that he had even seen me at my weakest point; stripped bare and bloody. He had held me as I convulsed and spewed blood over the two of us. I couldn't get over him, but I could do my best to try. Over the next few weeks I grew accustomed to being without him. I got up, went to work, and came home. That was my life now. I moved away from that valley in the woods. It was far too painful. I now lived in a cheap apartment complex in the city. I'm still as skinny as ever, however I have thankfully gained a few pounds. I cut my hair, so it hung in soft waves just past my shoulders. My eyes were the most notable change. They were dull, dim. They had a constant haunted quality about them, and after a few days in the city I started wearing brown contacts. I wanted nothing to do with that time I had lived in the woods. So I did my best to forget. I changed almost everything about how I looked, and even acted. I was quiet, and soft spoken. I never talked until someone talked to me first, and I did my best to blend in with people. No one paid attention to me and I was good at acting invisible. I could hide myself. It was the hardest at night. When I was alone with my thoughts and nothing to distract from the mind numbing pain. I would cry out for him, beg to be held. And every so often, a little trickle of blood would run past my lips as a gruesome reminder. Soon, months had past, yet I still longed for him. The nameless man with the wicked features. Work was dull. I worked at a publishing company. It was my job to edit the books that were pulled in by the big wigs. During the night I went to school, trying to earn my degree in Literature. My life was slow and average. I tried best to express those same attributes in my appearance. I was unapproachable and enclosed. No one talked to me, and I talked to no one in turn. It was misery. I tried coping. I was good at at. "Takeda." I turned in my desk chair to see my boss holding out the manuscript I had edited yesterday. "Yes?" He frowned, setting the manuscript on my desk, "You missed several mistakes on pages three and seven. I can't have you making any more mistakes, Takeda. You need to straighten your act." I nodded, chagrined. I never could focus. It was all thanks to that damned hallucination. Or man, whatever it was. "Sorry sir, I promise to try and fix it." Mr. Mauricio shook his head disparagingly and turned on the balls of his feet to walk back into his cushy office. I sighed and leaned back into my chair, closing my eyes and squeezing my temples. I needed to pull myself together. I leaned forward and a long held breath wheezed out of my lungs. I set my jaw and went back to correcting my mistakes. *** Nanao: The rest of the work day was torture. I got three new short stories to edit and one of them wasn't even all in English. So in short, today was hell. When leaving the office I locked the door behind me, as I was the last one there. I checked my cheap watch; it was nine pm. I groaned, trudging through the freezing parking garage. Goosebumps prickled my sensitive skin and I shivered; why did I chose to wear such a thin shirt in mid December? When I arrived next to my junker I found the door unlocked, and I frowned. Usually I was more cautious than that, seeing as how I worked in the middle of New York city. My car shuddered when I started it up, or tried to. Groaning, I turned my key three more times in vain. Shit. Today truly was a day from hell. Well, at least the college wasn't very far from here. I sighed and pulled my longish hair up into a messy bun. "Let's do this," I muttered to myself while taking the steps three at a time. I was short, but most of my minimal height was made up of my legs. My legs felt numb and I huffed while I walked down the lightly snowed sidewalks. My breath billowed out of my parted lips in a translucent fog, joining the cold still air. The streets were crowded, shivering bodies jostling and shoving each other to get to their destinations. I looked up, and could see no stars or the moon. The only light was the glow of the windows in the hulking buildings; the light pollution was far too great to allow any natural light. My entire body was quivering with cold and I lacked the body hair to keep me warm. So I walked faster, soon sprinting. I was only three or four blocks away, and I grinned in anticipation of the heat. The streets grew more and more crowded as I ran. Soon I could barely squeeze between the tall bodies, and I was desperate for warmth and I needed to get indoors before I became too claustrophobic. I was shoved forward and my knees connected with the ground. The harsh crack was lost in the noise and confusion, but I winced. At least I wasn't being trampled. A loafer covered foot made contact with my frail shoulder and I was slammed into the pavement. "Damn it," I muttered, standing, "that hurts like a bitch." I dusted myself off and glanced to my left, spying an alley that lead me closer to the college than if I kept walking. All I had to do was climb and jump the chain link fence. I hesitated, pausing at the entrance to the alley. Wasn't this dangerous? I shook myself, saying that nothing bad would happen. So I took a few steps into the derelict and cramped space littered with dumpsters. My blue hands clamped down on the fence. My fingers linked through the chain and I hefted myself up the wall of linked metal. I felt eyes on my back and I swiveled my head. A tall dark figure stood at the entrance of the alley. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the frozen metal. My heart raced and my breathing sped. I started climbing faster, but my boot clad foot slipped on ice frozen to the fence. I came tumbling down to the icy concrete and smashed my arm to the ground. I was sure I felt a snap in my arm, but I barely winced. I was used to pain, but the adrenaline really numbed it. My head rested on the ground and I breathed deeply. My head pounded where I had hit it and I saw two large black boots stepping in front of my widened eyes. I closed my eyes and pushed a breath out between my icy lips. This truly was the day from hell. I was lifted by the scruff of my neck and my heart sputtered to a halt. This was like something from a horror movie. The frail innocent looking girl walked into an alley and was brutally stabbed to death for no apparent reason. And then I realized, *I* was the girl. I quivered like a leaf caught in the wind and I stared into cold, dark eyes. A sinister smirk was plastered to his dark, russet colored face and I curled in on myself. I couldn't speak, couldn't move. I opened my mouth to scream, but all that came out was a croak. Before I knew what was happening I was flung violently into a dumpster. My aching arm slapped into the metal and I let out a scream. The loud sound was drowned out by the commotion of the street, and I laid on the cold grimy floor dragging in gasps of breath. "You're a little faggot aren't you," he sneered, kneeling next to my bleeding form, "I can see it." I couldn't speak but for little whimpers that spilled out of my lips. I just shook my head back and forth, hoping he would leave me to my misery. "Yeah you are," he grinned manically, "You even look like a girl. If you like dick so much, then why don't you take mine?" Horror, pure horror shot through my veins like the ice I was surrounded by. This was much worse than a gay bashing. I was about to be raped and there was nothing I could do about it. I squeezed my eyes shut and cried. I felt my pants being ripped open and my underwear being cut off of my body. I sobbed into the ground and struggled to move away. He gripped my waist and I was sure he left bruises where his fingers dug punishing marks into my body. Over the next hour I felt the most pain I had ever experienced in my life. A burning horrible agony ripped me in two, and there was nothing I could do but lay there and take it. I was left, broken and battered laying in the filthy alley. I cursed myself and sobbed, writhing on the icy ground. I could feel the cooling liquid leaking from the crack of my ass, and I wailed. I heard a panicked shout, and then a bunch more. I was being turned over and moved around, I was poked and prodded and examined until I cried out in anguish. Several comforting voices were murmured in my ear. They told me to hang on, to stay awake, that help was on it's a way. I blacked out moments later, with the sensation of being lifted the last thing I felt. *** Nanao: I woke several times in a daze, faces and objects blurring together. I couldnt hear words, but rather voices. Random tones rang out in my ears, muted and muffled. I passed out almost immediately after I woke. Multiple times I would freak out and gag on the tube in my throat, and a nurse had to come and sedate me. I was plagued by memories, both new and old. Images of my time in the woods flew behind my eyelids. Green eyes blinked in front of my face; taunting and beautiful. Then there was terror. Horrible pain and absolute fear shot through me like a bullet. I awoke, screaming and pleading into the nothingness of a dark hospital room. I writhed in my bed, soaking my sheets in a cold sweat. A nurse rushed in and I was put under once again. The anesthesia did nothing to keep my memories at bay, if anything they aided in my torture. I couldnt move, couldnt cry out as I was bombarded with image after image, words echoing in my mind. I was sure I was going insane. Valley of the Woods Ch. 03 Hey! I had finals this week, so I'm sorry if my work isn't stellar. It's not like anyone reads this stuff anyways so whatever. Fuck. Eh, I love it anyways. This is NOT a short jerk off at all. Its got FEELINGS and all that jazz. Fun. Ok, so this is a work of fiction, and I have made slight deviations from reality in parts. Ok? Ok. Let's start the story. *** Nanao: Over the next few weeks I was eased into consciousness. I learned that after that first week, I had been asleep for nearly three weeks in a medically induced coma. The swelling in my brain scared the doctor, so I was made to sleep. "Mr. Takeda," the doctor nodded to me as he walked in the room, "you should be good to leave in about a week. That is, if your seizures calm down to the normal rate." "Thank you," I muttered, grasping my blankets in my small fists. Dr. Silias came to stand next to my bed and smiled gently at me. He was an attractive man of about forty, with Indian features and a nice smile. "The police are here to get your statement. They showed up a week ago, but you were in no condition to answer any questions, so the staff turned them away," his eyes were kind as he said this, "I know this must be a very difficult time for you, so if you need, just ask to stop and they will. I also have taken the liberty to give you an alias for you to go under." I froze. Needless to say, i was anxious. Reliving the entire ordeal to people I barely knew...people who would judge me and not understand. Gay rapes are almost never reported. Reason being, lots of men are embarrassed and emasculated, or the entire case is dismissed as a lie. People aren't likely to believe it when a man (a gay man nonetheless) claims he is raped. I shuddered and started to hyperventilate. I needed to calm down, but it was a terrifying concept. If I had my way, I would have taken my chances at home. Yeah, that sounds stupid but I hate people looking at me in pity or judging me. "Nanao?" Mr. Silias asked in a concerned voice, "are you OK? Do you need a break?" "No," I gasped, "I can do this," my entire form shook and I tasted metal in the back of my throat. I gulped dryly and took three deep breaths before looking up at Dr. Silias once more. The doctor nodded understandingly and spoke, "I'll let them in then." I watched with fearful eyes as he opened the door and let the detectives in. The moment they walked through I shot up like a rocket, fear and shock flowing through my veins freely. There were three detectives, the first one short and dark, with small eyes and thin lips. The second man looked downright bored, his scrawny mousy features looked sharp and mean. It was the third man that caught my eye. Standing tall at around six foot three, his striking green eyes were unmistakable. His chocolate hair was longer now, sweeping around his strong, sharp jawline. His full lips were as tantalizing as ever, and I struggled to breathe. His eyes showed no signs of recognition, and I felt my heart momentarily plunge into my stomach with disappointment. I then realized that it was a good thing he DIDN'T recognize me. It would have made this much more difficult. But that didnt mean I didn't ache at the sight of him. *** Vampire: The boy was small and thin, his eyes wide with terror from the moment we stepped into the room. I set foot into the room and he shot up in his bed, clutching his sheets for dear life. It was confusing, especially when I saw the glint of recognition in his dark brown eyes. My thoughts flashed back to a year ago, the day I met Nanao Takeda. My heart soared with hope momentarily, and I flipped open his file. I scanned the page for a name; Tanner Worren. Bitter disappointment flowed through me and I realized they didn't look as much alike as I had thought. Nanao was more emaciated, with wide blue eyes and longer black hair. This boy had his longish black hair tied into a bun that spilled into his face and brown eyes. He was thin, small and slightly malnourished, but not like Nanao had been. I realized I had been drilling a hole in him with my eyes, and he looked just about ready to cry. Lonnie placed a nicotine yellowed hand on my arm and raised his pale eyebrow at me. Shaking my head, I buried my nose in his file while Lonnie and Cory made small talk with the kid to try and loosen him up. So far, he seemed very tightly strung. My fingers flipped over to his profile. He was twenty years old, and my eyebrows shot up while I looked between the boy and his age. He looked sixteen at most, but in reality he was only five years younger than me. Wow. He worked at a publishing firm, and went to a small liberal arts school at night. He owned a small flat in the city and lived alone. I looked up from the paper and noticed he seemed just as terrified as before. Lonnie and Cory were at a loss and stared at me for help. Nodding to them, I pulled up a spinny chair from the desk and sat, gesturing for the other two to leave. After they exited the room I pulled up next to Tanner's bed and leaned forward, trying to hold eye contact. "So," I started softly, "can you tell me any of what happened?" He started tearing up and I felt a ping in my chest, which was odd, because it goes against my beliefs to become emotionally connected with a victim. Makes the entire process more difficult than it has to be. His frail hands shook as he started to explain how his car had died after he had gotten of work that day, and he decided to walk. "It wasn't very far," he rationalized shakily, "just a few blocks. I thought I could still make it on time. It got really crowded and I fell. I got up and saw an alley that could take me almost directly there, so I decided to try and jump the fence at the end of the alleyway. I knew it wasn't a good idea," he seemed to get annoyed with himself as he spoke, "but I went anyways. Stupid, right? I got to the end, and I started climbing. The one thing that I really remember," he said with a bemused expression on his face, " is how damned cold my hands were. They were a light shade of blue and they got even colder as I reached the top. I felt someone come up behind me and I turned, realized what was going on and tried to climb faster. But it was just my luck," he laughed bitterly, "that I fell flat on my ass and he was able to get to me. I honestly wasn't sure what his motive was, ya know? Didn't know what he was going to do to me. After he threw me into a dumpster, I got this," he pointed to his broken nose and black eyes, "but I'm pretty sure I got this one when I fell the first time," he waved his broken arm gingerly and opened his mouth to speak again, "I heard him ask me if I was a faggot, and I just shook my head in hopes he would just leave me alone. However, if that was the case, I wouldn't be here right now. He said," Tanner gulped and a tear slid down his cheek, "he asked me if I liked dick so much, then taking his wouldn't be much of a problem, would it? Or something like that." He gazed at me pleadingly, "I have to go into detail for that part do I?" "No, you don't, but I do need at least an idea of what happened," I explained, and he looked so relieved that he leaned back in his bed with a sigh. "OK," he began again, "so after he said all that, he uh...he ripped open my pants and underwear. Then he...he pinned me down and raped me. He didn't use a condom. I didn't tell the doctors because its...embarrassing," he was blushing down to his neck and his chest heaved. I felt sick, but I tried to keep a professional front. "I need you to try and give me a description of the assailant," I requested briskly, "I would also suggest getting tested for any possible STD's you may have contracted if they haven't already done that." He nodded, twisting his fingers in his hair. My chest felt tight; that was what Nanao used to do. It seemed that every little thing I did, I couldnt help but think of my little blue eyed Nanao. "He...he wore large black work boots," Tanner stuttered, "his hair was long and in dreads, with dark russet skin and nearly black eyes." "Was he tall, short or...?" "Tall," Tanner bowed his head a little, almost as if he was ashamed, "very tall. Probably about six foot four or something..." I softened my tone and features, he was obviously distressed and confused, "Is there anything else about him you can remember? Something we can use to possibly ID him or help narrow the search?" "Yeah, yeah there is," Tanner sat up straighter and pulled his hair back into a tighter bun, "he had a large tattoo covering most of his neck. It was of a naked woman, with long hair and really...uh...really large breasts..." Tanner blushed and ducked his head. God he looked so much like Nanao when he did that... "Oh!" He projected loudly, "he had a teardrop tattoo under his left eye and his right eye was slightly lazy." I nodded, jotting his every word on to my crowded sheet of paper. Finally, after about five minutes of writing down his physical description I stood. Tanner seemed hesitant, as if he didnt know how to proceed. I smiled, leaned over and took his small pale hand in my larger one. "Thank you," I shook his hand and tired to let go, but he gripped mine for a few moments longer than necessary. Standing awkwardly, I nodded in his direction and turned to leave, "we'll get back to you if there are any updates on the case Nanao," I froze with my hand on the doorknob. Fuck. "Uh, uhm..." he sputtered, "I uh..thats um... not my name..." He trailed off and I turned. He looked flustered and unsure. That struck me as odd; it seemed a bit much for a small case of mistaken identity. The one thing that really struck out to me, was the bright blush creeping along his cheeks just like that man I thought he was had done. "I know," I smiled softly, realizing my fantasies were too good to be true, "Nanao was someone very special to me. I still love him." Tanner had tears streaming down his face when he spoke, "thats so...sweet. Thank you Detective...?" "Blithe. Adrian Blithe." And with that I turned and left the room.I shut the wooden door with a soft click, and turned to find the doctor staring at me. That was odd. It wasn't a regular stare either, it was vaguely disapproving and almost...mad. I watched slightly slack jawed as the doctor approached me with a determined and confident gait. My muddled brain snapped to attention and I straightened my back, trying desperately to appear put together. "Is everything alright?" I questioned, honestly curious of his blatant and immediate dislike of me. "His heartbeat was going crazy back there," the doctor pursed his lips, "any ideas why, detective?" "Well, Doc, the poor kid was just raped, and then nearly drilled to the wall being interrogated. No, I can't see any reason why." I flushed; instantly chagrined. My sarcasm fucked me in the ass sometimes. To my utmost shock, the doctor cracked a smile and a small chuckle spilled from between his tanned lips. He reached out a dark hand and enfolded my own within its grasp. "I had a feeling we would get along, Detective Blithe. Now," he nodded graciously at a passing nurse, who proceeded to giggle and scurry away, "is there anything I can do to help the investigation?" "Actually, yes," I realized, "I need to know about any preexisting conditions, and also any illnesses he possesses. If possible," I tacked on at the end, hoping to sound less demanding. Honestly, I really needed to quit doing stuff like that. It made me seem weak. Or perhaps, it made me seem trustworthy, after all the doctor seemed to brighten considerably at my obvious attempt to appear polite. "Follow me," he instructed with a small, lingering smile. We walked in silence for what felt like eons. What should have been a grim and depressing atmosphere was surprisingly bubbly. The nurses smiled and chatted with each other, occasionally pausing to grin widely at a patient before resuming an animated conversation with their colleague. As a child, I hated hospitals. The death that drifted through the hallways in a cold gust always seemed to seep underneath my skin to chill my bones. I could hear people wailing, screaming as they finally understood the meaning of true loss. I shuddered, remembering a woman, with hair like a flame. Her eyes were lifeless, dead and fish like. Until they landed on me. She shrieked, her eyes lighting with hysteria and she flung herself forward at me. "No," I muttered under my breath. I pushed aside the memories and shifted my eyes in front of me, as the doctor with the kind green eyes opened a door for me. I nodded my thanks; my voice was still caught in my throat. He sat behind a desk and smiled pleasantly. "So," I croaked, "uh, if I could ask you a few questions about any disorders, illnesses, or diseases he may have possessed at the time of the rape," my voice became steadily stronger as I spoke, and I was filled with a sudden urge to know everything about this kid that I could. Which honestly shocked me; there had been no one after Nanao. Sure, I had gotten hit on by plenty of men and women alike but I never chose to act on those advances. I never felt the pull with anyone other than him. Until now I guess. Dr. Silias sighed and leaned forward in his seat. He adjusted his horn rimmed glasses up farther on his nose. His eyes seemed to grow tired, and his face appeared to age years in a span of seconds. I gazed at him in wonder and his eyes bored deep into my soul, seeming to search me for something I was unaware of. "This is the part I hate," he rubbed his temples and spoke professionally, "Tanner has a rare form of epilepsy, one that doesn't improve with one or two treatments of medication. As well as this, he has issues with the blood and lining of his stomach, which causes him to vomit blood when his body seizes. This can be excruciatingly painful for him, and at times he can even lose short term memories." I sallowed dryly and tried to comprehend what I was just told. Everything reminded me far too strongly of Nanao. I pulled myself together and struggled to act in an eloquent manner. "Do you think that his epilepsy may have had any significance during this situation? In other words; did it impact the situation in a way that would have been absent if he didnt have epilepsy? "Yes," the doctor stated simply, "people who suffer from epilepsy are often in a constant weakened state. The strain from the seizures can be very taxing on the body. I would say that Tanner has the physical strength of an anorexic sixteen year old kid." It made perfect sense. One could say that Tanner was the perfect target. Small, weakened, and trapped in an in closed space. It made me immediately suspicious. The fact that he was gay also wouldn't help his case. Homophobes were everywhere, and his attacker could argue that it was just kinky consensual sex. I snorted. In my line if work, I had seen just about everything. There was no way anyone could say this WASN'T a rape. His physical wounds, as well as emotional ones were evidence enough in my book. However, we still had to find the culprit, and hope this wouldn't turn into multiple people in Tanner's shoes. I stood, leaning over to grasp Dr. Silias' hand briefly. "Thank you for your cooperation, it is very much appreciated. I should be back within the week." I tuned and strode out of his office. While walking past Tanner's room, I heard I high pitched scream of pain, and I burst open the door to find Tanner convulsing and twisting himself up in his sheets. I immediately dashed to his side and tried to remember everything I had been taught about seizures. Loosen any tight clothing, especially around the neck. I quickly unwrapped the still thrashing and wailing boy. His hospital gown had ridden up to mid thigh, and the tie around his neck was becoming an issue. I gulped, untying the top string of his dressings and he gasped in air through his shuddering jaws. I remembered something about lifting his head in case of him vomiting, so he could breathe. My hand darted out to draw the nearest trash can close. His long dark hair spilled out of its bun and stuck to his sweat drenched face. A few strands were tangled into his gaping mouth, and I moved them to the side while holding his head up. Tanner opened his eyes, and I thought I saw a flash of blue right above his iris but dismissed it when he heaved and spewed blood from between his lips. It was violent; a torrent of crimson sorrow flowing freely from his frantically moving lips. He coughed, sputtered twice, and drooped back into the pillow. I sat there, stroking his damp hair and cleaning his sleeping face and chest with a wet washcloth. While I did so, I realized a good amount of the blood had sprayed on my hands and arms, making me look like a serial killer. Tanner had blood splashed across his alabaster face, and his plump lips were dyed red with his misery. I stood abruptly when the shock wore off and I realized that I was standing in front of the most delicious banquet one could imagine.