Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5692237.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Gundam_Wing
  Relationship:
      Duo_Maxwell/Heero_Yuy, Duo_Maxwell/Quatre_Raberba_Winner
  Additional Tags:
      BDSM, Graphic
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-01-11 Chapters: 5/? Words: 74693
****** Violence + Sex =Love ******
by Shinigamiinochi
Summary
     Trying to move on from the violent trauma of his childhood, Duo
     enters public high school for the first time in hopes that he will
     make friends and carve a future for himself. Instead, he finds
     himself the prey of two perverse brothers. Ensnared in their sexual
     games, can Duo find a way to save himself? Or does he even want to?
***** Prologue Part 1 *****
Violence + Sex = Love (Remake)

Warnings: I really hate having to write a sort of trigger warning for this fic,
but I'm an author who apparently writes a lot of content that some people find
offensive and disgusting, so it's become necessary. This story, especially, has
gotten some nasty reviews over the years, so in the hope to bypass all that,
I'm writing up this warning. First off, I do not condone rape or child abuse.
However, I am an adult who can tell the difference between fantasy and reality
and occasionally writes erotica rape or forced fiction. This story is a bit
different from other things that I've written in that it focuses on a
relationship that starts out as rape and ends up as consensual. Obviously, I
don't condone such relationships, but this story isn't meant to be preachy or
teach a lesson about rape survivors and abusive relationships. Nor does it
flinch away from the fact that these are abusive relationships. Not only that,
this story features BDSM very heavily. It has sex acts that may disturb some
people (no gore or bathroom stuff, I promise). S+M, pet play, master/slave
stuff, sexual torture, cross-dressing, and poly pairings. If that bothers
anyone, I highly suggest not reading this, but it's prominent through the
entire story.

Pairings are all over the place in this story, but the main ones are 1x2 and
4x2. There are some bastardized characters, lots of angst, OOC, child abuse,
and religious components that might squick out some individuals.


Prologue: Part 1



    It seemed like a bitter thing, Father Maxwell thought, that the lights
coming from the bar across from his little church lit up the tiny, stained
glass windows better than the morning sun ever could. The bar, which was taller
than the church, would block the rising sun, as it always did, but it’s neon
red, yellow, and blue lights cast the virgin Mary in a bright, blue glow and
the angel Gabriel in yellow and red, making Him look like He was on fire.
Father Maxwell couldn’t see out the little windows, which was just as well.
There wasn’t anything pleasant to see out there, especially in the dead of
night. Still, he knew, by habit alone, that drunken husbands would be stumbling
out of the bar hourly. Standing outside the bar would be a young woman, barely
dressed at all. It was always a different woman, but in a way, always the same.
There would be a group of younger men leaning near the doorway of his church.
He had given up telling them to go away years ago, knowing that they would
never listen to an old man, especially a priest.
    The life of a priest was repetitive, in more ways than just mass and
confession. Once again, Father Maxwell found himself wide awake in the middle
of the night like this, sitting on one of the pews near the alter, pouring over
the church’s monetary statements. He knew he should be doing work like this in
his office, but this place was more open, less stuffy, and he could just barely
smell lemon from the cleaner that Sister Helen had used this afternoon. It was
a silly thing to think about, but that smell made the old church seem more like
a home. Maybe most priests wouldn’t be too concerned with a thing like that,
but St. Angeline was his home, had been for the last thirty years and was also
an orphanage housing no less than twenty orphans at one time. Little, domestic
things were just as important as anything else.
    Most of the orphans they cared for had come from broken homes, or from the
streets. They were more likely to run away for some frivolous reason than to
stay, especially in a church turned orphanage. These children were used to
adults betraying them, having to live on their own and support themselves.
Adoption just sounded like more of the same to them. Or worse, they wouldn’t be
adopted and they would chained down by ‘the system’ until they turned eighteen,
then they would just go back to the streets anyway. They were practically
looking for an excuse to leave, so Father Maxwell tried his hardest to be
lenient and make this house of God into a stable environment for the children.
    The grey-haired priest was roused from his thoughts by a sharp banging
sound. He quickly realized that someone was knocking on the front door of the
church and rose to his feet, putting his papers on the pew. The center room of
the church he was in was large and made entirely of wood, making the sound
echo. He looked briefly down on the cheap watch he wore. 1:30 A.M. What could
anyone want from them at this hour? This wasn’t the best of neighborhoods. They
had never had any trouble, though there were a few gangs around, many of them
were members of this very church and kept more trouble away from them than they
brought. Still, he was hesitant to open the door as he walked out into the hall
and approached it, but the banging only increased in volume and intensity. At
first, he was worried that the violent knocking would wake Sister Helen and the
children upstairs, then, as the knocking grew more and more frantic, he
realized that this was a much more serious matter.
    Father Maxwell opened the heavy, wooden door and could only gape at what
the night had put on his doorstep. A boy, no older than thirteen, stood there
shaking, his dirty blonde hair plastered to his dirty face by the rain that the
Father hadn’t even realized had started. The boy was painfully thin and the
state of his torn clothes screamed ‘street’ to the man that had seen many of
these boys in his lifetime. He held in his arms another child, though Maxwell
was only able to tell because of the brown hair that poked out of the blanket
the little thing was wrapped in. The older boy’s shirt, it seemed, had been a
dusky blue once, but now it was impossible to really tell with the blood that
was soaked into it. On the left shoulder and stomach of the shirt, there were
clear bullet wounds. The boy’s cheek had a reddish tinge to it, but Maxwell
couldn’t tell if it was blood because of the rain. The boy’s dark green eyes
had a hint of madness to them, a mix of terror and intense pain.
    “Please…” the boy choked out and the priest could see that there was blood
dripping from the side of his mouth.
    ‘Internal bleeding,’ Maxwell thought in complete shock.
    He quickly moved to the side and the blonde stumbled into his church, blood
dripping onto the recently cleaned floors, not in little drips, but in rivers.
    “Oh, God,” Maxwell whispered as the blood told him what the rain was trying
to hide.
    In the blonde’s arms, the little child clung to the older one, hiding his
face from the man.
    “Help,” the older one pleaded, then fell to his knees, a huge pool of blood
forming under him.
    Maxwell tore his gaze from the wounded boy and ran the couple of feet to
the steps.
    “Helen!” he shrieked and didn’t wait to hear if he had woken her, turning
back to the two children.
    The priest ripped a curtain off a nearby window and tried to use it to stop
the bleeding, even though he knew it was useless, not with the hole in the
boy’s stomach. The younger child, a boy, finally let go of his friend and sat
in the blanket that was covering him, watching everything that was going on,
but not saying a word. Maxwell felt sick with the size of the hole in the
blonde’s stomach, it was almost gaping, as though he had been shot with a land
mine instead of a bullet. Maxwell knew that there was a word for that kind of
ammo, but couldn’t think of anything. He heard people coming down the stairs,
but could only focus on the blood pouring out of the boy, staining his hands.
The blonde’s eyes were closed, but the priest refused to accept that he was
doing anything except sleeping.    
    “Oh, my God!” Sister Helen gasped as she ran down the stairs to a sight
that, little did she know, would haunt her for the rest of her life.
    Maxwell finally acknowledged her, seeing that one of the older boys had
followed her down.
    “Call an ambulance!” he barked him.
    The teenager, bless him, gave the priest a little nod and then ran full
speed to find a phone. Sister Helen had to force herself to look away from the
gory scene and focus on the younger boy, whom nobody was paying any attention
to. The green, bloody blanket hung around his little shoulders, the boy
couldn’t be any older than six or seven, and his chestnut hair was stained with
blood in a few places. His skin was pale, and Helen couldn’t tell if it was
from shock or natural. His eyes were large and haunted as he watched the priest
with the other boy. The nun was briefly entranced by the strange mix of blue
and violet that was the boy’s eye color, like a mating of a twilight sky and
amethyst. His tiny hands, clutching tightly on his blanket, shook almost
violently and Helen realized in revulsion that he wasn’t looking at the wounded
boy, but at the puddles of blood on the floor. It hit her like a tidal wave,
that she was standing there doing nothing as the little boy watched his dying
friend.
    Sister Helen knelt in front of the frightened child, blocking his view of
the bloody scene.
    “What’s your name, sweetie?” she asked in the gentlest voice she could
muster.
    Those wide, horrified eyes fell on her and for a moment, she thought that
the boy was going to faint. She hated the look of fear there when he looked at
her.
    “D… Duo…” the boy said in a voice so tiny, it was almost inaudible.
    “Duo, that’s a darling name,” Helen encouraged him with a smile, but the
boy seemed to shrink further into his jacket.
    Helen swallowed roughly, trying not to be daunted by the large smear of
blood across his face, realizing sickly that she didn’t know whose blood it
was, Duo’s, the older boy’s, or someone else’s. She put a hand on his shoulder
and was alarmed at the amount of fear he displayed at the little touch.
    “Duo, why don’t we get you a bath, huh?” she tried to convince him to get
far away from what she was sure was going to be a murder scene, “You look so
cold…”
    And he did, but the little brunette shook his head violently, his blue-
violet eyes darting to the side, as though he could see his friend around her.
    “Solo…” he cried out in alarm.
    Maxwell let out a sigh of slight relief as the blonde’s eyes slid open,
though just barely.
    “Teddy…” the injured boy murmured, “You gotta… gotta go with her… ‘k,
buddy?”
    Duo didn’t make a sound, but when Helen lifted him into her arms, he didn’t
fight her. He wrapped his arms around her neck and buried his face into her
shoulder.
    “Get him out of here,” Maxwell said.
    Helen gave him a little nod and hurried back up the steps, holding Duo
close to her.
    “Take care of him…” Solo murmured, his eyes starting to droop closed again.
    Maxwell vainly tried to put more pressure on the wound on the boy’s
stomach, but with the amount of blood staining Solo’s shirt, the priest knew
that the boy had either a wound that was too serious to fix, or he had been
bleeding for too long.
    “Everything’s going to be fine,” he tried to assure the adolescent.
    Solo snorted in a parody of a laugh, blood bubbling between his lips.
    “Good one… old man,” he gasped out, his eyes closing.

*****

    
    Duo’s body, lighter in Helen’s experience than most his age, was lifeless
and still as she carried him into the bathroom. She worried that he might be
hurt, too, but when she put him down, he sat on the tiled floor and looked up
at her with cleared eyes, still afraid, but a little bit less. That fear edged
off even more as Helen started to fill the tub with hot water. Duo was so
quiet, so still, just taking in his surroundings like a skittish deer, it was
unnatural for a boy his age. Sister Helen smiled at him kindly, hoping that his
silence was just because of shock and the more that she talked to him, the more
he would come back to himself.
    “You’re very well behaved,” she complimented, “We have a little boy your
age here. His name is Timmy. He hates taking baths. Every night, he hides and
when we finally find him, he acts like we’re trying to punish him.”
    Duo continued to look at the tub and Helen would swear that the look he had
was longing, though for what was impossible to tell.
    “I like it when Mommy gives me baths,” he murmured, his voice still small
and insignificant.
    Helen’s smile grew as she started to take off Duo’s clothes, glad that the
brunette wasn’t fussy with her undressing him. Almost all of the children that
came to their orphanage had lost both of their parents in some way, or the
parents had just taken off. It was a welcome change, hearing Duo talk about his
mother. She lost her smile as she finally got his pants and long-sleeved shirt
off of him. Duo was thin, not thin enough to be a street kid, but too thin for
a boy that was being properly cared for. On his pale, almost snowy white, skin
were dark bruises on his wrists, collar bone, and stomach. She had been dealing
with children from broken homes long enough to know the difference between
bruises from falling off of trees and abuse. With how Duo had talked about his
mother, she wanted to say that the woman wasn’t responsible for those deep
looking bruises, but she knew that love and pain weren’t always separate.
    She lifted Duo and put him in the tub. The indefinable tension that the
child had been displaying seemed to vanish at the feeling of the warm water.
Taking a sponge, Helen soaked his hair, trying to get the blood off the sun-
kissed, chestnut locks.
    “Where is your mommy, Duo?” she asked, “If we know where she is, we can get
you home.”
    She got rid of most of the blood and parted his hair at his neck to see if
there was anymore. Her hand froze as it revealed a large spot on his neck
covered in dry blood. Across his thin neck, in a downward, diagonal slash, was
a deep cut that only could have been made with a large knife. To her relief, it
didn’t look like it was bleeding anymore, but it still looked horrible.     
    ‘God,’ she thought in shock, ’Who would do such a thing?’
    There weren’t any other cuts on the boy’s body, which begged the question
of why he had a cut in such a strange place. To hide it? But the wound was
deep, deep enough that it made it look like whoever had done it hadn’t done it
just to hurt him. A few inches deeper, and Helen believed Duo would be dead by
now. It would definitely need stitches.
    “Daddy cut her lots,” Duo informed the nun, his voice as tiny and blank as
always, though there was some emotion to it that disturbed Helen, even though
she couldn’t put a name to it.
    The redheaded woman felt her entire being freeze at the dark words coming
out of the innocent child. She found her blue eyes staring, transfixed, at the
cut on the back of his neck, easily imagining the kind of knife that could do
that kind of damage. The kind of knife that, she had no doubt, had cut through
his mother’s body. Oh, God… was she even alive? And had this poor little boy
been there to see it, or had he just found her? There were some things in this
world that she could never understand. She had accepted that as a young
teenager, but at the very core of herself, she was an optimist. She believed in
people, in their goodness. She didn’t think that a woman could become a nun or
any other person of faith without that quality. But things like this… she
couldn’t even comprehend them. In taking care of children, she had to, but in
moments like this, it seemed beyond her.
    “I… I’m sure your mommy is still alive, Duo,” Helen tried to assure the
boy, but the words sounded hollow and unconvincing even to her, “And we’ll help
her, just like we helped you.”
    She doubted it. The cut on Duo’s neck, the gun wounds on the boy
downstairs… she was sure that Duo’s mother was dead, or by the time they
reached her, she would be. She didn’t want to believe that. She wanted to
believe that this night would turn out to be just a bad dream, for the both of
them, that the child downstairs would be saved and Duo was mistaken about his
mother.
    “No…” the child said, looking down into the water, “She’s dead. Solo says
that being dead is when people can’t get up anymore, and no matter what, you
can’t ever see them again. Mommy wouldn’t get up, even when I screamed and
screamed.”
    Tears pricked Helen’s pale blue eyes and she had to squeeze them shut for a
moment to keep them from falling. She wouldn’t fall apart in front of Duo when
he clearly needed her. Duo’s mother was a stranger to her and Duo, on the
outside, seemed calm about the whole thing, but she knew better. She saw the
pain in his violet eyes, a pain that was sharper and more agonizing than any
adult’s she had ever seen. Those eyes were dry, but Helen knew that, deep in
his soul, Duo was sobbing. Even if he was too young to really understand what
death was, somewhere, he knew. It was like he said, he would never be seeing
his mommy again. She buried her face in his hair for a moment, then collected
herself again.
    “Solo?” she asked, resuming her cleaning with a burdened heart, “Is that
the boy that brought you here?”
    Duo nodded.
    “Solo lives Outside,” Duo said the word like it was important and Helen
easily translated it into Solo being a street kid, “We play sometimes. Mommy
knows. She makes him sandwiches sometimes. It was our special secret. If Daddy
finds out, he’ll be mad.”
    The way that Duo talked about his mother, in the present tense, made the
nun feel truly horrible. It just drove home to her that the little boy didn’t
really know what had happened, or he was trying to deny it. She lightly touched
one of the bruises on Duo’s shoulder.
    “Did your Daddy hurt you?” she asked lightly, treading on the subject
carefully.
    She knew, too well, that the love a child had for their parents rivaled the
love of God. What was that saying? Oh, yes… ‘Mother is God in the eyes of a
child.’ Duo’s ‘God’ was dead, in a way that was truly terrible, but he spoke of
his father without hate. When Duo was older, he probably would hate the man,
but deep inside, he would always love him. That was why Helen couldn’t stand
dealing with abused children. It would be much easier if they hated the people
who hurt them, but the world wasn’t so black and white and it definitely wasn’t
easy. Duo nodded to her question.
    “Daddy gets mad sometimes,” he told her, “Mommy said that he wouldn’t hurt
me anymore, but he hurt her, so she couldn’t promise anymore.”
    Helen closed her eyes again. It was so easy to piece together, too easy,
almost like a cliché. Duo’s father had hurt him and his mother, so his mother,
a woman that Helen was starting to admire by the minute, had tried to run away
with Duo. But his father had caught them and had killed her. He had probably
tried to kill his son, too. Maybe that was where Solo had come in. If he lived
‘Outside’, maybe that meant near Duo’s house. He had heard the screaming and
had interfered… she shook her head. He had given his life to get Duo somewhere
safe. It made her hate some of their parishioners, the ones that gave money to
them every Sunday and called themselves ’good Christians’, but showed disdain
towards their orphans, thinking them dirty and uncultured, yet one of those
’less fortunate’ was dying in their own church right now, having given the
ultimate sacrifice…  
     Sister Helen wrapped the little boy in a towel, the air in the small
bathroom heavy and sad. Her thoughts went around in circles in her head,
threatening to drive her mad and she couldn’t even begin to imagine what Duo
was thinking and feeling right now. In her thoughts, she prayed to God that
Duo’s mother was still alive, or that he had other family that would take care
of him and help him understand what had happened. A light knocking on the
bathroom door roused her and she stood to answer it. Duo didn’t move or protest
her leaving, seeming content to just sit there on the bathroom floor and
burying himself further into the towel, reminding Helen of a hermit crab that
sensed a predator around. His constant hiding and meekness worried her. The boy
who called for the ambulance was standing outside of the bathroom, looking
nervous and very uncomfortable.
    “The police are on their way, Sister,” he said, rubbing on his arm and not
meeting her eyes.
    She smiled down at him.
    “Thank you, Kevin,” she said.
    Kevin gave her a brief nod, then quickly walked to his room. Sister Helen
didn’t fault him for his anxiety and hesitance. Kevin was a good boy, one of
the few that wasn’t rambunctious or acted out. He was one of their… well, she
hated to use the word ‘failures’, but that was what his case was, though it
reflected worse on her and Father Maxwell than Kevin. The tall, brunette
teenager had come to them ten years ago right off the streets, having been
arrested for shoplifting. Since then, they hadn’t been able to place him in a
single home. The potential parents always brought him back, complaining that he
was too timid, too quiet. Adults seemed to think that if a child of that age
wasn’t screaming and running around, then there was something wrong with them.
    Now, Kevin was seventeen years old, would be eighteen in just under a year.
At that time, he wouldn’t be able to live here anymore. As much as she would
love to just keep him here, out of affection and sympathy for him, they didn’t
have the money to feed or cloth him without the pitiful government grants they
received for the orphans under their care. It saddened her every time she
thought about it. Kevin was kind, smart, and respectful, even to the younger
orphans. He didn’t bully them or take his anger out on them like some of the
other boys that lived in the church. It might seem strange, then, that such a
well mannered boy like him was afraid of the police, but Helen understood that
it was a fear that all street kids shared.
    Children without homes and parents had to live on their own and do whatever
it took to survive. By their nature, they had to break the law. And the police
seemed to have little kindness towards them, seeing them simply as
troublemakers. Kevin probably feared them because he knew that his time was
coming up. She doubted that he thought they were going to take him away, but
the fear was there. The other children would come and watch the goings on
downstairs out of curiosity, but once the police showed up, they would scatter.
They would do what they had done for most of their lives: run and hide in some
dark corner that no adult could get into. They would come out eventually, when
breakfast came, no doubt.
    Helen dug through the drawers under the bathroom sink, trying to find
clothes that would fit Duo. She always kept extras for the smaller boys, who
liked to splash around or fight a bath, getting their clothes thoroughly soaked
in the process. There was no way she was redressing Duo in those bloody clothes
of his. Duo’s eyes were on her the entire time, as though he were afraid that,
if he looked away for even a second, she would vanish. She felt that twinge of
worry again, but brushed it aside. She knelt down in front of him, clothes in
hand.
    “Do you know how to dress yourself?” she asked, not expecting him to know
how, but wanting to get him to speak up.
    To her surprise, Duo nodded.
    “Mommy taught me how,” he murmured.
    Helen smiled fondly at him. It wasn’t right, and it was a dangerous thing,
but she already was feeling attached the soft spoken, but intelligent little
boy. She lightly touched his chestnut hair, fighting the urge to kiss his
forehead. Taking care of the hundreds of orphans she had met in her ten years
at this church had made her maternal instinct grow a mile wide.
    “Alright, then. I have to go down and talk to Father Maxwell. He’s the man
you met, the one with the grey hair,” she told him and Duo nodded in
remembrance, “You’ll stay here, won’t you?”
    Duo nodded again, taking the clothes from her and Helen was sure that he
would stay. In a way, he was just like Kevin. Silent, but always did what he
was told. She didn’t know if that was a good thing in this case, if Duo was
always like that, or if it was because of his father’s abuse. She left him,
more worried than she had been in a good long time. She was glad to see that,
when she reached the entrance of the church down the steps, no other orphans
had gone down to see what was going on. Her stomach sank to her gut and tears
filled her eyes as she saw Father Maxwell sitting on the bench next to the
door, no longer at the wounded boy’s side, trying to stop the blood. It was
obvious why. She could see a form covered by one of the drapes, no longer
green, but a rust-colored red, an enormous pool of blood underneath it.
    “Is he…” she asked cautiously, even though she knew the answer.
    Father Maxwell looked up at her, his brown eyes haunted, making him look
older than she ever remembered him looking before. He nodded.
    “He went shortly after you went upstairs,” Maxwell said, subdued, “The
police will be here to question us in a few minutes.”    
    Helen bent her head, slipping her fingers together and folding her hands as
she prayed for the dead boy, who had given everything for another, not even his
own family.
    “How is the little one?” Maxwell interrupted the nun.    
    She looked up at him with blue eyes as haunted and old as his, those she
didn’t even realize it.
    “Duo,” she reminded him, “He’s quiet. Very quiet. He did manage to tell me
that he saw his father… he saw him kill his mother.”
    Maxwell glanced at the sheet covered body on the floor, putting the pieces
together far too easily. What he wouldn’t give for things like that to not come
to him so quickly, to have some measure of obliviousness. He sighed heavily and
buried his face in his hands. Was there no limit to evil in the world? For a
man to kill his wife, in front of his child, no less? And to kill another, who
was only trying to help…
    “Oh, God,” he whispered, lifting his face to stare at the cross on the far
wall, “I asked for this. This area… I thought I could do some good,” Helen put
a hand on his, “I suppose every place in the world has its share of sadness,
but everyone here is so desperate, so lost. I asked to be placed here because I
knew it would be hard, because there were so many children here who are uncared
for, but there is such violence, such… senselessness…” he shook his head.
    The both of them jumped a little when someone knocked loudly on the door,
only a foot away from them. Maxwell rose and opened it, nodding to the two
policemen who stood there, their black uniforms wet with the still pounding
rain.
    “Father,” one of them greeted respectfully.
    Maxwell recognized the man outside of the uniform as one who went to their
mass regularly. He shook his hand.
    “Officers,” he beckoned them inside.
    The one policeman that he recognized noticed the body as they entered and,
to Maxwell’s relief, looked saddened by it, unlike his partner, whose
expression remained flat and professional.
    “This is the older one?” the first officer, Maxwell thought his name was
Brennen, asked.
    Maxwell nodded.
    “His name is Solo,” Helen interrupted, “The younger one is named Duo.”
    “Perhaps you could get him, Sister?” Maxwell said, “Let’s make this as
quick and painless for the boy as we can.”
    The blonde nun nodded and hurried up the stairs. Brennen breathed in relief
as she left. Maybe he was too traditional, but he hated having women around in
crime scenes like this. He wasn’t so old fashioned that he was prejudiced
around female cops, but a civilian like the Sister seeing something like this
made his stomach feel weak. He lifted the sheet off the boy and winced.
    “Damn,” he muttered, then felt ashamed for having sworn, not only in front
of his priest, but in the Church, “Sorry, Father.”
    Maxwell smiled at the officer, but it was sad and pained.
    “That’s quite alright, Officer, I think tonight both God and I are lenient
with such things,” he assured him.
    Brennen and the other cop examined the boy’s body with clinical eyes. His
shoulder and stomach were a mess of torn flesh and blood and Maxwell had to
look away in sickness. Brennen noted that the boy’s eyes were closed and knew
that, if the priest had done it, he should scold him for touching a crime
scene, but didn’t blame the religious man for that one ounce of respect.
    “Even if the other kid can’t tell us anything, it shouldn’t be too hard
figuring out who did this,” the other cop mentioned, “His wounds are too severe
for him to have walked very far, especially with a kid in his arms, and hollow-
points are easy to track, if he got them legally.”
    Brennen nodded, but felt doubt in his heart. He wasn’t sure where the
surety had come from, his gut, probably. After all these years of being a cop,
you just could feel a case. Sometimes, you knew you were going to catch your
guy and justice would be served. This time… he had this tight, anxious feeling
that this night would haunt him for a long time and the worst was yet to come.

*****

    Helen, given Duo’s silence and what he had told her, had expected to find
him exactly where she had left him, staring off at nothing. To her immense
relief, though he was still sitting on the same spot on the floor, in his hands
was a little plush starfish, only a little bit bigger than the little boy’s
hands, probably left in the bathroom by another child, and was fiddling with
it. He was still silent, but his blue-violet eyes looked a little bit brighter.
As she knelt down in front of him, he clenched the starfish tighter in his hand
and looked scared, as though he thought she was there to take the tiny plushie
away from him.
    “There are some men downstairs who want to talk to you about your mommy,
sweetheart,” she said softly and kindly, feeling like she was trying to coax a
mouse out of a hole in the wall, “Do you think you can tell them what you saw?”
    Duo looked away from her and down at the star fish. It was a sad, thread-
worn thing, like all the toys here at the orphanage, pale blue on the top with
sewn-on black dots for eyes. The underside had been white once, when they had
first bought it years ago, but was now dirty with soot and soil and who knew
what else. There were pale pink circles on the starfish’s ‘arms’, which Sister
Helen assumed were supposed to be suckers. As she talked to Duo, he
continuously squeezed the starfish, like a small child would a squeaky-toy, but
the plush made no sound, he seemed to simply like squeezing it.
    “You can bring that with you,” she suggested.
    Duo suddenly graced her with a tiny, adorable smile. It wasn’t much, but it
was the most since they had met. She reached her hand out to him. Duo cradled
the starfish to his chest with one hand and took the nun’s in the other,
following her out of the bathroom and down the steps as though he were
dreaming. As the two of them came down the stairs and into the front part of
the church, Duo glanced at the two uniformed men standing near the priest, his
eyes clearly avoiding the drape covered body. Helen wondered if Duo was doing
it subconsciously, or if the little boy actually realized what was under there.
A terrible sadness suddenly filled her. It was very possible that Duo’s mother
was dead. But worse, Duo believed that she was, and now his friend was dead,
too.
    Duo hid slightly behind her, peeking around her at the policemen. She
didn’t discourage him for his shyness, only patted the top of his head, hoping
that her affection would make him bolder, or at least relax him a little. As he
let go of her hand to clutch at her nightgown, Helen could feel him trembling
with fear. She knew what was going on, why he wasn’t as scared of her as he was
the men. Duo truly believed that he had lost his mother, so he was clinging to
the only other woman in his life that had shown him kindness, or so she
assumed. It was just human nature, but it made Helen wonder if she could really
give the boy what he needed.
    Brennen was the first one to approach the boy. He, like Helen, felt worry
and sympathy with the amount of fear Duo was showing. He knelt down in front of
the nun, examining the boy quickly. He definitely didn’t recognize the kid, but
that didn’t really mean anything besides that his family didn’t go to this
church. They might still live around here and his father might still have a
record. Deep down inside, Brennen thought of how much he hated cases like
these. He hated dealing with women and children who had been hurt or killed,
especially by their own families. He was a true family man. He had been married
to the same woman for thirty years and had two kids, a boy and girl, though
neither had been Duo’s age for quite some time.
    “Hey, there,” he said to Duo with an encouraging smile, sure not to smile
so big that his excitement would scare the little guy, but not so small that it
would seem insincere, “You must be Duo. I’m Officer Brennen.”
    Duo stared at the man for a moment and Helen worried that this might be too
much for him. Then, very slowly and tentatively, Duo seemed to realize that
Brennen wasn’t going to hurt him and let go of Helen’s nightgown to shake the
officer’s hand. The way that Brennen’s hand dwarfed Duo’s was nearly comical.
When they let go of each other, Duo finally stopped hiding behind the nun, but
still seemed nervous.
    “Do you know why I’m here, Duo?” Brennen asked gently, trying to get the
story out on the boy’s terms.
    Duo nodded.
    “Because of what happened to Mommy,” he whispered.
    “That’s right,” the cop nodded, “Can you tell me what happened to your
mommy? If we know what happened, we can help her.”
    “No one can help her,” Duo protested and for the first time, tears filled
his eyes, but they didn’t fall, “She’s dead. Daddy said so, and Solo, too.”
    Helen put her hand on Duo’s head, trying to soothe him, but his voice
sounded twisted, like he was holding back his pain. She had seen teenagers do
that, when they thought about the bad things in their pasts, but never from a
boy Duo’s age. If they were sad, they cried, angry, they screamed. They didn’t
hold back, didn’t even try to hide.
    “We can always try,” Brennen promised him, “And we can help you.”
    Duo chewed on his lip for a few seconds.    
    “Mommy got angry ‘cause Dad hit me lots,” Duo struggled to explain, “I
di’n’t like it neither ‘cause it hurt, but Mommy promised that Daddy wouldn’t
hit me no more. She said we were going on a vacation ‘n she’d make it all
better. I wanted to go. Mommy’s nice. She doesn’t hit or yell. I love Daddy,
but I don’t like it when he get’s mad like that. We were supposed to go on a
plane tonight. I’ve never been on a plane before, but Mommy said it would be
fun. But Daddy found out. He got angry. Really, really angry, more than he’s
ever been. He told Mommy that if she took me away from him, he was gonna kill
her. She said she didn’t care, she wanted to protect me.”
    From behind Brennen, Father Maxwell shook his head sadly. During his early
days as a priest, he had been a part of a community service that helped shelter
battered women and children and had heard this kind of story a thousand times.
A wife would live in silence as her husband abused her, but then he would go
too far and she would feel that there was nothing she could do but run away.
Usually, it was when their children were in danger that they got the courage to
leave their husbands or boyfriends. But… not all of them made it. Not all of
them got the chance to run away. He had taken confession from such men and
every time he did it, he felt an excruciatingly painful tug between his
religious duties and his moral ones. He had looked these men in the eye and had
heard their stories, but he still couldn’t understand how anyone could do such
a thing, let alone to a child.
    “Daddy stabbed her,” Duo whispered and a single tear tracked down his right
cheek.
    “Where did your Daddy stab your Mommy?” Brennen demanded.
    He knew better, but hope, a tiny, fragile thing, blossomed in his heart.
Maybe Duo had just thought his mother was dead because his dad had stabbed her.
Maybe it had just been a non-fatal wound and the poor woman was bleeding in
their house right now, but still alive. He knew that he shouldn’t hope. How
many times had he gotten cases like these, only to find the worst? But still,
after all these years, his job hadn’t quite beaten him down completely. Then,
Duo looked at him with a sad, horrified expression and something cold and sharp
settled in Brennen’s gut.
    “Everywhere,” the little boy whispered, putting emphasis on the word, “I
tried to help her…” he sniffed, “But Daddy cut me, too.”
    Duo touched the back of his neck where the deep cut was still stinging and
burning.
    “I fell asleep, but Solo woke me up. He said we had to go, that Daddy was
going to kill me. But Daddy wouldn’t do that!” Duo yelled, the first time his
voice had ever risen above a whisper, “He just… he wouldn’t…” more tears ran
down his cheeks, but his words lacked any conviction, as though he were trying
to convince himself, “I screamed and screamed at Mommy, but she didn’t wake up
like I did. Solo said it was because she died, that that’s why there was blood
everywhere. Dad came back ’n said it, too, that Mommy wasn’t gonna get up no
more. He said it was my fault, ’cause Mommy wanted to break up the family. He
shot Solo.”
    At this point, Duo seemed incapable of speech, his body doubled over as he
sobbed, tears pouring from his eyes. Helen made a pained noise and scooped him
up into her arms, rocking him as she sat on the floor.
    “Ssh,” she soothed, “It’s ok… everything is going to be fine now. Your
Daddy can’t hurt you or your Mommy anymore.”
    Her words didn’t seem to help Duo at all and he just clutched at her
clothing and cried harder.
    “I think that’s enough for now,” Maxwell urged, his heart hurting at the
little boy’s sorrow.
    “Can we get his last name, at least?” the other cop asked uncomfortably.
    Helen and Maxwell shared a look and she nodded. The nun whispered something
to Duo, but he shook his head vehemently, his face buried in her shoulder. She
shook her head at Brennen.
    “I think he’s scared to tell you,” she said quietly.
    To Helen’s relief, Brennen nodded in agreement.
    “It’s too soon,” he said, “I don’t want to make him more anxious. We should
have enough to find out who Duo’s father was or where they lived. Hollow point
bullets, even illegal ones, aren’t that common around here. They should be
simple to track down. We can ask around at the shelters in the area, find out
where Solo liked to hang out. Because of Duo’s eye color and his father’s
abuse, we should be able to find medical records, too. That will make things
easy.”
    “Then what?” Maxwell asked, “Duo’s young, a court might not accept his
version of events.”
    “Even if there is a doubt of who kil… who did this, Duo won’t go back to
his father,” the other cop assured them, “Hopefully, he has aunts or other
relatives that will take him. If not… he’ll probably end up here.”
    Helen tightened her arms around Duo, who seemed oblivious to what they were
saying, but she wouldn’t underestimate him, even as his cries were starting to
lessen. The last thing she wanted was for Duo to end up here. His father was a
brute and a murderer, but she didn’t feel any happier about them being
separated. Issues like these were so complicated. No matter what happened,
Duo’s family was broken and always would be. She would love to care for him, to
show him that he could still have a chance at happiness, but if he lived here,
it would just mean that no one else in the world who wanted him.
    “In the meantime, I think it’s best if he stays here,” Brennen suggested,
“He already knows you folks and we can keep you in the loop.”
    Maxwell shook Brennen’s hand.
    “Thank you for your patience and your time,” the priest said.
    Brennen shook his head.
    “Just doing my job, Father. The sooner we can get Duo to a proper home, the
sooner he can put all this ugliness behind him, though I doubt he ever will,”
he said sadly.
    With a bittersweet smile, Brennen ruffled Duo’s hair. Duo looked up at him,
his blue-violet eyes red, but his sobs had finally stopped.
    “We’ll find your Daddy, ok? In the meantime, you can stay here with Sister
Helen. That doesn’t sound too bad, does it?” the cop asked gently.
    Duo hesitated, then nodded slowly. Helen wondered if the boy truly
understood what was happening, that when the cops found his father, they would
never see each other again, that he would never be going home ever again.
Officer Brennen opened the door and let in the paramedics. Helen was
momentarily shocked by their arrival, but then realized the red lights that had
been cast through the windows had been there since she had come down the
stairs. She immediately walked up the steps with Duo. She didn’t want him to
see them taking his friend’s corpse away on the gurney. Didn’t want him to see
them marking the scene with tape and picking up samples or whatever these
people did when they came to crime scenes. God… was that what her church… her
home was now? But mostly, she didn’t want to see it. She looked down at Duo and
saw that he was slumped in slumber, but his face was still pinched in worry.
    For a moment, the nun almost went to the room where the other orphans
slept, then thought better of it. She didn’t know how Duo would react if he
woke up in a strange room with a dozen other kids. She didn’t know how the
other orphans would react to find a stranger in their room. She walked towards
her own room, the door still gaping open from when she had run out of it at the
Father’s yelling. She closed the door behind her and gently laid Duo down in
her bed. His tiny hand was still clutching the starfish and she tucked him in
with it. She paused for a moment, then leaned down and kissed his forehead. Duo
made a little snuffling noise, reminding her of a puppy, and curled up into a
tiny ball, hiding under the sheets. Her bedroom was nearly pitch dark with only
the neon lights from the bar lighting it.
    Helen went to her closet and opened it, turning on the light inside and
keeping the door open just a jar. She knew how children were, and Duo had just
watched his mother be brutally murdered by his own father. She had absolutely
no doubt that he would have nightmares tonight. But, if she took one of the
empty beds where the other children slept, she would probably be able to hear
if he did have a bad one.
    “Good night,” she whispered and crept out the door.

*****

     His mommy had that look on her face again, that sad look. He didn’t like
that look. That look meant that his mommy was going to cry, and it was probably
because of him. It made his insides hurt, even more than his arm did. His daddy
had gotten mad again, ‘cause he had left one of his toys out and his daddy had
stepped on it, so he had grabbed his arm and twisted it really hard. But it was
ok, it hadn’t broken this time. So why was his mommy’s pretty blue eyes all
teary? He loved his mommy. Her hair was light brown, like his was, but it was
all wavy and ended around her cheeks, not cut close to her head like his was.
She was nice and he liked it when she smiled at him. She never raised her voice
or got mad like Daddy did. She played games with him and didn’t mind when he
forgot to put his things away. He loved her more than his Daddy, but he would
NEVER say that out loud.
    He loved his Daddy, too. When he wasn’t mad, Daddy was like Mommy. When he
was mad, Daddy wasn’t Daddy and Duo hated that Daddy. He knew he wasn’t
supposed to. You could hate people, he guessed, but you weren’t supposed to
hate your Mommy or Daddy.
    “Oh, Duo…” his mother said sadly, on the verge of tears.
    Her fingers lightly touched the dark bruises on his arm, but it didn’t hurt
like when his father had touched there. He grabbed at her sleeveless dress,
liking the way the cloth felt. It was a light blue, just like her eyes, but the
bottom bit was white and lacy. She looked pretty in it and Duo thought with
some pride that his mommy was the prettiest in the whole world. She was even
prettier than the lady the next door with the big chest and the long, black
hair. And that lady was younger than his mommy, too. But her smile was stupid
and not nice like his mommy’s, and Duo didn’t think she liked kids very much,
though she did like Mr. Abbot from further down the street and he had three
girls. Duo’s mommy said that the black haired lady was a… a ‘home-wrecker’, but
he didn’t know what that meant.
    “Does it hurt, honey?” she asked him, touching his cheek as lightly as she
had his arm.
    Duo gave a little shrug, not wanting his mommy to know that his arm
actually did hurt a lot. It was going all ‘throbby throbby’ and it was worse
when he tried to pick things up.
    “A little,” he admitted, looking up at her, the blue of her eyes his
favorite kind, “Mommy… why does Daddy do that?”
    He had wondered stuff like that for a long time, but he hadn’t wanted to
ask it. He didn’t know why, but when he had always thought about asking his
mommy why his daddy liked to hit, he got scared. His mommy’s look got even
sadder and it made Duo feel bad. His cheeks got red as she leaned down to kiss
his forehead.
    “Your father… he’s like a hose,” she tried to explain.
    Duo stared up at her in complete confusion. People were not like hoses, he
couldn’t think of a single way that they were!
    “With a hose, when it’s off, there isn’t a single drip of water. When it’s
on, the water comes out as strongly as it ever will. Your father’s feelings are
like that. When he’s happy, he makes us happy, too, with his love. But when
he’s mad, he has no control over himself. He hurts himself, and us, when he’s
like that,” his mother said.
    Duo didn’t understand, but he nodded. He got some of what she was saying.
His daddy just hurt them because he was mad and he didn’t really mean it. He
didn’t want them to really be hurt. But if that was really true… then why
didn’t his daddy ever say that he was sorry? His mother smiled at him and put
her hands on his shoulders.
    “Duo, how would you like to take a little trip?” she asked.
    The six year old tilted his head to the side.
    “A trip?” he questioned.
    They never went on trips. Mr. Abbot and his daughters went on trips during
the summer and sometimes at Christmas, but Duo and his parents never went
anywhere.
    “Yes,” his mother said with a nod, “On a plane.”
    Duo’s blue-violet eyes widened. He had never been on a plane before. He had
played with the little, plastic ones, but he hadn’t even seen a real one in the
sky. They lived too far away from the airport. He nodded excitedly.
    “Just you and me, ok, Duo?” she said, smoothing his hair.
    Duo felt confused again. Just the two of them?
    “What about Daddy?”
    His mommy’s smile was still kind, but looked bitter.
    “I think your Daddy needs some alone time,” she said.
    Duo looked away, feeling weird about all of this. Daddy wasn’t going to
come with them? But… they were a family. They were always supposed to be
together! It wasn’t right that his daddy wasn’t going to be with them.
    “But… why can’t Daddy come, too?” Duo asked.
    “Duo,” his mother sighed, “How Daddy is when he’s mad… when he hurts us… it
isn’t right. Daddy needs to decide what’s most important, his anger or his
love. We need to give him some space to make that decision. And I think we need
some space from him, as well,” she pulled Duo into a tight hug, “I promise,
baby, I won’t let him hurt you anymore. I’ll make it all better. You don’t have
to be scared anymore.”
    His mommy’s hug hurt his arm, but that was ok. She sounded angry, but kind
of like how she usually did, full of love. He believed his mommy would make his
daddy stop hitting. She let go of him and he was alarmed by the tears pouring
down her fair cheeks. She cupped his own cheeks in her hands.
    “We’ll leave tonight, ok? We’ll pack right now and leave before your Daddy
comes home from work,” she told him.
    “Can I say goodbye to Daddy?” Duo asked.
    His mother’s expression darkened and Duo didn’t like it at all. He didn’t
know what she was thinking, but it couldn’t be something very nice.
    “No, honey, I don’t think you should. But we’ll call him when we get to the
airport, ok?” she suggested.
    Duo chewed on his lip, not liking that, but he nodded. His mother stood up
and tapped his shoulder.
    “Let’s get your things, ok?”
    Duo nodded and watched his mother leave his room, then shortly returned
with two suitcases, a little one and a bigger one that was already packed. Had
his mother been wanting to go on this trip for awhile? He sat on his bed and
watched as his mother gathered his clothes and the toys he liked the best into
the little suitcase. She appeared to be taking her time in folding his clothes,
‘cause it took her awhile to do it, but at the same time, she looked almost
frantic. Duo grabbed the stuffed bear that was sitting on his bed. It was a
dark blue color, with little black dots for eyes, looking more like a fish than
a bear.
    “Mommy, don’t forget Teddy!” he demanded.
    His mother smiled widely at him, taking the stuffed bear from him. Teddy
was his favorite. He always slept with the worn, blue bear.
    “Of course I won’t forget Teddy,” she said and put the bear on top of the
clothes.
    “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” a harsh, deep voice came from
the open doorway of Duo’s bedroom.
    Duo looked up and his mother whirled to glare at Duo’s father, who was
looking at the two of them with the hardened, cold expression he usually wore
when he was furious. The look that he had when he was about to hit one of them,
maybe even both. Inside him, Duo felt cold. Really, really cold. Like he had
just eaten a popsicle, but the cold wasn’t in his tummy. He hunched on his bed.
He wasn’t supposed to feel scared of his daddy, but he suddenly realized what
his mommy had been trying to say. Suddenly, he didn’t think that this trip
without his father was a bad thing.
    “Marshall,” his mother hissed.
    Duo’s father took a step into the room and Duo could clearly feel the
temperature drop. He wasn’t even sure why, but something inside of him was
telling him to run.
    “What are you trying to do, Natalie?” his father repeated, then his gaze
fell on Duo, like a rabid dog, “Duo, come here,” he snapped.
    Duo knew he should listen to his Dad, but in that moment, he was frozen on
the bed. His mother dashed in front of him, sheltering him from his father’s
furious gaze.
    “Don’t you dare touch him!” she screamed at him.
    Duo cried out as his father slapped his mother, splitting her lip. Blood
slowly dripped down the corner of her mouth, but she didn’t cry out like Duo
did. She just kept glaring at him and wiped the blood from her lips. She didn’t
look like his mommy at all. She looked like one of those women on the
television, wearing the weird, metal hats with feathers coming out of them
riding huge horses with swords like knights had. They’d face these huge
monsters with the same look that his mommy had right now.
    “Watch your tongue, cow,” his father insulted coldly.
    His father’s light brown hair fell tousled over his green eyes, which
narrowed harshly at Duo’s suitcase. With a hard kick, he toppled the suitcase
over, clothes and toys falling to the floor. He snorted at Duo’s mother.
    “You’re pathetic,” he accused, turning on his heel and leaving the room.
    His mother stormed out, running after his father. Duo hesitantly followed
her. His father walked into the kitchen, taking out one of his bottles of beer
and a package of deli turkey from the fridge. He grabbed a butcher’s knife from
the knife block and  slammed the beer and turkey onto the kitchen counter,
tossing the knife down, and turned to glare at Duo’s mother.
    “Did you really think that you could leave? That you could just take Duo
from me and I would never figure it out?! Did you think that you were being so
cunning, looking over your shoulder for the last week?!” his father gritted his
teeth at her, picking up the knife and gripping it’s handle tightly.
    From behind his mother, Duo felt a chill go down his spine as his mother
strode forward.
    “I might be pathetic,” she snapped, “But at least I don’t take my failings
out on my family!”
    Duo’s father grabbed her by the neck, squeezing enough to make her choke,
but not enough to make her stop breathing entirely.
    “You’re the one trying to tear this family apart! I’m the one keeping us
together!” he screamed back at her.
    Duo looked back and forth between his father and mother. He had seen such
fights and violence before, but it still terrified him and he couldn’t move.
His mother still glared at his father, even as his hand tightened around her
throat. Duo didn’t think he could ever be that brave. But his daddy wouldn’t
hurt her. He might hit her, but they would stop fighting… eventually. They
always did. He felt tears gather in his eyes as his father suddenly pressed the
knife to her throat.    
    “I’ll never let you take my son away from me! If you try… I’ll kill you!”
he pressed the blade deeper, until a tiny trail of blood dripped down her fair
skin.
    His mother continued to glare at him, but even Duo could tell that she was
shocked and scared. His daddy had never done stuff like this before. He hit and
yelled a lot, but this just felt wrong.
    “You really are a bastard,” his mother sneered, “I don’t care what you do!
All I want is for Duo to be safe! To protect him!”
    With an irritated noise, his father shoved her away. She stumbled back, but
quickly regained her footing. If anything, she became even more angry. She
approached him again, her blue eyes on fire.
    “I will do anything to protect him from you! I’m taking Duo away from you,
Marshall, where you can never hurt him again! You destroyed this family, not
me! Long, long ago! We should have left you years ago, but I was too much of a
coward! Do you hear me?! You will never see him again!” she screamed.
     Duo’s father grabbed the front of her dress and pulled her forward. Duo
watched in horror as his father buried the large knife into his mother’s
stomach. Her cerulean eyes widened in shock and Duo knew that, like himself,
she hadn’t really believed he would use the knife. She looked up at his dad in
utter terror.
    “You…” she choked out, in obvious pain.
    “I warned you,” he hissed cruelly.
    The knife made a wet, nasty sound as his dad pulled it out, only to stab
his mom rapidly and brutally over and over in her stomach and chest. His mommy
didn’t scream, just kind of gasped, but the sound of the knife moving in and
out of her was terrible. His father’s face was contorted in rage and he nearly
grunted as he continued to stab her. Blood turned her light blue dress a dark
red, pouring down her legs and pulling under her bare feet. Duo felt sick and
numb all at the same time. His mommy was going to be ok… she was going to be
ok… tears dripped down his cheeks and he shook as he stood there, just watching
and whimpering. He didn’t like the smell. It smelled like your hand did after
you’d been holding pennies for a long time. His mommy didn’t look his mommy
anymore. Her skin was all torn and red, things dripping out of her that weren’t
liquidy.
    That image of the knife burying in and out of her thin, frail body seemed
to go on forever. Then, all of a sudden, his daddy let go of her dress. She
stumbled back, her body like a clump of clothes with no structure. His father
slashed her across her face and she finally fell, blood spraying over him, but
he didn’t seem to care. His mommy lay on the floor and didn’t move. But her
eyes were still open, that meant she was ok, right? Blood from the slash on her
face dripped into her eye, turning it red like her dress, but she didn’t try to
wipe it away. She didn’t even blink. Her fingers twitched twice, then stopped.
    “Mommy!” Duo screamed, finally unfrozen.
    He ran to her, past his father. He had to help her. She was still alive and
his daddy had hurt her really, really badly. More than he had ever had before.
He had to save her! Pain flared at the back of his neck and Duo fell to his
knees in shock. He cried at the stinging pain and felt something hot drip down
his back. It hurt… it hurt… more than his arm could. He looked up at his father
and realized that his dad had cut him, just like his mommy.
    “Dad…” he murmured, suddenly feeling weak and faint.
    “Family is the most important thing, Duo,” his father said, his voice cold
and the knife dripping more blood on the floor, “You and I… we’re family, and
I’ll do anything to keep us together… Without family, a man will shrivel up and
die. Your mother didn’t understand that. It’s your fault, though. If you hadn’t
tried to go with her, she’d be alive. You do realize that right? But that’s ok.
We’re still together. As long as this family is whole, nothing bad will every
happen. Do you understand that, Duo? A man has to protect his family.”
    Duo opened his mouth to say something, to say that he was sorry, to say
that he didn’t have to do that to Mommy, to say anything at all, but the
faintness overwhelmed him and he forcibly fell asleep.

End Prologue Part 1
***** Prologue Part 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     Duo tries to settle in to life at the orphanage, but when he shows
     strange symptoms, Sister Helen begins to worry that there is
     something seriously wrong with him. When he collapses after being the
     victim of a cruel prank, Helen and Maxwell must make some difficult
     choices. But are they the right ones?
Violence + Sex = Love
Prologue
Part 2





    His neck burned like when Daddy had thrown him into the mirror that one
time. The room was darker than before, but Duo could tell he was still in the
front room, right before where the counter separated the room from the kitchen.
His daddy wasn't here anymore. There was a bad, nasty smell and it made him
feel sick. He could see his mommy on the floor where she had fallen, he could
see her familiar outline from the light coming from his parents' room. She
hadn't moved at all. Then, Duo remembered why his neck hurt. Where was his
daddy? Was he still mad at him? Was he going to hurt him like he had hurt
Mommy? Was Mommy ok? His heart pounded as he looked around the dim room,
wondering, if he tried to help his mommy, where his dad would come from. The
bedroom? But maybe that was a trap. Sometimes his dad did that, hurt one of
them and when the other tried to help, he would hurt them, too. He said that
they had to take their punishment, if they did that, it would be fine, but
someone helping them was a big no no. He didn't care so much about that as his
mommy hurting. He tried to get up, though he felt kind of tired, not like he
had been staying up all night tired, but like he didn't have the strength to
move. He felt a hand touch his back and almost screamed, thinking it was his
daddy, going to hurt his neck again.
    “Ssh,” a familiar voice said.
    Duo struggled to see who it was through the dim lighting, but a familiar
face came to him. It was Solo! Solo never came inside his house. He always
waited outside. Duo was excited and relieved to see his only friend. Solo
always knew what to do, and he had never done bad things to him like Duo's
daddy did. He wrapped his arms around the older boy's neck, hugging him as
tightly as he could. Solo would help his mom. He almost yelled out Solo's name,
but remembered his warning and his own fear of his father, and kept quiet. He
didn't like being scared of his own daddy, but he kept remembering the way his
mommy had looked at him, how the knife had sunk into her pale skin, that
smell... how his daddy looked like he didn't care that his mommy was bleeding
everywhere. He felt Solo hug him back with one arm. Duo looked down and saw
that Solo was holding his baseball bat with his other hand. He didn't mind. He
couldn't play baseball until he was older anyway. He couldn't even pick the bat
up, but his mommy had bought it for him for his birthday because it had been on
sale.
    “It's ok, Teddy,” Solo said and Duo felt comforted by the sound of his
voice, “I'm going to get you out of here, alright?”
    Duo felt himself nodding. It was what his mommy would have said right now,
if she had been awake. Solo took off his jacket, glancing at the bedroom door
every now and then, and put the jacket around Duo. Duo suddenly realized that
he had been shivering, though he couldn't feel the cold. He tugged on Solo's
shirt.
    “We have to help Mommy. She won't get up,” he pointed to her.
    Solo looked pained and Duo wondered if maybe his daddy had hit him, too.
    “Duo...” the older boy said hesitantly, “Your mom... she's... she's dead,
Teddy,” he said mournfully.
    Duo shook his head. His mommy had told him what dead was once, when their
neighbor's cat had gotten run over by his daddy's car. She had said that dead
was when you went to Heaven. You had to leave your family and the people you
loved, but you got to see God and all the other people who died. It was really
peaceful, but you could never wake up again.
    “Dead is...” Solo struggled to explain, “Dead is when someone doesn't get
up no more. They can't talk to you or see you. Their body might be here, where
we can see it, but the parts that matter are gone. Your mom isn't going to wake
up. She's gone.”
    Duo continued to shake his head.
    “No...” he protested weakly, unwilling to believe what Solo was saying.
    His mommy wasn't dead. She was going to wake up. She was just sleeping
because Daddy had hurt her. Solo was wrong. Mommy was going to be fine...
    “Your friend is right.”
    Duo and Solo looked at the bedroom in fear. Duo's dad was standing in the
doorway, wearing the same, blood-drenched clothes. The knife was gone, but he
was holding a gun in his hand. It didn't look like the ones on TV, Duo thought,
the silver ones with the black handles with that round bit. It was bigger and
black, mean looking. His father regarded Solo with anger and almost disgust.
    “I killed her for trying to take my boy away from me,” he said coldly, “I
suggest you think real hard on that and leave as fast as you can scamper, rat.
If not...”
    He lifted up the gun and pointed it, not at Solo, but at Duo. Solo's eyes
widened, realizing that the man was threatening to kill his own son, rather
than have someone take him away from him. Solo's hand tightened on the baseball
bat. Leave, leave, leave, Duo thought in a desperate prayer. He didn't want his
daddy to hurt Solo like he had hurt Mommy... he didn't want his dad to kill
him. Solo suddenly shoved him hard, away from him. A shot rang out, but missed
Solo by less than an inch, hitting the floor, which splintered at the impact.
Duo watched in shock as Solo swung the bat as hard as he could, the hard wood
striking his father's knee. With a howl of pain, the man fell down. Solo raised
the bat again, rage in his eyes. Duo saw his father raise his gun again.
    “Solo!” he screamed in warning, even though there was no way that Solo
could move fast enough to avoid the shot.
    Solo stumbled backwards, the bat almost dropping from his hands as the
bullet pierced his shoulder. Blood and flesh exploded from the wound, flying
everywhere, like a mini explosion had gone off in his shoulder. The arm on his
wounded side fell down, weak and useless, but his other hand kept a strong grip
on the bat, not willing to stop his assault. He struck Duo's father again, this
time in the face. The man's head slammed against the wall and he slumped, the
blow making blackness appear in his vision on that side. Something in Duo
screamed out to help his father, but the sight of Solo's wounded shoulder kept
him paralyzed. Solo regarded the man before him, his eyes darting back towards
Duo and his dead mother. There was a calculating look in his eyes. If he kept
hitting Duo's father with the bat, he could kill him, bash his head in. He took
in Duo's wide, violet eyes, and the blood on his neck. He dropped the bat and
ran, scooping Duo up.
    “Hold on,” he managed to grit out, “I'll get you someplace safe, someplace
where he won't find you.”
    One part of Duo felt relief. His daddy wouldn't be able to hurt him
anymore. Another part felt panic. His daddy wouldn't be able to find him. He
would be disobeying him... He clutched at Solo's shirt, letting it all fade
away. He didn't want to think anymore, he wanted to sleep. Another shot rang
out, this one as loud as a clap of thunder and Solo faltered. Duo worried that
Solo might be really, really hurt, but his friend kept walking and there were
no more sounds of gunfire. He couldn't be hurt that badly, he reasoned, but
Solo was walking stiffly and slowly and as Duo looked over his shoulder, he saw
a thick trail of blood, the sound of his friend's heavy breathing in his ear.
Outside, the icy rain beat down on them, but Solo didn't shiver or stop. He
kept walking, muttering to Duo over and over again that he would be safe. Solo
would protect him.



    This wasn't his room, Duo thought as he opened his eyes to a water marked
ceiling. It was similar to his mommy's room, smelling of cheap perfume or make-
up, a feminine smell that he didn't really know what it was, exactly. There was
a hairbrush on a simple dresser that had gold hair on it. Besides that, the
room was very bare, not having a television or paintings in it. The bed was
bigger than his own, but just as lumpy. He clutched the little starfish the
nice lady had given him and sat up. His neck stung him and he winced. He
hunched in on himself, pulling his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms
around his knees. It was quiet here. Usually, no matter how late at night it
was, he could hear one of his neighbor's dogs barking loudly and the sound of
people arguing.     Sometimes it was the house next to theirs or people in the
street. A lot of the times it was his parents. He couldn't hear much of
anything now. He didn't like it. Lately, his mommy would sleep in his bed with
him, holding him close. This bed felt cold and uncomfortable in comparison.
Though the room smelled kind of like his mom's, it wasn't the same. He looked
around, hoping to see someone, but thee was no one. It was lonely. He hoped
that, if he listened really well, he would hear his father moving in their
kitchen or maybe his loud snoring, but he knew that he wouldn't. Solo hit him
really hard and he was far away.
    Did his daddy miss him? Was he sad right now, waking up without Mommy and
him? He had just... left him there. That was bad. If Daddy was sad, then it was
all his fault. It was his fault that Mommy was dead, too. He should have told
her no, that going away was a bad idea. What if Daddy was really hurt? What if
he needed help? What if he was like Mommy? Even if his daddy had hurt him, he
was still his daddy. And now... he was the only family that Duo had. He should
go back, see if he was ok. Even if they couldn't live together anymore, he
wanted to see him. Because... because Daddy didn't hit all the time. He hated
him for killing Mommy, but he didn't hate him for hitting. He wanted his
mommy... tears welled in his eyes and he sniffed. He wanted her back, but Solo
and Daddy said she wouldn't be coming back ever. Daddy was the only one who
still loved him. He had killed Solo and Mommy because he loved him and didn't
want to be alone... It was evil, that he had hurt them, but what if Daddy hurt
himself, too? He knew... he couldn't live with him anymore. It hurt and after
what he had done to Mommy... but his need to see him, to see if he was ok, was
powerful.
    Duo kicked the covers off him. He could just run over there and be back. No
one would know. He would see his daddy and tell him that he still loved him.
His daddy needed to know that. Even if he had hurt him and Mommy and Solo, he
still loved him and he wished that he wasn't so angry and sad anymore. He was
wearing pajamas that weren't his and he didn't know what the nice lady and the
old man had done with his shoes and clothes, but that was ok. He knew how to
get back home.





    Helen spent the night in the spare bedroom they kept for the orphans who
had trouble sleeping with the other children. They didn't have any right now
and Kevin had his own room. The room was sparse, identical to her own except
for the more personal touches. She knew that Kevin's and Father's was the same.
She slept in bursts of a minutes instead of hours, her dreams filled with
bloody bodies covered with curtains, and the sound of a child crying, his words
about his dead mother forever burned into her memory. She gave up on the
premise of sleep around five in the morning. The children wouldn't be awake
until six, the ones who went to school, anyway. The youngest ones wouldn't be
up until eight, but she felt restless. She would make them a big breakfast, she
thought, to keep herself busy and the thoughts at bay. She wondered if you
could get shock just from hearing about someone else's trauma, because that was
what this felt like to her. Her heart felt cold and the rest of her just felt
wrong. Helen pulled on her robe and left the room. She walked towards her own
room, wanting to check on Duo. He was such a small, sad boy. She wondered how
well he would do here.
    The other children could be rambunctious at times and Duo seemed so quiet,
so unsociable... he was adoptable, though, if it came to that. He was cute and
very well-behaved. His shyness might turn some parents away, but others would
find it endearing. It was the trauma and shock that she was the most worried
about. With his gold-streaked, light brown hair, fair skin, and eerie violet
eyes, Duo looked like an angel, or perhaps a faerie from some old, Irish myth.
It made him stand out against their other boys, who had the habit of putting
holes in their clothes and getting their faces dirty right before adoption. She
opened the door as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake him. She knew very
little about shock, but she thought that the little boy would sleep a long
while this morning. Her heart froze in her chest as she took in the bed, the
covers thrown aside, but no child.
    “Duo?” she called out and couldn't help the panic that was in her voice.
    There was no answer. She knelt to look under the bed, a favorite hiding
place for the other orphans, then in the closet. There was nothing. Even the
little, plush starfish was gone. He couldn't have gone far. He had no clothes
or shoes, so he had to still be in the church. But Duo hadn't struck her as the
sort of boy who would go exploring without asking. She walked to the large room
where the other boys were sleeping, forcing herself not to run. She peeked in,
but saw no tiny brunette hiding with the other boys. The only other brunettes
that were sleeping were too old and she recognized them easily. If Duo had
crept in during the night, Tom, one of their street children, who had the
instincts of a cat and the hearing of a hound, would have woken. He peered at
her curiously as she poked her head through the door now, but just smiled at
him and he closed his eyes again. Tom wouldn't have let Duo into the room
without some sort of fuss, most of the boys were territorial.
    Helen looked in every room upstairs, but there was no Duo. She was starting
to panic. Either Duo had run away or... the worst thing she could imagine was
that Duo's father had kidnapped him in the night. She wanted to think that Duo
would have screamed or the sound of someone entering the church would have
woken her, but she couldn't take any chances. As she ran down the steps, she
almost collided into Father Maxwell, who grabbed her shoulders to steady her.
    “Sister Helen, what's wrong?” he urged, not liking how pale she looked.
    “Duo's gone,” she whispered, nearly wailing.
    Maxwell's eyes widened and he gave her a stern look.
    “Call the police,” he ordered.
    “He might be hiding,” Helen said, clinging to hope.
    Maxwell shook his head.
    “Call then anyway,” he insisted, “You might be right. I should have seen
him by now, but you might be right... Still, better safe then sorry.”
    She nodded, already moving past him and grabbing the phone in the front
hall, dialing Brennen's number. His gruff voice as he answered the phone was a
relief to her and she quickly told him what had happened, her voice shaking.
They had lost Duo… she had told him that everything would be better now, and
she had lost him.
    “Sister, did Duo tell you anything else?” Brennen urged, sounding just as
desperate as Helen felt, “Where he lived, his last name, either of his parents’
names?”
    “No,” she confessed, “I put him to bed right after you left us.”
    Over the phone, she heard a heavy sigh.
    “Haven’t you found out anything yet?” she demanded, almost an accusation,
“It’s been hours… you said that there were some things you could check up on!”
    She knew that she was blaming the wrong person for this and really, she
blamed herself more than him, but couldn’t keep the harshness out of her voice.
She was responsible for Duo and if anything happened to him, it would be her
fault. God would never forgive her for letting that poor little boy get hurt.
    “We do have some leads,” Brennen told her, not upset by her harsh tone,
“There’s a nurse at the local hospital who remembers a little boy matching
Duo’s description who was brought in by a woman who looked a lot like him with
a broken arm. Considering Duo’s eye color, we can assume it was him. That gives
us a description of his mother as well. 5’7, chestnut hair, blue eyes,
approximately twenty-five to thirty years old, maybe a little bit younger.
Unfortunately, Duo wasn’t this nurse’s patient, so it’s taking awhile to find
the doctor who cared for him and his home address.”
    “Isn’t there anything I can do?” Helen pleaded.
    “I’m sorry, Sister,” Brennen said, “But you’ll have to leave it to us. Just
be patient and we’ll call you as soon as we find him. We will find him.”
    “Thank you, Officer,” she murmured, hanging up the phone.    
    Be patient… how could she when it was looking more and more likely that Duo
had either been kidnapped by his father or had tried to go home to him? Where
else would a small child go in pajamas and no shoes? She had no doubt in her
mind that Brennen would find Duo. But would he still be alive when he did?

*****
    
    Hours passed. Sister Helen and Father Maxwell, with Kevin’s help, searched
every last inch of the church. No Duo. Helen got dressed, made the children
their breakfast, and watched them as they walked the road to school, which was
only two miles away, but she felt as though her spirit had left her body. She
sat by the phone and didn’t leave it, Kevin standing next to her, holding her
hand every now and then. Father Maxwell made calls to other churches,
synagogues, temples, and loyal parishioners in the area, asking if they had
seen a little boy with blue-violet eyes, but no luck. It was just a little
after ten when the phone finally rang. Helen picked it up, her hand like a
rattlesnake and the phone, a timid mouse.
    “Hello?” she said into it, her voice shaking.
    “Sister,” it was Brennen, “You and Father Maxwell need to come to the
hospital right away.”
    That was the only thing Helen needed to hear. She slammed the phone down on
the cradle as fast as she had picked it up.
    “Hospital,” she said to Father Maxwell, who nodded, the both of them going
to the closet by the front door for their coats.
    Kevin stayed behind, a silent agreement between him and Father Maxwell to
watch the younger children. The beat up, silver Toyota that Maxwell had owned
for over fifteen years sped out of the tiny, church parking lot and down the
road.

*****

    It was embarrassing and painful, running into the hospital, up to
reception, and asking about Duo. When the woman there asked if she was his
mother, Helen had no response, except to shake her head. She wasn’t Duo’s
mother, wasn’t anything at all to him except the woman who had given him a bath
and a toy on the worse night of his life. But, she should be his mother. There
was no other woman left in this world to care for him. That thought immediately
sent her into a deep sadness. Just as the woman at reception started to realize
that the two of them weren’t even related to the patient and question, and was
looking at them suspiciously, Officer Brennen seemed to come out of nowhere
with his partner in tow, the both of them looking very tired.
    “Father, Sister,” he greeted.
    He took his uniform hat off and held it in his hands, reminding Helen of
the officer who had knocked on her door as a little girl to tell her that her
father had had an accident. She immediately feared the worst.
    “What did he do to him?” Helen demanded.
    Brennen shook his head.
    “We should talk in private,” he urged.
    The nun and the priest followed the two cops through a set of double doors
and up an elevator to pediatrics, where they stopped in a silent and empty
hallway.
    “Is it true?” Maxwell asked, “Did Duo’s father break into the church last
night?”
    Brennen shared a look with his partner, seeming pensive.
    “We were able to find Duo through his medical records here,” he explained,
“It seems that Duo has been admitted almost fifty times in the last three years
for various physical injuries. Broken bones, concussions, things like that. His
doctor should have alerted us, it’s procedure,” he said angrily, “There will be
a strict investigation into why we were never contacted.”
    Helen felt relief that some doctor in this place was going to be punished.
Maybe there wasn’t much justice in the world, but there was some.
    “Everything that we tell you about this is confidential,” Brennen’s partner
warned.
    “If you’re telling anything at all,” Maxwell sighed sadly, “Then that means
that Duo’s mother really is dead, and that his father was responsible, which
makes us his only option.”
    Brennen nodded in a depressed manner.
    “We went to his home,” he told them, “We found his mother. It… it took us a
few minutes to identify her. She was pretty bad.”
    His partner whispered something under his breath. It sounded like ‘she
didn’t look human’, but Helen couldn’t be sure. Still, she felt sick to her
stomach.
    “Duo was there,” Brennen said.
    “But I don’t understand,” Maxwell protested, “How could his father have
gotten into the church and taken him? The church is old, the floorboards creak…
if any of the children leave their room, we can hear it, but nothing woke us up
last night. If a man had gone upstairs, we would have been wide awake.”
    Brennen and his partner shared another look.
    “He didn’t,” he informed them, “Marshall Jordan… Duo’s father is dead. He
died some time last night. There hasn’t been an autopsy performed yet, but it
looks like he died a little while after Duo and his friend ran away from the
house.”
    Helen felt a tremor go through her heart.
    “I… I don’t understand,” she stammered, “Are you saying that Duo left the
church on his own?”
    “Did Solo kill Duo’s father?” Maxwell interrupted.
    Brennen shook his head.
    “It looks like the kid hit him with a bat pretty good a couple of times,
but that it isn’t what killed him. He hung himself in the kid’s room.”
    Helen rubbed at her forehead, trying to mask the horror that she felt
inside.
    “He killed himself… because he couldn’t live without Duo? Was he sorry for
killing his wife?” she murmured to herself.
    “Doubt it,” Brennen’s partner said, “He hung himself in his kid’s room with
no suicide note. That’s not really an indication that he was sorry or
remorseful. Given the abuse, it’s more likely he did it to punish his son for
running away. It’s like a case we had awhile back. This girl broke up with her
boyfriend, real messy. He broke into her apartment and killed himself there,
just to get back at her.”
    Brennen gave him a sharp look, not wanting to scare the priest and nun.
    “It doesn’t matter anymore why he killed himself,” he pointed out, “Duo… we
found the kid there.”
    “He saw his father, didn’t he?” Maxwell asked, already knowing the answer
and it filled him with dread.
    Bad enough that the boy had to have watched his father kill his mother, but
this…
    “Yes,” Brennen said regretfully, “One of his neighbors has a dog, a German
Sheppard. According to the neighbor, that dog only barks when it sees people
walking around on their street. It was silent all night except for at eleven
o’clock, around 12:30, and lastly at 3 a.m. The neighbor saw Mr. Jordan come
home at eleven, so it’s safe to say that Duo and Solo got out a bit after
midnight. We found Duo at nine thirty this morning, just sitting in his room…
looking. As far as we know, he spent the whole six hours that way, not even
moving a muscle. There‘s no sign that he went anywhere else in the house and
with all that blood on the kitchen floor… we would have seen something.”
    Helen hid her face in both her hands, feeling as though she would start to
scream if she didn’t. She felt Father Maxwell put a hand on her shoulder, but
it was no comfort. All she could think about was Duo, sweet, innocent little
Duo, sitting on the floor of his room and watching his father hang there for
six long hours. What could that kind of prolonged, visual image do to a child?
    “How is he?” she heard Maxwell ask.
    “Physically? He walked three miles from the church to his home in the
pouring rain with only pajamas on. He has a fever from exposure, a dry cough,
and some minor cuts on his feet. Nothing that some bed rest, hot soup, and
band-aids won’t cure. Mentally… he hasn’t said a single word to anyone since we
found him. We’re hoping one of you might get him to start talking. Until he
does, the doctors can’t get a read on his mental state and until they do, he
can’t leave,” Brennen confessed, “He’s pale and seems confused. The boy just
looks off.”
    Who wouldn’t be? Helen thought bitterly. Who could watch someone they had
loved hanging from the ceiling of their own bedroom for all those hours and not
be messed up inside?
    “I want to see him,” she demanded.
    The cops nodded to her and led them down the hall.
    “Have you found anyone who can take Duo in, yet?” Maxwell asked as they
walked.
    “No,” Brennen’s partner responded, “Both of his parents were only children
and his grandparents died before he was born. He doesn’t have any family left.”
    Helen didn’t know why, but that fact, though it saddened her, brought her
no shock. It wasn’t almost as though she had been expecting it when Brennen had
told them to come here. They stopped at a door and the other cop handed Father
Maxwell a folder filled with papers.
    “That’s everything, birth certificate, medical records, anything any
adoptive parents will need. I suggest you put them someplace safe. Once he’s
released, he’s all yours,” the man said.
    The words seemed faint and unreal to Helen, all of her focus on the door in
front of her. A male nurse walked the halls, but wasn’t pushing anything, nor
did he seem to be going anywhere. He gave them a suspicious look, but kept
walking when Brennen nodded to him. Helen realized that there were probably
such nurses and hospital staff walking every corridor in pediatrics, on the
lookout for anyone trying to take a sick child, and felt another chill.
    “He’s six,” Maxwell murmured, looking at Duo’s birth certificate.
    Helen couldn’t take the tension anymore and opened the door. Father Maxwell
loitered in the doorway, but no one else walked in. She felt something tight
and strong release her heart as she saw the boy in the hospital bed. His eyes
were open and he was staring at nothing, not seeming to care that he had an IV
in his arm. Most children his age would be picking at it or whining about
needles, but his face was blank, like a doll’s. Just like Brennen had said, he
looked sick, like he had cancer, his face even paler than it had been the night
before. The little plush starfish she had given him was sitting on the
nightstand next to his bed and she was grateful that someone, Brennen or the
other cop, probably, had thought to bring it.
    There were dark shadows and creases under Duo’s eyes, as though he had
watched TV for twelve hours straight or hadn’t slept in days. It was the look
of tired eyes, but Helen knew that it was really the mark of a tired soul, of
someone who had seen too much too quickly. The heart monitor that he was hooked
up to was the only indication that she had that he was alive, those eyes not
blinking, his body not moving an inch as she approached him. The temperature
read 101 degrees, but his face was, oddly, not flushed. She sat at the edge of
his bed, the mattress dipping with her weight.
    “Duo?” she said gently, placing her hand on his much smaller one.
    His hand was cold, like ice, and as pale as death. He didn’t look at her or
respond in any way. It was as though he was in a waking coma and that
frightened her. What if he stayed like this? She picked up the little starfish
with her other hand, rubbing her fingers against the worn fur. It looked even
worse than when she had handed it to Duo last night and she easily imagined him
sitting in his room, squeezing and worrying at the plush. She turned his hand
over and placed the starfish on his palm. As though he had just woken up from a
deep sleep, Duo blinked and his fingers curled around the starfish lightly.
Helen breathed in relief as those violet eyes moved, looking around the room in
confusion.
    “Duo?” she tried again and this time, his head turned and his eyes met
hers, “Do you remember me? It’s Sister Helen.”
    “Sis…ter,” he murmured with recognition, then looked down at the starfish.
    He moved his hand to his chest, gripping the plushie there.
    “You’re in the hospital,” she said cautiously, not wanting to frighten him
back into that strange, almost catatonic state, “Do you remember them bringing
you here?”
    Duo gave a slow nod.
    “Mr. Brennen said… he said he would take me someplace warm,” he murmured.
    Helen smiled at him.
    “That’s right, Officer Brennen is the one who found you,” she said.
    Duo had a far off look in his eyes, like he was lost in memory, but instead
of that flat, dead look returning, he just looked sad. She touched his hand
again, hoping that a bit of her warmth might sink into him.
    “Why did you run away, Duo?” she asked in a pleading tone, “We wouldn’t
have let anything bad happen to you.”
    “I just wanted to see Daddy,” he murmured, looking at the starfish and not
her, “I… I wanted to tell him how sorry I was for making him sad. That’s why he
hurt Mommy, because he didn’t want us to be apart, it made him sad. I… still
love him… even if he hurts me sometimes… and even though he killed Mommy… I
didn’t want him to be so sad…”
    Tears streamed down his face and Helen pulled him into a hug, careful of
the IV in his other arm. He curled against her, crying harshly, almost
violently.
    “Duo,” she said painfully, tears in her own eyes, and she stroked his
chestnut hair.
    “But… but he left me all alone…” Duo sobbed, his tone one of betrayal, “He
abandoned me! Because… because I abandoned him! He thought I didn’t love him
enough, that’s why he hurt himself!”
    “No, sweetheart,” Helen soothed, tightening her grip around him, a tear of
her own trailing down her face, “Your daddy was very sick. When people are sick
like that… they hurt themselves. It wasn’t because of you, it was his fault,
not yours.”
    Duo shook his head in protest, but didn’t refute her words. His face was
pinched, as though he were feeling some kind of excruciating pain, and she was
sure that he was, but not any kind physical agony. It was a pain deep inside,
where no medicine could reach. She shared a sad look with Father Maxwell. There
was nothing that they could do for him. The world was cruel. Duo needed help,
someone who knew the right things to say for a little boy who had, literally,
lost everything, but they didn’t have the money for that kind of care. All they
could do was take him home, wait, and hope that Duo would be fine. It seemed
wrong, but they just couldn’t help him beyond that.

*****

     Duo’s doctor, a man who acted like he couldn’t get Duo out of there fast
enough and he had better things to do once he realized that Duo was now a
charity case, his father having left him nothing and the bank, like hungry
vultures circling a kill, already in the process of seizing his home. Duo had
nothing but the nun and the priest standing by his bedside. Once the doctor had
heard that Duo was talking a little, even if it was just to Helen, and had
eaten a little bit, he signed off on everything, not bothering to ask Father
Maxwell or Officer Brennen where Duo was going to go or if he was mentally
stable. Helen hated the man immediately and hoped that he was the doctor that
Officer Brennen would be investigating. Duo didn’t say anything as they all got
into Father Maxwell’s car and drove back to the church. He kept his head down,
still just looking at the starfish, the both of them looking worn and sad.
    Duo finally seemed to come out of himself as they walked up to the front
door of the church. He studied the outside, mostly painted white and realized
what was going to happen to him without any words from the two adults. This was
his home now. He wouldn’t go back to the little two bedroom house he had grew
up in. He should feel sad. Homes were important and you were supposed to feel
bad when you lost yours, but he didn’t. He missed his mommy and daddy. He even
missed Teddy, but he didn’t miss his house, which was always cold, or his bed,
which was always hard, or his neighbor’s mean dog, or the loud cars that went
by his bedroom in the middle of the night.
    The church was bigger than his house. It was cold, too, but not as cold as
his house had been. It didn’t smell bad, either. There weren’t any barking dogs
or neighbors yelling at each other. It was different, but it wasn’t bad. And
Sister Helen was nice. She held him like his mommy did. She kind of smelled
like her, too, but she was taller than his mommy was and when she hadn’t worn
that black and white robe thing, her hair was blonde, not brown. Different, but
not worse. He just wanted to see his parents again, but he knew that he
couldn’t. No matter how much he cried, no matter how much he saw his daddy with
that rope around him, they weren’t going to come back for him.
    Kevin was waiting for them in the foyer when they walked in. He looked
relieved to see Duo and knelt down in front of him. Duo recognized him from
last night, though only vaguely. He wasn’t scared of him, though he was a
stranger and he was older. He had a nice smile.
    “You must be Duo,” the older boy said, extending his hand to Duo, which was
scarred on the palm, “I’m Kevin.”
    Duo stared at the scars for a second. They were white and puckered, in long
lines. They reminded him of the cuts on his mommy and he wondered if Kevin’s
daddy had gotten mad at him, too. He took his hand, shaking it shyly.
    “Kevin, can you find a bed for Duo?” Maxwell asked.
    Kevin nodded dutifully. He usually helped Sister Helen take care of the
younger kids and didn’t mind it, since most of the really younger ones came
from broken families and behaved themselves around him, liking having a cool,
‘big brother’ to take care of them. To kids that young, until they were
adopted, Kevin was big brother, Helen was mom, and Maxwell was dad. They were
just young enough that the world hadn’t completely jaded them yet and they
accepted those kind of roles easily. The older kids were too bitter, too
rebellious to see Father and Sister as anything else but jailers.
    “Want to come with me, kiddo?” Kevin asked gently, well aware of what had
happened to the boy last night, “I’ll give you a little tour of our humble home
and I’m sure Sister Helen will make you something nice for lunch. What do you
like?”
    Duo shuffled his feet, looking at the floor, but didn’t let go of Kevin’s
hand.
    “Mommy used to put bananas in my p.b. and j,” he murmured, sure that Sister
Helen wouldn’t make one like that, his daddy had always said they were gross.
    Helen smiled down at him, patting his head.
    “We have plenty of bananas, sweetheart. Do you like other fruit, too?” she
asked, happy that Duo wasn’t one of those boys that only liked sweets.
    Duo nodded. His mommy used to say he was a good boy, because he liked to
eat his broccoli and carrots as well as bananas and strawberries.
    “We’ll find you something good to eat,” Kevin promised, “Come on.”
    The stairs creaked loudly as they walked up to the room where the orphans
slept. The room was large, easily five times the size of Duo’s bedroom, but it
didn’t look that way at first. The room was filled with ten beds on each side,
a total of twenty, made the same way with the same colored blanket and sheets.
There were two lamps on each side by the second and seventh beds and chests at
the end of each bed, filled with the child’s toys and clothes. There weren’t
any mirrors and just one door leading to a double bathroom. There were various
stuffed animals on some of the beds of the younger kids, parts of video games
on the older ones. There were only two beds at the very end that were empty of
little, lived in things. Kevin led him to one of the empty beds at the end.
    “You’ll sleep here,” he told him, “You can put your clothes in the chest
and Sister Helen will make your bed until you’re old enough to do it yourself.
She’ll buy you your own toothbrush and soap, too.”
    Duo put his starfish on the bed and gave it a tiny, almost nonexistent
smile. The stark bed, with the little toy there, looked as slept in as the rest
of the occupied beds. He looked at the bed next to him, not much space between
the beds, and frowned.
    “I know it’s kind of busy in here,” Kevin said, “But this isn’t a home. The
point of the orphanage is to find you guys a place of your own.”
    “Does that mean I’ll have a new mommy and daddy?” Duo asked.
    Kevin nodded.
    “Every once in awhile, couples will come here and take one of you kids home
with them. If everything goes well after a few weeks, they’ll be your new
family,” he said, noting Duo’s frown, “I know it sounds kind of scary, but it
isn’t so bad.”
    Duo continued to look around sadly.
    “But what if I don’t want a new mommy or daddy?” he muttered.
    Kevin ruffled his chestnut hair.
    “It’s hard, especially since you just lost yours, but nobody wants to be
without a family,” he said.
    “Don’t you have a family?” Duo asked, starting to come out of his shell.
    Kevin shook his head.
    “People don’t like to adopt teenagers. They like to have cute little kids
like you, so they can raise you up like their own. I’m just too old,” he told
the boy.
    Duo thought about that, about not having a family. It wasn’t something that
he could even understand, to not have a mommy and daddy. He tugged on Kevin’s
shirt, to make him lean down. When the teenager did, he threw his arms around
his neck and hugged him. Kevin’s dark grey eyes widened in shock at the six
year old’s affection, then hugged him back.
    “Don’t worry, kiddo,” he murmured, “That won’t happen to you. You’re
adorable and well behaved, foster parents would be stupid not to scoop you up.”
    “But… you should get a family, too,” Duo protested.
    “The world doesn’t work that way,” Kevin said sadly, letting go of him and
taking his hand again, “I’ll show you my room, ok, so if you ever need
anything, you know where I am.”
    Duo nodded, happy to take his hand again. Kevin gave him a small tour of
the church, leading him to his and Father Maxwell’s rooms, the various
bathrooms, the large room where they held mass, Maxwell’s study, the reading
room, and the room that had the old television and chests of donated toys. They
ended up in the kitchen, where Sister Helen had laid out a tall glass of milk
and a sandwich. Father Maxwell called Kevin away, leaving Duo alone with his
meal. He took a sip of the milk, frowning as it tasted different than the milk
his mother gave him. It was a tiny thing, compared to his new bedroom, but it
made his chest tighten. It was wrong. It made him feel a deep sadness, just
that taste of wrong milk.
    Duo lifted up one side of the white bread, to see if Sister Helen had
really put banana in it. They were there, cut up into little circles, like
pickles, on the peanut butter side. Just like how his mother made it. It was
that sight of the circles of fresh banana, the familiar smell of peanut butter
and ripe fruit, that broke something inside of him. He started to sob again,
hiding his face in his hands. Everything was strange here, everything
different, but this was exactly the same. It made him ache for his mother. He
wanted to scream her name and, some part of him thought that if he did, she
might come running to find him, like she always did, but he knew that she
wouldn’t.
    By the time Sister Helen came back to check on him, Duo had cleaned his
face of tears and hid his reddened eyes by lowering his head, his long bangs
falling over his eyes. She didn’t seem to notice. He took a bite out of the
sandwich and felt crying again. It tasted the same, too.
    “How is it?” Helen asked with a gentle smile.
    Duo automatically smiled at her brightly, the way he would have smiled at
his mother, without even realizing it.
    “It’s good!” he said happily, eating with relish before he realized that
his heart still felt empty and yearning.
    He ignored it. Sister Helen wasn’t his mommy, but it was ok if he thought
that she was, just for a little bit.

*****

    He was dreaming again. He always knew that he was dreaming, because he’d
see his mommy or his daddy. This time, he was dreaming of Solo. They were in
the room connected to the kitchen. Duo could smell blood. It was dark. There
was a light on in his parents’ bedroom. He knew that in a little while, his
daddy would come out of the room, just like how he knew that his mommy was
lying, dead, behind him to his right. He didn’t want to see. He wanted to wake
up. Solo was telling him that he was going to get him out, that he was going to
take him somewhere safe, just like before, but this time Duo knew what was
going to happen. Solo was going to take him far away and then, he was going to
abandon him, just like his daddy was going to abandon him. He didn’t want to
dream about stuff that had happened. He wanted to dream about something fun and
nice, like flying or living in the rainforest.
    Solo grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. This wasn’t right. Real
Solo had picked him up and carried him out. He had wrapped his jacket around
him. Solo was still wearing his jacket. His daddy wasn’t coming out of his
bedroom. Solo’s hand was cold when it should have been warm. He remembered it
being warm, because he had felt so cold. They were hurrying towards the front
door and he suddenly knew that they weren’t going to make it. He didn’t dream
good dreams. Something was going to happen. Solo was going to get hurt, just
like before. Solo was taller than him and faster, so it should have been hard
keeping up with him, but it wasn’t. Dreams were weird like that.
    There was a sharp, grating sound from behind them, the sound of fingernails
on wood. Real Solo would have kept running, he had kept running before, even
when Duo’s daddy had shot him, but Dream Solo stopped, because Duo didn’t want
him to. Duo thought that that was what nightmares were, all the bad things that
you thought could happen, even if they really couldn’t happen. He looked back
towards the sound, though he didn’t really want to. His mommy was moving. She
was alive. Or, maybe she was still dead. In real life, dead things couldn’t
move, but this was a dream and here, they could and Duo thought that that was
worse than someone dying and not moving anymore.
    Her red fingernails, painted with blood instead of polish, dug into the
wooden floor, making a loud screeee sound as she stretched her arms out,
pulling herself along by her fingernails. Her cuts bled thick, dark blood and
it dripped everywhere, almost black. Her brown hair, all bloody and matted,
fell in front of her face. The slashed bits of skin hung like leather cloth off
her body, but she didn’t seem to be in pain. She continued to pull herself
along until she, somehow, managed to climb, slowly, to her feet. Her shoulders
were hunched at a strange angle and she shuffled forward, one foot in front of
the other in a jerking movement. Blood dripped from her fingertips, her dress
sticking to her wounds.
    She didn’t look like his mommy anymore, but like something out of those
scary movies he wasn’t supposed to watch, but sometimes, when his parents
weren’t around, he snuck peeks at. Solo suddenly fell to the floor in a heap,
blood bursting out from his stomach. Duo wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. You
couldn’t cry in a dream, even in a nightmare. She stood in front of him, her
hair parted so he could see one milky-blue eye staring down at him in cold
contempt, like how his daddy often looked at him. Her mouth was cut on each
side wide upon, so Duo could see some of her teeth, but it didn’t really look
she was smiling.
    “D… uo,” she croaked, her voice like a rusty hinge and as she spoke, blood
sputtered from her lips, dripping down her chin and neck, “Du… o…”
    Duo knew that he should run, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t that he was frozen,
it was that he wasn’t supposed to move.
    “Bad… boy…” she rasped through bloody lips, “Such a bad boy… Why didn’t you
say no? I wouldn’t have tried to take you away from Daddy if you had just said
no… It was all up to you… If you had just been a good boy… had listened to your
daddy… I’d still be alive… and Solo… and Daddy… All your fault. Your daddy
didn’t kill us. You killed us.”
    She shuffled closer and leaned over him. Her chestnut hair, normally not
even coming down to her shoulders, fell around him like a curtain, wrapping
around him, strangling him. The cuts at her mouth spread and Duo realized in
horror that she was grinning at him, a sick parody of her usual kind, bright
smile.
    “You should hurt yourself, just like Daddy did,” she chuckled, blood
dripping from her lips and traced Duo’s cheek with one bloody finger, “It’s
easy… then… we can all be a family again… won’t that be nice?”
    She leaned close and Duo could feel her hot, stinking breath brush his
face. The blood from her mouth dripped on him in a thick, unending torrent. In
his chest, her fingers closed around his heart, icy and dead, and started to
rip it apart.


    Duo woke up screaming, but his cries were cut short as something hard hit
the side of his face, making him bite down on his lip so hard that he drew
blood.
    “Shudda fuck up!” one of the older boys yelled from further down the row of
beds.
    Several of the other children laughed in the dark. It reminded him of his
dead mother’s chuckle and a tremor went through him. He wanted to go get Kevin,
but it was too dark. He was afraid that one of the other kids might try to trip
him, throw something else at him, or worse, something dead and cold would grab
him from under one of the beds. He curled up on his side, wrapping his arms
around his familiar, blue teddy bear, and trembled. His heart beat in his chest
so hard that it hurt and his stomach ached so bad, he was sort of glad he was
too terrified to go back to sleep, because his tummy wouldn’t let him anyway.
The dreams happened so often, every night since he had come here, that he knew
he wouldn’t fall back asleep. It didn’t matter what time it was, he would stay
awake until breakfast.
    Life at the orphanage wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great, either. The
other children stayed far away from Duo, like he was a diseased dog in their
pack. He was the second youngest, the first a hyperactive five year old named
Riff who was going home with a family in just three days, as the couple fixed
up their house for his arrival. Soon, he would be the youngest, and the
smallest. He didn’t talk to any of the kids, or even Father Maxwell, just
Sister Helen and Kevin. He felt shy around the other kids, who were loud and
rambunctious. They stole his hair brush and starfish, Sister Helen always gave
them back, scolding the child that did it. That had only made their behavior
towards him worse, ignoring him and keeping the other toys from him. When they
did try to talk to him, he froze and couldn’t find anything to say to them,
which made them whisper ’freak’ under their breaths. Kevin sharing his video
games, which he bought through his part time job, with Duo didn’t make things
any better.
    Besides his strained relationship with the other orphans, Duo fell into
life at the church easily. It wasn’t all that different than his life before.
He spent his time reading and playing with the old puzzles that none of the
other children wanted to play with. He hadn’t had many nice things at home,
either. All the coloring books were filled in and the older kids monopolized
the television, watching trashy talk shows when Sister Helen wasn’t around. Duo
couldn’t understand the shows and had no interest in watching the people
yelling at each other. It reminded him of his father. He didn’t want to think
about his daddy. He thought about him enough when Sister Helen turned the
lights out in their room and he had nothing to do but sleep and have
nightmares.
    Before coming to the orphanage, Duo had had nightmares before, but he had
never remembered them. It was harder remembering them, because he knew what he
was going to dream about before he fell asleep and it frightened him every
time. The meals they had were worse than the ones his mother had served, but
not by very much. It was all plain, often tough food, but Duo liked the cream
of wheat Sister Helen served for breakfast. She let him put blueberries in it
and with the creamed wheat, he couldn’t taste how shriveled the old blueberries
were, just how sweet they were. It didn’t hurt his stomach, either. He had had
a few stomach aches before, but recently, he had them all the time. They hurt
so bad, he couldn’t eat anything, which just made Sister Helen worry.
    It wasn’t so bad, in all. Mr. Brennen had brought him some of his toys from
home two days ago, the day after he had been in the hospital. He didn’t care so
much about his other toys, just Teddy, which he carried everywhere so no one
would steal it. Sometimes, one of the older kids would try to grab the bear
from him, but even if they got the bear from him, Kevin would smack the kid on
the back of the head, so few kids tried it again. The other kids looked up to
Kevin, especially the kids from the streets who were all toughened up and knew
how to swear and smoke. Kevin was cool, they said, because he never let no
family soften him up and turn him into a pet. Duo never mentioned to them that
he thought Kevin would have liked a mommy and daddy and didn’t like staying
here all that much. Kevin was the oldest, too, and old enough to drive, if he
had a car, which made him even cooler.
    Kevin, Sister Helen, and Father Maxwell played with him when they were
around and, they said, in a few months, he could go to the first grade and
learn how to add and subtract, how to read better, and learn about the world
and animals and stuff. It sounded kind of fun. He just wished he could sleep
and the pain in his chest, which he had first felt in the hospital when he had
told Sister Helen about his father, had gotten pretty bad lately, would go
away. The kid on the bed next to Duo started to snore loudly, making his heart
jolt and he curled up tighter. He didn’t like this room. He used to have a
nightlight on in his old room, but they didn’t have stuff like that here. No
one but him, not even Riff, had a problem with the dark.
    There was something wrong with the clock. It didn’t glow like the clock in
his house, it was old and ticked, but the ticking was broken, sounding more
like tapping. Like fingernails… Duo sat up straight, biting his lip to keep
from gasping out loud. He could still taste blood in his mouth from biting his
tongue and it reminded him of his nightmare, of his mother’s blood dripping on
his face. He trembled and his heart raced, making him feel sick. He felt
lightheaded, like someone had stuck a whole lot of cotton in his ears. Duo
looked over the edge of the bed nervously. He didn’t want to be in this room
now, but he knew if got off the bed, something from under it would try to grab
him.
    Slowly and silently, so no monsters would hear him and no kids would throw
things at him to alert those same monsters to what he was doing, he crawled to
the end of his bed and stood on the wooden chest. It gave a creak and he
paused, but nothing happened. He stepped onto the flat, wooden floor, his teddy
tucked in his arm, and cautiously walked towards the door, staying close to the
chests, his heart hammering away. He felt dizzy and his head was starting to
ache. There was a voice in his head telling him that at any moment, something
bad was going to happen. He wasn’t supposed to be up this early, Father Maxwell
said so, and he had tried to be a good boy, but the darkness was too scary.
    He got to the door and out into the hallway without anything trying to eat
him, but his heart didn’t settle. It stopped pounding and did something weird
in his chest, like vibrating or twitching and it made him feel even dizzier. He
closed the door behind him and went to the steps. The stairs leading down were
double in his vision as his headache escalated and the dizziness threatened to
have him tumble down, but he grabbed the little bars that descended from the
railing and used them to lead them down.
    There was a light on in the kitchen. This was unusual, since Sister Helen
often scolded them about the price of keeping lights on when no one was in them
and it was still too early for Sister or Father to be up. Again, he thought
about the nightmare, but felt a little less scared knowing that dead people
didn’t need lights to see. They could see in the dark because they lived in it.
He shuffled hesitantly to the kitchen and instantly felt relieved when he saw,
not a monster or even another one of the orphans, but Sister Helen standing at
the counter, drinking from a steaming mug of what smelled like tea. There were
dark rings under her eyes and Duo realized that she couldn’t sleep, either. She
noticed him standing there, but instead of scolding him for being where he
wasn’t supposed to be, like his father would have, she looked concerned.
    “Duo, honey, what’s wrong?” she asked.
    Her concern made him anxious. He had done something wrong, getting up in
the middle of the night. Everything inside told him that his dad would punish
him for something like that, and her worry confused him. It made him wonder if
there was something wrong with him, if she looked so worried, and he wished she
would just tell him to do something. It was easier when his daddy told him to
do stuff because he knew, if he did it, he wouldn’t be hit. He took a step
forward and the dizziness swept him up, making him unsure where the ground was
and he felt weak. He fell, nearly hitting his head against the wall.
    “Duo!” Helen cried out, her mug of tea forgotten on the counter and ran to
him.
    Duo was already sitting up by the time she got to him, not understanding
what had happened. She put her hands on his cheeks, looking at him. He hated
when she did that. He didn’t want to be looked at, like how his daddy had
looked at him, hanging from the ceiling…
    “Dizzy,” he murmured.
    Helen’s look of anxiety intensified. She put one hand on his forehead, but
he felt too cold instead of warm with a fever. Normally, she would have brushed
it off as a boy who hadn’t gotten enough sleep and had just woken up, but with
Duo, she couldn’t. It had been four days since they had brought him home from
the hospital and since then, he had fallen like this five times. Fortunately,
he hadn’t hurt himself any of those times, but she was getting worried.
    “Does your stomach, chest, and head hurt again?” she asked with all the
concern of a mother.
    Duo nodded and Helen felt fear spike at her heart. It was the same five
symptoms over and over again, dizziness, headache, stomachache, chest pain,
and… she pressed her fingers to the side of his neck. There. It took her
several seconds to find his pulse, as though the beat was hiding from her, but
she could feel it. Weak and trembling, but racing. In all of her years taking
care of children, Helen had never had an orphan have these symptoms before. It
wasn’t a flu or a cold because he didn’t have a fever or a cough, but she
couldn’t ignore that Duo was sick. Was it from the shock and trauma he had gone
through, the stress of living in a new place, maybe? She wasn’t a doctor, she
had no idea.
    She couldn’t just ignore it, either. She knew that Duo wasn’t sleeping and
he was eating very little when he had those aches and pains. He would clutch at
his chest often when he was with the other orphans and didn’t run around like
they did. The dizziness worried her the most, since he would fall without any
warning at all. She was constantly anxious that he would fall down the stairs
or hit his head too hard. Duo saw her quiet, pensive look and felt even more
anxiety.
    “I don’t want to see another doctor,” he pleaded, clutching Teddy tightly.
    Helen shook her head.
    “Don’t worry about that, sweetheart,” she said and hated herself for saying
that.
    Every instinct she had was shouting at her to take Duo to the hospital so
they could run some tests, but in reality, that just wasn’t an option for them.
They had taken him twice already and they hadn’t found anything wrong with him.
Of course, they could only take him to the free clinic down town. They couldn’t
afford a bunch of tests and since Duo’s condition wasn’t life threatening,
there wasn’t much the doctors there could do or look for. All she could do was
hope that those pains and dizziness would go away after awhile. She stroked his
hair.
    “You can’t go back to sleep, can you?” she asked.
    Duo shook his head and she almost sighed. There were dark circles under his
eyes, looking terrible on his white skin. He would probably take a nap later
today, but she wished that, just once, he would sleep for the entire night. The
nightmares and restlessness should be normal for a child that had endured as
much as Duo had, but it didn’t stop her from being afraid for his health.
    “I’ll make you some hot chocolate, ok?” she said with a bright smile.
    She might not be able to make him healthier, but she could make him feel
better. Duo nodded happily and she left him to make the drink, hiding her
worried expression from him. The last thing Duo needed in his life was more
anxiety.

*****

    
    Duo liked it a lot when the other orphans left the church to go to school.
He wondered what it would be like when he joined that horde of nineteen, like a
pack of dogs with Kevin as their leader, but for now, he was happy to have some
time away from their loud noises and bullying. Riff had been adopted two days
ago, making Duo the youngest and the only orphan who was still too young to go
to school. Sister Helen had explained to him that they didn’t want him to go to
school until he was really settled in and that the first grade wasn’t that
important. He wanted to go, but he was kind of glad that he didn’t have to
until he was ready. He knew that one of the reasons why he wasn’t going with
the other kids was because he was sick.
    He didn’t know why he was sick, he just was, so Sister didn’t see any real
reason to have him hurry off to school. He liked it when the other kids left
because he could play with all the toys that they usually kept from him and
Sister Helen would play with him and make him his sandwich that he liked. He
even got to watch the television, which he was doing now, and not the dumb
shows that the older kids watched. Right now he was flipping through two
channels, one that had a cartoon about a talking cat that turned into a human
superhero at night, and a real-life program about wolves. Both were neat, but
he kind of liked watching the wolves more, even when they killed stuff, which
was kind of scary. He thought that, if you got surrounded by two wolves, let
alone those large packs, you were a goner. Watching the wolves made him want a
pet, a dog or cat, or maybe even a snake, though you couldn’t pet those. He
didn’t think that Father Maxwell would go for it, though, and if he got one,
one of the other kids would probably just try to steal it anyway. He was
sitting on Sister Helen’s lap, letting her comb his hair as he watched TV. It
was kind of like how his mom used to do it, only his mom had done it in front
of a mirror. Sister Helen was doing a really good job, too. She wasn’t pulling
at his hair too hard and he could feel the teeth of the comb scratching his
scalp, like his fingers when he had an itch there. It was relaxing.
    “This is getting kind of long,” Helen mused, touching the ends of Duo’s
hair, which were growing out away from head, “I’ll cut it later, ok?”
    Duo shrugged. He didn’t care about what his hair looked like very much.
Helen smiled to herself as she continued to comb. Duo’s hair was very thick, so
it was hard to come through, but fairly straight. She would rather that he keep
the neat, close to the head cut that little boys usually had, but the fact was
that they couldn’t afford to get the children haircuts by salons. They had to
do it themselves and she wasn’t all that good at it. She would probably wait
until his hair grew a few more inches, then cut it as close as she could.
    She was brought out of her thoughts as the front door swung open and the
loud shouts of the other orphans could be heard, coming back from school. Kevin
walked into the room, looking nervous.
    “Sister, can I talk to you for a moment?” he asked almost shyly.
    She smiled at him and nodded. She knew what it was about, had been waiting
for him to approach her about it for weeks. Every day that passed was a day
closer to Kevin’s eighteenth birthday, when he would have to leave the church.
He had no prospects, no one wanted to adopt him or care for him. All the other
shelters in the area were full and didn’t want another body to find a bed for,
another mouth to feed. She knew that, unless something was done, the poor boy
would go back to the streets. She ruffled Duo’s hair.
    “Sweetie, why don’t you go upstairs and play, alright?” she said.
    Duo nodded, falling off her lap and picking his teddy off the floor. Kevin
ruffled his hair, too, as he passed, but his smile faded as soon as Duo was
running up the stairs.
    The room where they all slept was noisy again as the other orphans put
their book bags in the chests and chatted with each other about homework and
the friends they had at school. Duo ignored all of them, as he always did,
going to his own bed at the end of the room and sitting on it, rummaging under
his pillow for one of the storybooks he hid from the other kids. Suddenly, a
shadow fell over him. Standing in front of him was one of the older kids, not
as old as a teenager, but the boy was much taller than Duo was. Duo didn’t know
his name. The boy sneered at him.
    “I bet you think you’ve got it real easy, huh, freak?” he mocked.
    The room went eerily silent and all the other children looked over at them.
Some of them even walked over, forming a barrier between Duo and the door. His
heart started to race and his chest ached as he realized he was trapped. He
didn’t respond to the boy’s question. He didn’t know what to do, if he didn’t
answer, the boy would probably get mad, but if he did answer, he might get mad
anyway.
    “All you gotta do is look cute for the grownups and they’ll pick you up in
a flash,” the older boy accused, stabbing Duo in the chest with a finger.
    Duo’s heart seemed to respond to the jab, the beating growing sharper and
more strangled. The ache grew.
    “All while the rest of us hafta be on our best behavior. Some of us might
even end up like Kevin! Why should we have to be looked over just ‘cause of
your pretty, wide-eyed looks, eh?” the boy demanded, then got a sly look on his
face, “I bet they wouldn’t look at ya twice if they knew what happened, would
they? Is it true that yer dad killed some kid and your mommy, too?”
    tha-thump
    The pain grew into sharp splinters in his heart. He got off his bed,
backing away from the boy, his heart slamming around fiercely as the boy
grabbed his arm.
    “It is true, isn’t it?” he jeered, “You must be some pathetic loser for a
guy like that to kill himself just to get away from ya!”
    tha-thump, tha-thump
    The boy and some of the other kids started to laugh as what little color
Duo had in his face drained away and he looked horrified.
    “Yeah,” his tormentor continued, not noticing how Duo was shaking, “Ya
think we don’t hear ya at night? “Oh, Daddy, don’t kill me! I’ll be a good
boy!”” the boy said in a high-pitched, whining tone.
    Something wrapped around Duo’s heart, strong and tight, squeezing it
relentlessly as it continued to race so fast, the beats were more like buzzing
to him than beats. So immersed in his pain, Duo didn’t see the boy smirk and
nod to another boy, who crept behind the wardrobe that was sitting right next
to the only closet that the room had.
    “That ain’t all we hear at night,” the bully said in a low, threatening
tone, like he was telling a ghost story, “There’s this weird sound, comin’ from
the closet when yur asleep, like bumpin’ and scratchin’. Kind of like someone
scratching at the door with their fingernails.”
    tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump.
    “And sometimes, we can hear this voice sayin’ your name. “Duuuooo”,
“Duuuooo”,” the boy continued gleefully.
    Duo shook his head violently.
    “You’re lying,” he rasped.
    “I ain’t lyin’, am I guys?” he asked the room.
    Every head shook and Duo heard various voices calling out, claiming that
they had heard the voice, too, a man’s voice, an angry voice. That thing inside
kept constricting and Duo started to feel dizzy.
    “Now, I think we should do the kind thing here and reintroduce our friend
Duo to his dear old dad,” the boy suggested, “I mean, since they miss each
other so much.”
    The terror exploded and Duo ran forward, anything to escape the boy’s cruel
words and the strange beating of his own heart. The boy grabbed him easily and
dragged him over the closet.
    tha… thump, tha… thump
    Duo’s heart started to slow as he thrashed in the boy’s grip, horrified by
the thought that, maybe, just maybe, his dad really was hiding in the closet.
Maybe he just couldn’t get out. Maybe he was waiting for Duo, and then he would
do what he did in Duo’s nightmares… the boy threw Duo towards the closet and
they all huddled around him, keeping him from running again.
    tha… … thump, tha… …
    Duo started to feel tired, like he hadn’t slept in a long while and it was
hard to keep his eyes open, but he did out of sheer terror as his heart
continued to slow down.
    “He’s not there,” Duo murmured over and over, “He’s not there, he’s not
there, you’re lying, he’s not…”
    “Sure he is,” the boy said, almost sweetly, “He misses you so much, Duo, he
just wants to drag you off, then you can all be one, big, happy family again.
If you listen, you can hear him now.”
    tha… … … thump
    Trapped and terrified, all Duo could do was what the boy wanted and
listened. Seconds passed, but Duo couldn’t hear anything. He listened harder
and harder, pleading God that there really wasn’t anything in there. There
couldn’t be anything in there… where he couldn’t see, the boy nodded again to
the boy hidden from Duo, behind the wardrobe. The boy smiling as cruelly as the
other one was, slammed his hands against the wall. The wall, all the way to the
closet, trembled and shook. Something that had been hanging in the closet fell
with a crash, the hangers falling against the door and making scratching
sounds. In his mind, Duo saw his father falling from the rope hanging him, his
hands clawing at the door for release.
    tha… … … …
    Duo felt a shock go through him, then, weakness filled his entire body. He
lost control of himself and fell, limp to the floor. Laughter rang out through
the room.
    “Oh, man!” someone roared with laughter, “Look at the baby! He fainted at a
little thump!”
    Duo tried to get up, to lift his head, to twitch his fingers, to protest,
no, he hadn’t fainted, he had just fallen, but nothing happened. He couldn’t
move any part of his body and it was hard to breathe. The pain in his chest had
become complete agony. It tired him to even try to move. It was then that he
realized he couldn’t hear his heart beating, either. Something was wrong with
him… that thought should have filled him with fear, but it didn’t. He couldn’t
feel anything. He heard loud footsteps running into the room, closer and closer
to him.
    “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
    For a second, Duo thought it was his father, but was too weak to even care
about that. He heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh, the familiar sound of a
slap. He recognized the sound of the boy who had taunted him, but now it was in
a strangled whimper.
    “I didn’t do nothing’, Kevin!” the boy was protesting.
    “Shut up!” Kevin snarled at him.
    He felt Kevin roll him into his arms, cradling him. Duo’s arms hung at his
sides, unmoving and he looked up at the teenager through half-lidded eyes.
    “What did you do to him?!” he accused, but the boy only sputtered.
    Kevin pressed his fingers against Duo’s neck and paled. He turned his head
to look at the sputtering boy, holding Duo close.
    “Call an ambulance, now!” he demanded.
    “Aw, he fakin’,” the boy protested in a grumble.
    “You stupid shit, if you don’t go tell Father to get an ambulance here,
right now, I’m going to beat you bloody, you understand me?!” Kevin roared,
reminding Duo of a male lion.
    The kid scrambled out of the room.
    “The rest of you, get out!” the teenager continued to yell and soon, the
kids were flooding out, but most stayed by the door, looking in with perverse
curiosity.
    Kevin’s grip tightened around him and Duo could feel his cheek being
pressed against Kevin’s chest. It wasn’t a bad sensation. It was warm and
comforting.
    “Everything’s going to be ok, Duo,” Kevin said, but he sounded frantic.
    Duo wasn’t so sure that everything was going to be ok, he felt pretty sick.
But, he was so tired, the lie didn’t bother him. He just wanted to sleep…

*****

    Helen stopped crying after a half an hour of sitting in the hard, plastic
chairs of the hospital’s emergency care waiting room, but somehow, not crying
and just sitting in silence was even worse. She felt a dark weight settling
inside of her, imagining all sorts of terrible things. Father Maxwell and Kevin
sat just as silently next to her, not even reading a newspaper. None of them
could. A distraction was impossible right now and all either of them could do
was watch the double doors where, somewhere beyond them, Duo was being worked
on. What that meant exactly, she had no idea. No doctor had come out yet to
tell them what was wrong. They didn’t even know what had happened. All they
knew was what Kevin had seen, that some of the kids had played a nasty trick on
Duo and when Kevin had gotten there, Duo’s heart hadn’t been beating. Next to
Father Maxwell, Kevin started to tap a pencil against his thigh anxiously.
    Helen felt another sniffle threaten to leave her. None of this made any
sense. Duo was just six years old, how could his heart just… stop? She had
spent the last thirty minutes alternating between the disbelief, her tears, and
praying to God that there was some mistake, that Duo had just fainted and Kevin
had been wrong. But if that was the case, then why were the doctors taking so
long to tell them anything? Were they even trying to help Duo or, like that
other doctor, were delaying care just because he was a charity case?
    The only good thing that had come out of this was when she had told a nurse
about Duo’s dizzy spells and stomachaches, how he fell sometimes and the pains
he would get in his chest. She had expected the nurse to brush her off, like
the doctors in the free clinic, but the woman had nodded, all business, and had
told her that she would tell Duo’s doctor and he would run some tests. ‘He
would run some tests’ was starting to become her favorite sentence. God must
have heard her anguish and tiredness with waiting because the doors finally
swung open and a doctor strode up to them, a serious, but not grim, look on his
face. Helen was relieved to see that it wasn’t the doctor who had treated Duo
when the police had brought him here.
    “Father Maxwell?” he asked, though Helen wasn’t sure why he was asking for
clarity, Maxwell was wearing his collar and black attire and they were the only
ones sitting in this small waiting room.
    Maxwell nodded and the three of them stood to greet the doctor.
    “Doctor Hannigan,” he greeted, “I’ll cut right to the chase. You are Duo’s
guardians and are able to make medical decision for him?”
    Maxwell nodded somberly, putting a hand on Kevin’s shoulder.
    “His parents… they died about a week ago,” he said softly.
    “Duo is stable right now, but we need to start talking about options right
away,” Hannigan informed them.
    Helen decided that she would like this doctor. He was brief and
professional, unbiased and open with information, but he wasn’t outright cold.
She felt relieved when he said that Duo was stable, even if that didn’t tell
her what was wrong with him.
    “What happened to him, doctor?” Maxwell pleaded, “And what did you do to
fix him?”
    Helen could tell that Father Maxwell was anxious that the doctor had
overstepped his bounds and had performed some kind of surgery on the little
boy. If it had saved his life, she was grateful, but… he was so young for that
kind of thing…
    “We re-started his heart with medicine and paddles,” Hannigan, trying to
keep his language as dumbed down as he could, “Thankfully, surgery wasn’t
necessary, but it was close.”
    “You had to shock his heart?” Maxwell asked, as horrified as the nun, “I
don’t understand… Duo’s just a little boy, why would that even by necessary?”
    Hannigan sighed.
    “It’s serious,” he confessed, “When you told us about his family history
and what was going on when he had the attack, added with his heart rate when we
hooked him up to a monitor, it’s obvious what was wrong, though we aren’t a
hundred percent sure why… Do you know what cardiomyopathy is?”
    Maxwell, Kevin, and Helen shook their heads.
    “It’s a very technical term for a weak heart,” the doctor explained, “There
are hundreds of ways that a heart can become weak; stress and trauma, heart
disease, genetics… I doubt that a child as young as Duo has heart disease and
since he has no prior incidents of cardiac stress and heart failure, I’d say
that it was caused by the recent trauma he went through.”
    “What does all that mean?” Maxwell asked as Helen lost the breath to say
anything.
    “It means,” Hannigan said with a great deal of patience, “That when faced
with a great deal of stress, Duo’s heart will stop beating. The muscles that
pump his heart are weak, making his pulse faint and slow. When we exert
ourselves, our heart pumps faster. This is especially true when we are under
emotional stress. With Duo, he has suffered such a strong trauma that he goes
through stress more often and stronger than we would, but because of the
weakened muscles, his heart can’t keep up and if the stress is strong enough,
his heart will, for lack of a better term, shut off. He’s probably been in a
state of high stress ever since his parents died. This prolonged state of
emotional stress also caused prolonged physical trauma and his heart muscles
atrophied little by little. This is probably why he has been weak and dizzy,
his heart hasn’t been able to do its job. It’s also possible that he had this
condition from birth but was never in such a traumatic state until now. Either
way, it seems that the teasing his friends put him through set off an attack.”
    Helen put a hand on her forehead, feeling like she was going to start
crying again. Kevin was looking horrified and slightly guilty, as though he
thought he should have done something earlier to stop the other children from
bullying Duo.
    “So…” she said in a strained voice, “You’re saying that if Duo becomes too
stressed, this could happen again?”
    The doctor nodded.
    “It is highly possible, yes,” he handed Maxwell the clipboard that he had
been holding.
    Helen glanced at it, but couldn’t understand anything that was written on
it.
    “There are three possible treatments for Duo. I’m sorry, but it’s up to you
to decide which one is best for him,” Hannigan said sadly.
    “We have to…” Helen murmured and immediately felt overwhelmed.
    How could they possibly make any kind of decision when she still didn’t
fully understand what was going on?
    “The first option is a pacemaker,” Hannigan explained what was typed on the
paper that Father Maxwell was looking at, “It will do everything that Duo’s
heart can’t. It can regulate his heart beat and stop him from having dizzy
spells. The second is a heart transplant-,”
    “Now wait a minute!” Kevin spoke up for the first time, his tone angry,
“Duo is six years old! How can you suggest giving him surgery, let alone a
transplant?!”
    “It’s true,” Hannigan admitted, “These two options are risky. Duo is very
young and he is very weak right now. I don’t recommend either of these options,
but it is your decision, not mine. They are also very expensive. I understand
that you both work for a charitable organization. Unfortunately, Duo doesn‘t
have any medical insurance right now and even if he did, since he is young and
otherwise healthy, most plans wouldn‘t cover this until it becomes a life or
death option. You would have to pay for it out of pocket. I know this is a big
shock and I don‘t want to talk about money when your child is so sick, but I
have to warn you that you don‘t have many options right now.”
    “What’s the third one?” Father Maxwell asked desperately.
    “Wait,” the doctor said, “Try your hardest to keep Duo away from situations
that will continue to keep him so stressed. Personally, I would limit his time
with the other children if they are going to tease him like this. Also limit
his time playing sports, just for a little while. Eventually, his heart will
grow stronger and when he is older, surgery will be less risky. There are
medicines that can help with stress, but I strongly advise you not to give him
any. I know it is tempting, but before giving him anything, you absolutely must
talk to me about it. Not just any doctor you know, but me specifically. A lot
of anti-stress medicine lowers heart rate and since Duo’s is already so low,
they will be very dangerous.”
    Father Maxwell nodded and Helen felt like she was on her last little bit of
strength. There was absolutely nothing that they could do for Duo? Either they
put him in harm’s way with a surgery they couldn’t afford or just do nothing
and hope that he would get better. Would they just have to watch him and rush
him over to the hospital every time this happened?
    “I’m sorry, but…” Father Maxwell sighed and signed something on the
clipboard, looking sadly at Helen, “We just can’t put Duo for surgery. Forget
about the cost, I won’t risk his life for any reason.”
    Helen nodded, hesitant but sure. She didn’t want Duo to have the surgery,
either. It might save his life in the long run, but it might also kill him now.
How could anyone ask a parent to make this kind of decision? Doctor Hannigan
took the clipboard from the priest.
    “I know it means very little, but in my personal opinion, you are making
the best choice for Duo. When he’s older, he can have the surgery then, when
he’s in better health and the risk is much less,” he said.
    “Please,” Sister Helen begged, “Now that we’ve made this decision, can we
just take him home?”
    Doctor Hannigan touched her arm lightly and she should have been annoyed by
the pity in his eyes, but it was somewhat comforting.
    “Let him sleep a few hours,” the doctor said softly, “He’s still very weak,
give him a little while to settle, then you can take him home. You have a lot
to explain to him.”

*****

    Duo was sleepy. He didn’t know why, he slept a bit at the hospital, though
it was dark outside, so he didn’t think he should be sleepy. His chest felt
funny, too, like how his legs felt if he had been running for a long while. It
was weird, waking up in the hospital, but it was better than waking up in the
room with the other kids. They put all the lights on, there were no shadows and
best of all, no closets. Kevin and Father and Sister had been sitting near his
bed, waiting for him to wake up. He was scared at first, thinking that maybe
his daddy had killed him after all and maybe this was heaven or something.
Then, Kevin explained that the kids had just been playing a mean joke on him.
His daddy wasn’t really in the upstairs closet, they were just being dumb.
    He guessed that made sense. If his daddy really wanted to kill him, and he
was dead, why would he be in a closet? If he was a ghost, he could go anywhere
and do anything and if he couldn’t, wouldn’t he be back at him, in his old
bedroom? That the other kids hated him so much, they didn’t care if they hurt
him made him really sad, but at least Kevin didn’t think he was a baby for his
heart stopping. Sister Helen tried to explain it to him, that he had a bad
heart, and he had to stop being anxious about everything, but he didn’t
understand any of it, just that he was a freak. A freak with a heart that
wasn’t good enough.
    He told her that he didn’t get it and thought she would be mad at him. His
daddy got really, really mad when he tried to explain something to Duo, but Duo
didn’t understand it. He’d call him retard and say that they should have gotten
a dog instead of him, that the dog would be smarter. But Sister Helen didn’t
get mad or call him stupid. She got Father Maxwell to drive to the candy store
and the two of them left him and Kevin in the car. Kevin kept apologizing for
what the other kids did, which was weird, because Kevin wasn’t the one who did
it. He told Kevin that, but Kevin just got a weird look, like he was going to
cry or something. When Sister and Father came back, they gave him a bar of
chocolate filled with gooey caramel, the good kind, not the kind that was hard
and waxy and chewy instead of dripping.
    When they got back to the church, Sister Helen let him eat his chocolate
and watch the television. This time, there was a cartoon with yellow people on
it that was pretty funny. All the other kids were in bed and Duo was glad,
though the bigger kids didn’t have to be in bed for another hour. Duo thought
that they were hiding from Father Maxwell and Sister Helen, ‘cause whenever
Kevin talked about what the kids did, they looked really, really mad.
    Helen watched Duo sit down on the old coach, enjoying the chocolate she had
picked for him and smiled. He didn’t look like he had just had heart failure.
He was a bit paler than usual, a little bit tired and slow moving, but that was
all. Anxiety tore at her. Just what were they supposed to do to prevent another
attack? Lock him away from the world forever? He kicked his legs back and
forth, making little content noises as he licked the chocolate. He was
adorable, though quiet, and she felt anger towards the other orphans for being
so cruel to him, as well as inadequate to protect him from his own poor health.
Father Maxwell patted her shoulder and she followed him into the kitchen as
Kevin sat down next to Duo, trusting him to yell for them if they were needed.
    “What do you want to do?” she asked, at a complete loss.
    “I think we should take the doctor’s advice,” he said, “We have another
bedroom, we should move him into there. Being with the other kids is just too
stressful for him right now. They resent him because he’s younger and more
adoptable than they are. It’s a toxic situation for everyone. And you know how
nervous he gets when he’s surrounded by people, not to mention the dark. I
think if he has his own space, he’ll be less anxious. I’ll buy him a nightlight
tomorrow.”
    Helen looked heartbroken as she suddenly realized something.
    “What are we going to do about adoption?” she asked frantically, “With
Duo’s heart… no one is going to want to adopt him. Should we really put him
through that, make him hope that he is going to have a loving family, only to
be rejected over and over again?”
    “It will be too painful for him,” Maxwell agreed.
    “We could adopt him,” Helen said forcefully.
    The priest stared at her in shock. Hundreds of children had come through
these walls since Sister Helen had started working here. This was the first
time the motherly woman had ever even suggested such a thing.
    “Helen…” he murmured.
    “I’ll take care of Duo, for the rest of his life if I have to,” she vowed,
“He needs a mother and a stable home. What if he is adopted, will they even
understand his problems?”
    Maxwell sighed.
    “Helen, I know he’s special to you and I know you’re prepared to do what
you have to, but what if he never gets better?” he asked.
    “Whatever it takes,” she said, “I’ll make him comfortable and make him
understand that he is loved.”
    “Alright,” Maxwell agreed, “But wait a few months, ok, just see how he
adjusts.”
    She nodded, already making plans for Duo. The six year old had only been
here for a week, but she felt maternal towards him after everything he had gone
through and she wanted to make sure that he lived a full life and put his
terrible past behind him.
    “I don’t think he should go to public school yet, either,” she told
Maxwell, “He had an attack just with the children who lived here. What will
happen when he’s with hundreds of children? I just can’t risk it. I’ll home
school him.”
    “Alright,” Maxwell soothed.
    The two of them heard small pattering sounds as it started to pour rain
outside. The sound of it made Helen feel anxious and sad as she quickly began
to doubt herself. Could she really raise a child in this place?

*****

    Duo stared up at his father, trying to pick out the things about him that
could have meant he was alive, even though he knew that he wasn’t. His daddy
didn’t look like how his mommy had looked. He was pale, his neck at a strange
angle as he hung by the rope that was wrapped around his neck, tied to the fan
on the ceiling. There was a chair toppled over on the floor. His daddy’s eyes
were half-lidded and if Duo looked at him from a certain angle, it was like he
was still alive. It was like he was staring at him, watching him and examining
him just like Duo was doing. At that thought, he heard the rope creak. His
daddy’s eyes opened a little bit more, his eyes pale and glassy, the eyes of a
doll. The rope snapped and his father fell, but instead of collapsing in a
heap, he balanced on his feet and walked slowly to where Duo was sitting, his
feet bare. Duo wanted to run, but he was paralyzed, frozen where he sat.
Suddenly, his father’s hand shot forward and sunk into Duo’s chest. Duo felt
its icy, cold deadness wrapping around his heart. It squeezed hard and pulled.
His dad grinned at him, in the cruel way he often had when he hurt Duo in the
past. Duo felt the cold that he was sure his father felt as his heart was
ripped from his chest.



    Duo woke up, breathing in harsh gasps and sat up quickly. He put his hands
on his chest, feeling his heart beating wildly, but there was no arm extruding
there. It didn’t make him feel better. He shivered, not recognizing the room he
was in. He knew that it was the room Sister Helen had moved him into, but he
wasn’t used to it yet. He liked it, though. It was better than the big room
with the other kids. Sister Helen had opened the closet and turned the light on
in there and seeing it now was comforting, but it also reminded him of how
pathetic he was, that he couldn’t even look at a dark closet. His chest
tightened, making him think of the nightmare and the hand wrapped around his
heart.

    “Family is the most important thing, Duo. Without it, a man shrivels up
into nothing.”
    
    Tears pricked at Duo’s eyes and he hugged Teddy and grabbed his starfish
tightly. His daddy wasn’t ever going to leave him alone, because… because it
was all his fault. That was why his heart was bad. Helen said that God rewarded
people when they were good and punished them when they were bad. He was bad and
God was punishing him, making him dream bad things and making his heart go bad.
He was punishing him because he took his daddy’s family away from him. He made
his daddy shrivel up into nothing. That was why his daddy killed himself.
Because of him. He was the bad one. His daddy had hit him and his mommy and he
had killed her, but that was because Duo had tried to go away from him. His
mommy and daddy and Solo shouldn’t have been punished and hurt, he realized as
he cried into his starfish.
    Duo should have.


End Prologue




***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter Summary
     Duo manages to convince Father Maxwell to let him attend public
     school. Heero and Quatre spend their first day of school hunting for
     some new 'prey'.
Chapter 1: A New Beginning


Nine years later…


    Duo didn’t need an alarm clock to get up in the morning. Every week day, at
six o’clock sharp, Kevin would knock loudly at his door, then the children’s
room, which of course meant that the hall would soon be filled with screaming
and laughter. Though for the past nine years, he hadn’t gone to school with the
other kids, Duo always got up at this point so he could wave goodbye to them
and eat a long breakfast with Kevin, who, thanks to a donation drive Sister
Helen and Father Maxwell had put on after he had graduated from high school,
was going to a local community college.
    Kevin could only afford to take two classes a year, so even though he had
been going for the last six years, having taken two off to help Father Maxwell
repair the faulty wiring, plumbing, and repaint the church, he hadn’t gotten
any kind of degree yet. Duo didn’t even think that Kevin knew what he was going
to do if he did get a degree, but he seemed to enjoy it. Kevin took mostly
morning classes, so he could help Sister Helen with the two youngest kids,
Bunny and Jazz, both five years old, when he got back at one o’clock. Duo spent
his time when he wasn’t working on his studies helping Father clean the room
where mass was held and balancing their accounts, math being one of Duo’s few
gifts, and babysitting Bunny and Jazz.
    Duo heard Kevin’s familiar knocking on his door and got out of bed. He made
his bed out of habit, not having to think about what he was doing. He was still
living in the same room since his childhood, almost as bare as the day he moved
in. He had a wardrobe and a bedside table where a clock and a picture frame
holding a photograph from this summer of Sister Helen, Father Maxwell, Duo,
Bunny, Kevin, and Jazz at the festival that breezed through every July. Teddy
and the little starfish that he had never handed down to the other children or
threw out were placed on his made bed. When Kevin had helped Father Maxwell
repaint the church, he and Duo had painted his room.
    Previously, the room had been painted a stark white-yellow color that Duo
had hated as a child, but when they had been finished with it, it had made him
more comfortable with calling the room his. Duo had painted the ceiling a deep,
midnight blue, using the astrology textbooks Sister Helen had bought him from a
yard sale to copy the night sky, complete with the bright light of Venus and
the constellations. The moon was huge, drawn full and reddish-orange, something
he had seen in the astrology book, but only once in real life, when he had been
four and his mother had taken him to the park to look at it. Kevin had turned
the walls into the day sky, light blue with powdered clouds that he had made
with an old sponge, adding in butterflies and various birds afterwards, here
and there. In one corner, next to his closet, was a blue dragon with red wings
and green spines that Duo coveted.
    He had a lamp on his bedside table and a nightlight plugged into one wall
that he still used, the stars on the ceiling painted in glow in the dark paint.
That paint had been expensive, but Duo and Kevin had pooled their meager
allowances and had managed to afford it. He still had a strong fear of the
dark, though he had outgrown most of the nightmares of his childhood. He had
one every now and then, mostly during rainstorms, but did not hide away from
closets or cringe in terror when he heard something tapping on the walls. He
had three posters tucked away in his closet, all of concerts that he had found
at various yard sales, for Blue Oyster Cult, The Rolling Stones, and Kansas.
They were his favorite bands.
    He had fallen in love with rock ever since he had heard Laugh, I Nearly
Died playing on Kevin’s radio. He was still looking for Soundgarden and
Scorpion posters, although the three posters he had had been sitting in this
closet for the past couple of years. Sister Helen didn’t approve of the dark
lyrics in the songs or their bad boy images and he didn’t have the courage to
put the posters up on his walls. He didn’t even own any of the cds because he
didn’t want her to be mad at him. The only time he got to listen to rock was
when Kevin took him on car rides in Father Maxwell’s Toyota to pick up
groceries. Duo still didn’t have any friends, just Kevin and Bunny, he
supposed, who thought that he and Kevin were gods. Kevin was like the big
brother that he had never had.
    Kevin didn’t care that Duo was shy and weird, or that he couldn’t play
sports or that Sister Helen had home schooled him because his heart was so
messed up. Instead of hanging out with his older, and most definitely cooler,
classmates, he hung out at the church with Duo. He even took him to movies when
he had the money, although Sister Helen didn’t like that. She said that the
loud noises and all the people surrounding them would give him an attack, but
Kevin would just roll his eyes and her and say that Duo could take care of
himself. Duo wasn’t so sure about that. When Sister Helen started on about all
the stuff he wasn’t supposed to do, like running and watching scary movies and
being around kids his own age, it made him more and more nervous, until his
heart started to beat fast and he had an episode. Episodes were different from
attacks, he just got really dizzy and sick. Sometimes he threw up. But at least
he didn’t have to go to the hospital.
    Kevin was always telling Duo that he could do a lot more than Duo thought
he could, that he just needed to be brought out of his shell and his heart
would get stronger. Duo didn’t doubt that that was true, unlike Sister who
protested that something like that would only hurt him. He knew how shy and
reclusive he was, but he also knew it had nothing to do with his heart. Well,
maybe just a little bit. He had had three attacks in his life and each time he
had ended up in the hospital, having his heart shocked back to life. It wasn’t
exactly an experience he enjoyed. It was terrifying, knowing that he could
never be a normal kid. And even if his heart was ok, he still couldn’t shake
the shyness. Other kids scared him, his few experiences with them not panting a
good picture in his mind. He didn’t like it when people looked at him, like
they were burning holes in his soul. Whenever anyone looked at him, he knew
that they were seeing the freak that he was, all thin limbs and weird hair. It
scared him and gave him panic attacks.
    But, there were some things that he could do that Sister Helen refused to
admit, like going to the movies. The other was something that Kevin had been
fighting with her and Father Maxwell about for years, like this summer. Duo had
sat on the steps and had listened the three of them yelling at each other,
feeling guilty and ashamed at his own inadequacies. He was fifteen years old,
which meant he should be going to high school this year. It was something that
Duo thought about a lot, going to public school. Sister Helen always vetoed it,
saying he wasn’t strong enough, that the other kids would make him too nervous.
Kevin said that a little social activity would do him some good. And on it
went, every since year, back and forth between the two of them, with Father
Maxwell mediating. This year had been no different and Duo had felt instantly
annoyed that Sister Helen was just assuming that he didn’t want to go.
    As he had listened to the fight, he heard her say that he didn’t need to go
to school, that she could keep home schooling him and had felt depressed about
that statement. The thought of going to school with other kids was frightening,
because he had never done it before, which, he thought, was ridiculous at his
age. He shouldn’t be scared of classmates. He shouldn’t be anxious all the
time, either. It just made him feel ashamed. But, at the same time, he didn’t
like being home schooled that much, either. At the same time that he would die
happily if he could go through his entire life without being noticed, he wanted
to be normal. He couldn’t do that if he lived in a cage. He didn’t want to make
friends, but he did want to learn. He wanted to read textbooks that Sister
Helen hadn’t bought from a yard sale and be taught by actual teachers.
    He wanted to be something more than this scared, pitiful kid. How could he
possibly do that by being home schooled his entire life by a nun? He loved
Sister, but it depressed him when he thought of his future because he honestly
couldn’t see one. Duo had worried that, once again, Helen was going to win the
fight and he would stay home for another year, only to hear his own thoughts
being spoken allowed by Kevin.
   “How can you expect him to ever grow up, to have a real future and be happy
if he doesn’t get a proper education?! You’re just smothering him and being
overprotective! Yeah, his heart’s not great, but he isn’t wasting away in a
hospital bed yet, either, so stop treating him like it’s just a matter of time
before that happens!”
    Duo had felt shock and happiness hearing his friend say that, having
someone stand up for his sake. Silence had fallen between the three of them, no
one having anything else to say. Later that night, Father Maxwell, the unbiased
of the three, had approached him with a daunting question.
    “Duo… what is it that you want?”
    In all the years that this subject had been argued, no one had asked him
that. He had stuttered awkwardly through his response, but finally managed to
say it. He wanted to go to high school. He just wanted to try, even if it
terrified him. And so, here he was at six o’clock in the morning, looking
around his room to make sure everything was in place and feeling like some kind
of jungle explorer, ready to embark on a new journey to places unknown. He
checked his book bag, though he had checked it a thousand times last night,
just to make sure that he didn’t forget anything. It was Kevin’s old book bag,
a ratty, black thing. He had been living at the orphanage long enough to not
expect anything better.
    That he knew that he was going to be treated as a charity case at school
didn't help his fear of going, but he knew that Kevin and all the other kids
had to deal with it every single day. Everything in the old book bag was
exactly as it had been the last time he checked, all in order. No little elves
had come in the night to steal anything, he thought bitterly, annoyed with his
own anxiety. He grabbed the nicest clothes he had; a light blue t-shirt with
powdered-white etchings of angel wings on the front and a pair of black jeans
that, unlike most of his clothes, weren't worn thin or had any holes, both that
Sister Helen had bought for him off some clearance rack, but were nice and
untarnished, a new pair of black socks, an old pair of boxer shorts, though he
wasn't so much worried about them being new, and the knitted, dark grey, beanie
cap that he had found some summers ago in a pile of clothes that had been
donated to the church, but no one really wanted to wear. It was a bit too big
on his head, but that was ok. He needed the extra space and he hoped that he
would hit a growth spurt at some point.
    Most week days, the younger kids who went to school monopolized the three
showers that the church had, needing to look nice and fresh for school and
possible adoptions. Usually, Duo went last, having the time to wait and not
having to really look nice for anyone. By the time he went, the water was
already bordering on cold, but it had never really bothered him. This morning,
he rushed with his clothes to the upstairs bathroom and saw with relief that
Kevin was guarding the door. The last thing he wanted was to go to school his
very first day, dirty.
    “It's all yours,” Kevin said cheekily, “Only Steven, Carol, Sarah, and
Jordan went up here, so there should be some warm water left.”
    “Thanks, Kev',” Duo said with a small smile and went into the bathroom,
locking the door behind him.
    Duo always used this upstairs bathroom. Sure, the water, for some reason,
got colder quicker, so you had to really rush through your shower, but it was
the only bathroom that had a door that locked and a mirror. A mirror was very
important, especially to the girls, but to Duo, it was a necessity. Not that he
was vain. What did he have to be vain about? He put his clean clothes on the
counter and his pajamas in the little basket that held a few other kids'
clothes to be washed, then entered the shower stall. Predictably, the water was
luke warm, at best, and there was only a small sliver of soap left, but plenty
of shampoo. He made quick work of washing his hair and body, done in a record
seven minutes, knowing that Kevin needed it next. He dried himself as quickly
as humanly possible, then started to work on combing his hair. His hair was
fairly straight, but because there was so much of it now, it took a while to
comb out well.
    The way his bangs fell made him look like some bad boy off a clothes
catalogue, one of the many reasons why he hated his hair. He wished that he
could have one of the haircuts the younger boys had, with it cut close to their
heads, with very little bangs at all. The sad fact was that haircuts came very
rarely at the orphanage, especially now that Sister Helen's sight was going. He
would just  chop it all off himself, but he didn’t know the first thing about
hair cuts and didn’t want to make it worse.
    It wasn’t that bad, he supposed. Duo just didn't like the untamed, long
hair he had right now because it made people stare at him and he often wondered
what they were assuming, that he was some punk, especially since he lived at an
orphanage that so often took in street kids. That seemed to be what people
thought, that all the boys and girls from the church orphanage were from bad
homes, that they stole and did drugs. He hated those people. His life at the
church now was nothing like how it was when he had been a child. He knew all
the orphans here, their stories, their personalities, and yeah, maybe there
were some bad seeds, but mostly, they were good kids and he had spent many of
his years soothing their fears about getting adopted, helping the girls look
pretty and proper, and helping the younger kids fall asleep in the same room
that had terrified him. If it didn’t make people stare at him, he would
probably like his hair. Sister Helen had shown him how to braid it when it had
first started to get long, so it wasn’t in the way as much as it had been.
    Duo finished combing his waist long hair and braided it, tying it off with
a rubber band. He tossed the comb in the top drawer of the counter and studied
his reflection. Yeah, what did he have to be vain about? His skin was so white,
he looked like something out of a vampire film. Because of his weak heart,
Sister Helen didn't let him go outside very often, and it showed. Mostly, he
was below average. Below average height, below average build, since he didn't
get much exercise but his metabolism kept him skinny. He was just extremely
grateful that he didn’t have pale hair, or he would look even more sickly. He
looked down, past his stomach. Although he was fifteen years old, puberty
hadn’t hit him very hard. He hadn’t had any major growth spurts and even his
pubic hair was thin and faint. Maybe it had all gone to the top of his head or
something because there were other kids who hadn’t had hair cuts in years, like
him, but he was the only one with hair like this. When he had been younger, he
had been constantly mistaken for a girl, not because his facial features and
build were feminine, they weren’t, just because of this stupid hair. It didn’t
happen as much nowadays, but still enough that it was beyond embarrassing.
    Even worse, he actually was hairless under his arms. Sister Helen had
worried about it enough to take him to Doctor Hannigan, but the doctor had told
them that there was nothing seriously wrong with him, that there was nothing to
cure. He kept fantasizing that, one day soon, puberty would kick into overdrive
and he would get as tall as Kevin, that he wouldn’t look like he was shaving
his legs and underarms. Hell, while he was at it, he might as well dream of
getting colored contacts. If there was anything that he hated more than his
hair, it was his eyes. The hair he could fix, but his eyes were just freakish
and gained him far too much attention. He had mentioned it to Sister Helen
once, even though he knew they couldn’t afford it, but she was against it. It
didn’t even have anything to do with money, she had said at the time. She
constantly told him that he was a gift from God to her, so he should treasure
everything that was different and wonderful about him, he just had a hard time
finding his mutant eye color as something 'wonderful.'
    He had yet to see another person with eyes this weird, bright shade of
blue-violet. It didn’t help that, not only was she against changing his body in
any way, Sister Helen loved his eyes, saying that they were flower petals in
the snow, luminous and, Duo thought, strange. It was his dream though, more
than going to college, that one day he would lop his hair off into some normal,
boring hair cut, and find the blandest color of contacts imaginable, then he
could just disappear into a crowd. No more people staring at him and whispering
to each other if he was wearing contacts, and what sort of weird boy let their
hair grow this long? Then, someone who knew Duo would say that his eye color
was natural, which was even worse. It was enough to make him want to disappear.

    Duo glared at his reflection, then looked away, hating how he looked with
every fiber of his being. Sister Helen might say that he looked handsome, but
she was biased, and not a single person had complimented him. They whispered
behind his back, laughing, and he knew how weird and ridiculous he looked. He
pulled on his clothes and meticulously tucked all of his cinnamon colored hair
into the cap. This was why he needed the mirror, so he could make sure that
every single strand of hair was hidden from sight. The length of it made it
hard, but the cap was just big enough to hold all of it without anyone noticing
that it didn’t quite match his smaller head. Sister Helen hated the cap, but he
hardly left the church without wearing it anymore. It made him feel safe, kind
of like he had a secret identity or a mask.
    There were days, long, tiring days, when Duo wished that, like his hair, he
could just find some way to hide everything that he was. Find some nice, dark
hole where he wouldn’t have to think about his father’s half lidded eyes,
always staring at him, accusing, or remember the way his mother’s hand would
linger on his head, how she would hold him tightly when she was sad, as though
he were strong enough to keep her tears at bay, as though he could be the man
for her that his father never could be.
    He didn’t want to think about the terror he felt when it started to rain
and he could hear the pattering on the church roof, didn’t want to think about
how his heart hurt him a little, every time he woke up from a bad dream. He
didn’t want to be burdened by those memories. He wanted someone to come along
and take control of his life, so he could finally stop being afraid. But, he
knew that this person in the mirror who he hated so much was here to stay. He
had to walk on his own two feet, even if it felt like those feet were broken
sometimes. He wanted an answer when there was no one around him who could even
understand the question he was asking. How could he tell Sister Helen about
these things, when all she did was worry about him, even during the times when
she didn’t need to be worried? How could he rely on Kevin when the twenty-six
year old was still trying to find himself?
    Hair safely hidden, Duo left the bathroom, barely opening the door before
Kevin was running in, slamming the door behind him. Duo shook his head in
amusement, then walked downstairs to the kitchen where his two caretakers and
most of the other orphans were having breakfast. They didn’t have that many
children this year, only thirteen instead of just under twenty. There had been
twenty-three last winter, more than the church could really handle, but by
Christmas, three had run away, one, a thirteen year old girl that they had
learned was pregnant, had been taken in by a women’s shelter nearby, and five
had thankfully been adopted during the Christmas season. Shortly after New
Year’s, two three year olds under their care, a brother and sister fraternal
twins, had tragically died after contracting a relentless strain of pneumonia
that had infected a large population of the town.
    The brother and sister, brought to the church by a caring uncle who had
found his sister, the children’s mother, trying to the sell the two of them
into labor for a quick buck after the entire family, including the uncle, had
gone bankrupt. The man had been incapable of caring for the children, who were
both malnourished, and had given them to the church, but without proper care,
the sickness had been too much for children that young and neglected. It had
been horrifying to watch and Duo, who had seen far too much death in his young
life, still had a hard time thinking about the two of them. Still, he
understood that life moved on. They had gotten Bunny just weeks after that,
proving that very fact to him. She sat at the table, too, looking tired, her
eyes dropping as she munched on the waffles that Sister Helen had made for all
of them, barely able to stay awake.
    The church, suffering from darkness and depression after the death of the
twins, had, as a whole, welcomed Hisaga Ayako, whom they had quickly nicknamed
Bunny, with open arms. She was a bright, happy child who clung to Duo and Kevin
like an adorable leech and loved to draw pictures for them. They called her
Bunny because the little girl had an odd affinity for vegetables, rare for any
child, her favorite snack being large, raw, whole carrots, and she also tended
to carry around a blue, stuffed rabbit, who had no name. It reminded Duo of his
blue bear, named only Teddy, which he had only stopped carrying around with him
everywhere when he was eleven.
    Bunny was intelligent and beautiful with straight, long black hair that
fell to her hips, prettily shaped, black eyes, and slightly tanned skin. She
looked like the poster child for adoption dressed in her pink pajamas with
brightly colored fish on them, her little feet clothed in fluffy slippers in
the shape of orange kittens, but she had been here ten months and hadn’t even
been glanced out at potential foster families. The reason was the thick scar
that ran from her right temple, over the very top of the bridge of her nose,
under her left eye, and to the left side of her face, almost to her neck. It
was put there by a sharp knife that had just nearly taken her left eye out.
    She was lucky that her eye hadn’t been affected at all, even when it had
happened and the wound had become swollen, but few parents wanted a child
disfigured in that way, or to shell out the money for plastic surgery. It
angered Duo. The last thing he wanted was for Bunny to end up like him and
Kevin, but the fact was that all of the orphans were merchandise, nothing more
than a commodity to families wanting children. They were examined like slabs of
meat, their physical appearance, behavior, and past history, and if there was
even one, slight flaw, they were rejected. Tossed back into the bin from whence
they came like any other defective product.
    It was disgusting to him that the three of them were now labeled ‘special
cases’ by the orphanage, children who would probably never be adopted, just
because Duo had a bad heart, Bunny had a scar, and Kevin was too old. It was
how the system worked, and he understood that, but that didn’t make him feel
any better about it. If family really was the most important thing, then why
were they being denied a chance at one because parents didn’t want to put some
effort into it? They wanted an easy fix, some low maintenance child that would
be as easy, and normal, as possible. As a child, watching the other, ‘perfect’
children be adopted, Duo had wondered if these people really wanted a son or
daughter, or if they just craved the blind love of a pet, something that they
had taken in out of the cold and therefore, that thing owed them for the rest
of its life. Sister Helen was old and poor, without any husband to help her
raise him beyond Father Maxwell, but she hadn’t flinched in allowing him to
stay, teaching him everything she knew, and even giving him Father’s last name.

    “Morning, Bunny,” he greeted with a smile, kissing the top of her head.
    Bunny scrunched up her nose a little, more out of tiredness than being
kissed, then beamed up at him and kissed his cheek.
    “Mornin’, Teddy!” she chirped.
    There were seven children, plus Sister and Father, sitting at the old
wooden table, the others probably taking a shower and Duo knew that Jazz was
still sleeping. They just barely fit, even though most of them were sitting in
chairs, they had to eat their meal off their laps. There was one space saved
for him and none of the kids looked annoyed that they were squeezed in while
Duo got a space. Most of them understood that there was a hierarchy, that Duo
wasn’t like them and he was one of the ‘big kids’. Or maybe they just loved him
that much. Sure enough, as Sister Helen smiled at him, placing a plate at his
spot, a chorus of ‘morning, Duo!’ went out among the little kids and young
teens alike, making Duo smile. It was a far cry from the group that had bullied
him when he was younger. At the same time that these ones understood he wasn’t
up for adoption, they still saw him as one of them.
    Duo was the one they ran to they were in trouble, and he usually talked his
way out of their trouble for them. He, like Kevin, was seen as ‘big brother’ by
them and he craved that. It was like having a dozen little brothers and sisters
when he had no family at all. He loved that feeling of being loved, of being
admired, seen as someone special and trustworthy. It was probably because he
thought so little of himself, so seeing that love in their faces as he sat down
made his anxiety seem far away. He dug into his waffles happily. They usually
didn’t have large meals like this for breakfast, either cheap, generic-brand
cereal or cream of wheat, but it was a tradition in their little household.
Waffles on the first day of a new year of school.
    “Oh, Duo,” Sister Helen said, almost sadly, as she took in his attire.
    Duo felt his stomach fall and anxiety starting to return. He hated it when
she used that tone, the one that said ‘you know I told you not to do that. I
don’t know why you have to be so stubborn.’ It was the one that accused him of
disobeying her, or worse, doing something that would make her worry about him.
It was a gentle scolding. Duo would have preferred if she would just come out
and yell at him for doing something wrong. He never knew what to do when she
talked to him like that. Was she punishing him, pitying him, covertly telling
him what not to do, or did she not care enough and he could get away with it?
It made his head ache for some reason, even though it wasn’t that big of a
deal.
    “I really wish you wouldn’t wear that old thing. Won’t you take it off for
school, at least? Your classmates won’t be able to see how handsome you are,”
she said, pleading.
    Duo hesitated, feeling trapped between needing to obey Sister Helen, like a
strong reflex, and wanting to keep his hat on. The anxiety grew and he felt his
heart beat start to go faster. He hated her kind look sometimes, because when
he couldn’t do everything she said, couldn’t give her everything she wanted,
couldn’t just be a good boy, it hurt him.
    “Let the kid wear the damn hat,” Kevin said, entering the kitchen, his hair
wet, “He’s not a baby anymore. He can wear whatever he wants to.”
    Duo immediately felt a little bit better, having someone to back up what he
wanted.
    “Kevin, language!” Helen scolded angrily while the younger children
laughed, mouthing damn while the nun’s attention was on Kevin.
    Again, Duo felt something squeeze his heart. She always scolded Kevin when
he did something wrong, but talked to Duo like he was a child, saying couldn’t
he please do this, he really ought to do that… like he was made of glass and
would shatter if she talked to him harshly. He was glad to have her piercing
gaze on Kevin instead of him, but thought it would be better if she scolded him
like that. At least it would make him feel like a teenager instead of a little
kid. As Kevin sat down, he ruffled Duo’s hat a little. Duo mock glared at him
and they both ate at similar paces. Sister Helen looked at Duo again, but Duo
lowered his head, pretending to concentrate on his food and that he couldn’t
see her. Eventually, she went back to her food, too. Crises averted.
    The horde of children and teenagers finished their breakfasts and soon
fought over who got to go into the bathroom to brush their teeth. Sister Helen
followed the younger children, the ones who had the habit of not brushing at
all. Duo was more diligent, brushing his teeth and grabbing his book bag and
going down again. Kevin was waiting for him, not having to leave yet, along
with Bunny, who held his hand. He handed Duo his denim jacket that he had taken
from the closet next to the door with a tempered smile. The jacket was just as
worn as most of Duo’s clothes, but it would keep him warm for now.
    “We’ll have to go shopping for a winter coat for you soon,” Kevin pointed
out.
    Duo nodded grimly. He hated shopping for clothes. There were too many
people and it was tiresome, not to mention sad, watching Sister Helen try to
balance which clothes would last the longest, be the warmest, and their meager
budget all at once. He was always tempted to tell her to just forget it, he
wasn’t worth the fuss, but she would just argue with him, which made him feel
even guiltier. He slipped the jacket on and the nun suddenly appeared next to
them and fussed with Duo’s jacket, trying to straighten it by pulling lightly
on each side. She handed him a brown, paper bag with his lunch in it.
    “Remember to look out for bullies,” she warned him, “Boys your age can be
very cruel to each other and I want you to promise that you’ll look out for
yourself.”
    Once again, Duo felt that pressure around his heart as it started to speed
up, just thinking about how mean his classmates might be to him, that he might
have another attack, that-
    “And don’t forget your doctor’s note,” she continued to say in a litany,
“You can’t do any strenuous activities, you know that.”
    And she knew that he had his doctor’s note in his bag. She had only asked
about twenty times last night. His chest tightened further. But what if he had
forgotten it, he thought in a panic. What if he went to gym class and the
teacher made him run laps and he had an attack and all the kids laughed at him?
    “Don’t forget to eat all your lunch, either. It will help with the
headaches. Do your best on the placement tests, you don’t want to be stuck in
remedial classes all year,” she continued to nag.
    Kevin watched in alarm as the color seemed to drain from Duo’s face and he
looked scared and anxious. He could tell by the pinched look on his face that
the long-haired boy was feeling chest pain and Kevin continued to worry as Duo
put one hand over his heart, as though he could will the pain and his racing
heart beat away. Kevin narrowed his eyes at Sister Helen. He doubted that she
even realized what she was doing, but every time she opened her mouth, her
words just scared Duo further. A large part of Duo’s problems weren’t his heart
or his shyness, but that fear, and Helen kept throwing fuel on the fire, adding
her concerns and anxieties to the mix. Helen noticed Duo clenching his chest
with his hand and made a small, pitying noise.
    “Oh, Duo, you don’t have to go school today. Why don’t you stay home?” her
tone was strained and to Duo’s ears, it was like she was begging him to stay
home with her.
    “Will you leave him be?!” Kevin suddenly snapped, reminding Duo that he
wasn’t alone with Sister Helen, “At this rate, you’ll nag him to an early
grave!”
    Helen stared at him sternly and Duo was sure that a terrible fight would
ensure. Bunny let go of Kevin’s hand and ran forward, hugging one of Duo’s
legs. Kevin worried that things were going to get a hundred times worse, that
Bunny didn’t want Duo to go to school, either. Duo had always been around for
her, if she needed to play or talk about her absent family. If she, along with
Sister Helen ganged up on him, Duo might actually lose this battle and stay
home. Despite Kevin’s fears, Bunny smiled brightly up at Duo.
    “Have a nice day at school, Teddy!” she said in the happy tone of a small
child.
    To Kevin’s amazement, the color returned to Duo’s face and, like a switch
had been thrown, it was as though he had never felt the chest pain to begin
with. Duo knelt down and hugged Bunny.
    “Thanks for seeing me off, Bunny,” Duo said softly, then let go of her.
    “You’d better do good,” Bunny threatened in a serious pout, “Or I’m not
going to let you play with my coloring books no more!”
    Duo’s smile grew. Bunny’s stern tone lifted his spirits, her threat like
Helen’s warnings, both full of love, but while Helen’s was created out of
concern and fear, Bunny’s was confident. She had trouble telling her colors
apart and always relied on Duo to help her, so he knew that, for her to
threaten that, she was sure he would succeed. Maybe it was just the words of a
five year old, but he took them to heart. If Bunny thought he could do it, he
told himself, then, dammit, he would. Kevin patted his shoulder.
    “Bunny’s right,” he said, intentionally leaving Helen’s advice out of it,
“All you have to worry about is doing your best. If you do that, none of us
will have anything to complain about.”
    Duo could feel their confidence in him filling his heart and making it
stronger. Maybe it was just in his imagination, but his heart beat felt normal,
instead of weak and stressed. It was the most comforting thing in the world, to
be told by someone you loved and trusted what you needed to do to be happy. It
was so much better than trying on your own, not sure and fearful, believing
that you were going to fail or worrying that you weren’t doing the right thing
at all. He vowed right then that he would do whatever it took for them to be
proud of him, the people he loved. He would be a good boy, do everything they
said and everything else would just work itself out.
    He was sure of it. He would, for the first time in his life, make the
people he loved proud of him.

*****

    Heero Yuy hated this school. Arendale High School. A boring name for a
boring institution, filled with boring teachers and boring students alike.
Nothing interesting ever happened here, or in any part of this town. Why his
father insisted that he and his brother went here, instead of some posh private
school, he had no idea. The Yuys were the richest family in town, their father
owning ninety percent of businesses and land. His father had told him once that
a private school would only distract him from his studies, his mind would grow
weak while surrounded by other rich boys and their perverted, pampered
interests. The thought made him smile. The man clearly had no idea about his
own children… certainly, going to school here hadn’t done a thing to lessen
distractions.
    Heero leaned against his locker, waiting for his brother, Quatre, with a
sense of deep boredom and eagerness for his return. His dark blue eyes scanned
the throng of students coming and going in the hallway, looking for something
new. His gaze targeted the freshman class. After three years of going to school
here, Heero knew most of these children’s faces and felt no interest in their
plainness. He needed to find something special, something he hadn’t seen a
hundred times in these bland hallways, but this year, it was eluding him. The
freshman were like carbon copies of the upperclassmen, just slightly more
timid. They noticed the tall boy standing at the lockers, wearing the leather
jacket, with dark brown hair that hung around his neck and framed his wolfish
face, his piercing blue eyes and rough haircut making him look like a predator
in their midst.
    They stayed far away from him, along with the older students, though mostly
because he looked like a bully, or perhaps a would-be rock star, the type of
boy that any caring parent would warn their child away from. The older students
stayed away from him and his brother because of their reputation. Heero and
Quatre Yuy were the wolves that they looked like, cold and predatory and, with
their wealth and lack of empathy, the kind of threat that no sane teenager
wanted to knock heads with. If they did, the two boys would only leave a smear
of the offender’s blood behind.
    Their reputations as cruel sociopaths was bolstered by their ability to
work together and their similar interests, something that everyone equated to
them being twins. If you messed with one of them, both of them would come after
you. They had solidified this rumor their freshman year, when a senior had made
fun of Quatre for being shorter than his brother. The next thing he knew, the
twins had broken his arm. When the principal had asked him which one had done
it, the boy had been unable to say anything, too afraid of them and their
father. Everyone knew that it was never just either of them who were involved
with a violation of school rules.
    “Heero!”
    Well, there was one person who was just plain too stupid to be scared of
him, Heero thought with an irritated sneer as a girl his age with long, dark
blonde hair, and light blue eyes wearing a low cut, white top with a short,
pale pink skirt ran to him. Another girl, a lot more subdued, with lighter
blonde hair and intense grey-blue eyes with forked eyebrows followed her, but
glared at Heero as though he were a blemish on the face of a handsome model.
Her expression made him smirk superiorly at her. Then, the other girl tried to
latch onto his arm and any amusement he felt bled away, replaced with acid hate
and disgust. He pulled his arm away from her, wanting her touch even less than
the smell of her flowery perfume on his skin.
    Relena Dorlian had been a thorn in Heero’s side since middle school. Ever
since they had met, she had been following him around like an untrained dog who
wanted to take a sniff of his crotch or hump his leg. When his father had found
out about it, his advice had been to court her, since the Dorlian’s were
wealthy, too, and Relena was subservient enough to make a good wife when Heero
got old enough, but Heero had no desire to marry any woman, let alone Relena,
and he definitely had no desire to obey his father about anything.
    Besides, he understood the difference between someone who was subservient
and someone who was a mindless bitch. He’d rather have a lover that rolled over
for him in bed, but still had a mind of their own than someone who would just
blindly do whatever he wanted. If he ever desired the latter, he could just get
a dog and a whore on the side. Heero was quite sure that a dog would be smarter
than Relena, and would leave less hair and slobber around the house.
    Heero almost smirked at that thought, but when Relena finally managed to
get her thin arms around him, the anger flared again. She was like a fucking
octopus, a brainless one that couldn’t take a goddamn hint. He wondered what
Relena would do if he told her that she had chosen the loser of the two
brothers, the one that his father ignored while doting on his younger, smarter
twin. The other girl, Relena’s best friend, Dorothy Catalonia, was smart enough
to hate Heero’s guts, but too scared of him to ever speak up.
    “Heeero,” Relena whined in what Heero wondered was supposed to be a hurt
tone, “I waited for hours last Friday for you! It was the restaurant I told you
about, that nice little French place. You know it’s rude to keep a lady
waiting,” she batted her long eyelashes at him, “I know you’re a guy and it’s
easy for you to forget things like dates and times, but you really should have
a book to right these things down!”
    She tightened her grip on his arm and he could feel her breasts digging
into him, like two flabby, warm marshmallows. It was disgusting.
    “I know!” she said brightly, as though she had come up with some ingenious
idea, something that Heero sincerely doubted, “Why don’t we go out tonight,
huh, Heero? Just you and me… we can see a movie… it’ll be dark… I’ll wear
something nice… something… small…”
    She lowered her voice seductively, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes.
Heero could feel his anger boiling over, but it wasn’t until she tried to touch
his face that he snapped. With a huff of frustration, he shoved her off of him
as hard as he could. Dorothy gasped as Relena almost slammed against the
locker, the blue-eyed girl looking up at Heero in complete betrayal.
    “I would rather fuck a goat then so much as hold your pathetic, sweaty
hand!” he snarled at her, “Why don’t you piss off, you stupid cunt! Or maybe
you would like to fuck my brother, instead? Is this what this is about?” he
sneered, “You just want to get close to him, don’t you? After all, he’s the one
whose going to inherit our father’s wealth. I’m just a stepping stone so you
can line your pockets!”
    Heero felt immensely satisfied  as Relena turned as white as a ghost, her
eyes widening with horror. He doubted that anyone had ever stood up to her in
their entire lives, let alone used language like that in front of her. Even
Dorothy looked shocked by his disgust for her friend. It was the same trick
that they used whenever one of them was in trouble or some relative was making
a pest of themselves. People were always so ashamed about their apparent,
sibling jealousy that they stepped over their own toes trying to make them feel
better about it.
    It had never worked with their father, not because he didn‘t believe in
their little guilt game, in fact, he seemed to encourage any rivalry between
them, fake or not, but because he didn’t care of hurting their feelings. He
always said that crying over the other‘s accomplishments made them weak. If one
was better than the other, they should one up them. If he didn’t realize it was
all a game to them, and they didn’t feel any rivalry at all between each other,
he didn’t show it. It was impossible for any rivalry to exist between them,
they were too alike. They had the same interests and similar personalities.
They could both be cruel, cold, and vindictive. They were both highly
intelligent, just in different ways. Besides, they had the same enemy.
    “T-that’s not true…” Relena protested, “You’re just as good as your
brother… I mean… besides your looks, you’re almost the same…”
    Heero nearly grit his teeth in fury. That was the one thing he never wanted
to hear. It was just a fucking excuse. Just because they were twins, it didn’t
mean that they were the same. Quatre liked science while Heero liked
technology. Heero watched action flicks and Quatre enjoyed dramas. Where Heero
was more straight forward, Quatre was cunning and analytical, one of the
reasons why their father had always favored him. Quatre was into pain games and
sadism. Heero liked bondage. Maybe some would say that those things were just
different sides of the same coin, all rooted to the same expressions and
feelings, but even if they were, just like Quatre and Heero were, they still
weren’t exactly the same and it was that difference that was more important
than the similarities. People would rather say that it was splitting hairs than
try to find out what those differences were.
    Heero remembered when they were kids, both he and Quatre had had the same
short hair style and his relatives had often said that they were like identical
twins, if it weren’t for their hair color, which wasn’t true. Heero had his
mother’s Japanese features, Quatre their father’s German-Arabian ones. They
both had blue eyes, but Quatre’s were more aqua and Heero’s were darker. Their
aunts had often called them the wolf and the angel. That was Quatre, their
beloved angel, the brilliant businessman, the tactician, and Heero, the
ruthless wolf, the animal who was only good with his hands and lowly interests
that wouldn’t matter in his father’s company. As his father often said: “Do you
want to be stuck in a cubicle all your life, Heero? Let the lowly technicians
to worry about firewalls and data. Computers are for sheep, strategies and
tactics are for the sharks.“
    Heero pushed the dull ache in his heart down and smiled as cruelly as he
could at Relena. He grabbed her chin in a harsh grip and leaned close to her.
    Relena closed her eyes and trembled with anticipation. He was going to kiss
her… she could feel his warm breath on her skin, his fingers harsh, but soft…
She had always been in love with Heero’s bad boy looks, the kind of boy that
would be a challenge, the sort that her parents had always warned her away
from, but she knew were so much more interesting than those dull, preppy boys
her mother tried to set her up with… true, Heero was her true love, but they
did act the same, so it was really those looks that set them apart… Heero’s
smile disappeared and his look turned colder, almost to something inhuman.
    “If we’re so similar, then it doesn’t matter if I’m the guy you supposedly
want to spread your legs and drop babies for, Quatre will do just fine, won’t
he?” he studied her icily, “But then again… if it doesn’t make a difference to
you, you’re not worth his time, either.”
    He let go of her chin and as she opened her mouth to protest, Heero felt
the last straw fall on his shoulders.
    “Get the fuck out of my sight, stupid bitch!” he roared at her.
    Relena made a small sound like a whimper, then bolted, Dorothy at her
heels, this time not even glaring back at the furious boy. Heero blew a
frustrated breath, the whoosh of air blowing his chocolate bangs up. He glanced
to his other side, away from the two departing girls, and saw Quatre walking
towards him. Heero immediately felt relief, the way he always felt when they
were reunited after being separated from his twin. Quatre had an amused grin on
his face and when he got close, started to clap.
    “That was beautiful,” he said gleefully.
    Heero glared at him. Quatre put his hands up in mock surrender.
    “No, really,” the younger twin said, “That was simply beautiful. I mean,
really, the look on her face when you said “if it doesn‘t make a difference to
you”, man, that was priceless! And when you called her a cunt,” he burst out
laughing, “I thought she was gonna piss herself!”
    Heero snorted at him, cupping his hands under his head as he leaned back
against the locker.
    “In other words, you were just standing there watching the whole time,” he
said dryly.
    “Oh, I’m sorry,” Quatre said in false wonderment, “Should I have helped
out?”
    “It would have been nice,” Heero murmured, “Then you could be the one to be
stalked by some blonde bitch.”
    “I knew you could handle it,” his brother said, “You’re going to have to
learn how to deal without me at some point.”
    Heero raised an eyebrow at Quatre. The statement was utterly ridiculous as
Heero had spent his life doing his ‘big brother’ duty, getting Quatre out of
trouble and sometimes, taking his punishment for him. Sure, he was only older
by an hour, but that was just another difference between them. Quatre was quite
content with making mischief and slacking off all day while Heero was more
responsible.
    “What are you talking about?” Heero asked incredulously, “You know that as
soon as we graduate, we’re just going to move in together. Even if we both get
lovers, we’re staying together forever.”
    That was The Plan. Graduate high school, get into some out of state
college, preferably across the continent, find an apartment of their very own.
Get away from their father as fast and as far as possible. What happened after
that didn’t matter. They were never going to be separated. They had figured
that out and had come up with The Plan when they had been seven years old, one
night laying in their bed under the covers, using flashlights to look at
college listings and trying to find the one that was the furthest away from
where they lived. Together, with the person, or people, that they loved,
without their meddling father to muck up their lives. It was the fucking
American Dream.
    Quatre pressed himself against the same arm that Relena had been wrapped
around just seconds earlier, and put his head on Heero’s shoulder.
    “Damn straight,“ Quatre murmured.
    Heero wondered if Quatre choosing that side was self conscious. Quatre’s
warmth quickly replaced Relena’s lingering one and Heero felt his residual
anger fade.
    “So,” Heero asked, letting hope into his heart, “Have we found any prey,
yet?”
    This was what he needed. A hunt after some delectable prey, something to
sink his teeth into and forget his anxiety about his father, about being
separated from his brother, about Relena… he needed something to feel happy
about for once. Quatre sighed loudly, getting off of his twin.
    “No,” he said mournfully, “I scoped out the doors, but nothing interesting
so far. Just the same drab, boring cattle.”
    Heero’s hope diminished and he could feel a headache coming on. The entire
year was depending on this. It was the most important part, even more important
than the stalking, to find that one person that stood out from the rest.
Someone who would be open to their very special idea of fun. They might
struggle at first, maybe even try to run. Maybe they might succeed, for a
little while, but the twins always got their kill. That was part of the fun,
having a struggler and watching them submit. They always submitted, but that
was because Quatre and Heero were careful with who they picked. They had
standards.
    It had to be a boy, a loner. They couldn’t be straight or plain. It was a
serious turn off to fuck someone who couldn’t even get it up or thought it was
disgusting. Rape wasn’t really their thing, not in the literal sense, anyway.
In the end, their prey always spread their legs for them, no matter how much
they fought in the beginning. That Quatre hadn’t been able to find anyone that
fit that criteria was depressing. If it weren’t for this little game of theirs,
Heero was sure he would have died from boredom and repression by now.
    “We could pick someone plain,” Quatre predicted, his green-blue eyes
searching the crowd the same way that his brother’s were.
    “No,” Heero snapped irritably, “This is our last year at this school. It
doesn’t just have to be someone interesting, it has to be someone special.”
    Quatre nodded, having not liked his suggestion anyway. They never settled
for less than what they wanted, it wasn’t their way. He narrowed his eyes at
his brother and smiled slyly at him. He had his own theory about why Heero
wanted the perfect prey.
    “You’re jealous, aren’t you?” Quatre half teased, putting his hands behind
his head, miming Heero’s earlier pose, “You’re jealous that I turned the game
into something more and you want to see if you can do it, too.”
    Heero frowned at Quatre’s smug tone.
    “Don’t be stupid,” he growled, “I don’t take love so offhandedly as that.
If I do fall in love with someone, then it was meant to be. If I don’t, I’m not
going to force myself into a relationship, either.”
    Quatre smirked at him. This was something that he had always loved about
his brother. The two of them could have anyone they wanted, all they had to do
was point, but Heero took everything so seriously, the game, falling in love…
Quatre always let things fall the way they were, hardly ever trying to change,
but Heero was the planner. He knew what he wanted and went for it, even if it
was impossible. Nothing less would do. Quatre was used to getting his way, and
he enjoyed it, but he could still negotiate. He liked to negotiate, to analyze
and map out the situation to his liking. Heero was more like a charging bull.
It was endearing, watching his twin brother be jealous of Quatre’s new found
lover, desperate, but not pathetic about finding his own. Usually, they were
completely dependent of each other, but since last year, they had learned that
there could be something deeper in their lives.
    “I’m not jealous,” Heero muttered, “I’m just… bored.”
    That was true enough. Boredom had haunted him for most of his life. He and
Quatre might be rich, but their childhood had been far from perfect. No one had
been more disappointed by their birth than their father, a strict, and often
cold, businessman who had only married their mother out of need for a child to
take over the business when he retired. Their mother hadn’t loved the man,
either, but her parents had pushed her into the marriage. She had been
beautiful, smart, and had come from a respected family, so the match had looked
perfect on the outside. However, though she had held no love for her husband,
she had loved her sons.
    Heero knew the story from their nanny when he was a little boy. Their
father had been so sure that his wife would bear him what he needed, a single
son. The man was like that, arrogant, thinking that everyone around him would
give him simply what he required from them. His wife had been one of the few
people that had defied this expectation. Instead of just one identical copy of
himself, he got Heero and Quatre, two boys instead of just one. What was more
infuriating, Heero took after their mother instead of him, a pretty Japanese
woman with long brown hair that was so dark, it seemed to morph between brown
and black, and dark blue eyes, her skin the same tan shade as Heero‘s. The only
resemblance he had to their father was his above average height and cutthroat
personality. It seemed almost a miracle that Quatre shared his father’s golden
hair, blue-green eyes, and pale skin, though his love for literature and dramas
had come directly from his mother. It had been a popular joke among their
father’s employees and family that his wife was so head strong that she, like
the Virgin Mary, hadn’t needed a man’s help to create her twin sons.
    It would have been easier for everyone if only one of them had been born.
The way their father had seen it, he could only pick one heir, so two children
was just inconvenient. Their mother had created a barrier between them and
their father, refusing to let the man control them or stop them from enjoying
their childhood. That had stopped when their mother had died when they had been
seven years old. Her heart had always been weak, but between her duties around
the house, her trying to raise them without her husband’s help, and her
constant fighting with him, her heart had finally given out. The way the
servants told the tale, it was as though their father’s coldness, and the
absence of love in her life, had grown roots around her heart and, little by
little, she had been choked to death.
    The maids seemed to find this idea romantic, of a woman who had needed love
so badly, she had died without it, but it only made Heero feel cold inside.
Sometimes, she was all that he could think about and other times, it was hard
to remember her face without looking at a picture of her. After her death,
there had been no one to protect the two of them from their father. He had
never been outright abusive, just neglectful in the ways that children really
needed from a parent. Their remaining childhood had been strict under the gaze
of their overbearing father. Instead of playing with toys, they studied and
took lessons and tests from handpicked tutors. The man was still a pain in the
ass. Anything below perfect wouldn’t be good enough, for either of them. Every
time they got into trouble, it got a thousand times worse, though he had always
been more lenient with Quatre.
    It wasn’t hard to see why. Quatre looked like their father’s son and Heero
looked like he had been adopted. Quatre understood business and was brilliant
with his studies. Heero preferred computers and mechanics and had no real taste
for money and business negotiations. As puberty had hit, Quatre had kept his
bangs short and Heero’s had let his grow out, he had grown taller with wider
shoulders than his brother. Quatre’s eyes had remained wide, Heero’s angular.
What little they had had in common physically had vanished, but they had
remained the angel and the wolf.
    Their father had turned it all into a game, a competition between the two
brothers. If one brother did better than the other, he would be given whatever
he wanted, while the other would be punished. Their father had always pushed
them to be better than they could be, to push the other brother down in the mud
just to get ahead. He hadn’t counted on their brotherly bond becoming stronger
as their hatred for their father had grown. They had played their own little
game, switching their tests so their tutors never knew which twin had answered
correctly. They would copy each other’s papers, cheat, and bully their tutors
until they quit. At the end of every day, they had ended up equal, which had
made their father furious. They had made very sure that neither of them was
better than the other, even in high school, down to the last point. It wasn’t
as fun as the hunt, but it was quite enjoyable watching their usually calm and
collected father turn that very special shade of bright red.
    He supposed their childhood had started the Hunt, before it had ever
entered their minds. After their mother’s death, their toys had been locked
away and the only time they got what game systems or other toys that they
wanted was when they exceeded their father’s expectations, which was rare. They
had spent their childhood cursed with desires they could never satisfy. When
they hit puberty, their need for some kind of entertainment stimulation had
turned into the need for sexual satisfaction. Like their childhood desires,
their carnal ones could never really be satisfied. They had fucked a few of
their maids before realizing how unsatisfactory it was. It hadn’t taken long to
figure out that it wasn’t the blushing servant girls that they wanted to
dominate.
    It had been endlessly frustrating and Heero had felt like he had been
walking around with a mental erection, and often a physical one, for the past
five years, which no pussy or warm hand or mouth could soothe away. Even the
servant boys hadn’t worked. They were more than willing to suck cock, and very
few would take it up the ass for a raise, but anything more than that and they
become squeamish. They were all so dull and pathetic. Heero had found what he
wanted at age thirteen, when he had stumbled upon a website featuring pretty
boys, tied up in equally pretty ways, begging. When he had shown Quatre some of
the pictures, he quickly realized that they had one more thing in common. The
problem was now they had a name for the disease that had been plaguing them,
but still no way to satisfy it.
    Their first year of high school, they had found an outlet for their sexual
frustrations, as well as their frustrations about their family and future.
Amidst their father’s unbendable plans for them and the expectations that had
been placed on their heads at birth, to always be perfect and well behaved, but
also creative and cutthroat, the hunt was the only thing that kept Heero sane
and interested in the world around him. If it weren’t for that outlet, he would
probably be snorting cocaine and robbing convenience stores just for the thrill
of it. The summer without that game had been torture. It was all he could think
about as his father lectured him to be more assertive with his studies, who
would be their next prey? Would he fight them? How would his insides feel? So,
hearing his brother say that he couldn’t find anyone made him feel agitated,
like his bones were trying to jump out of his skin. He yearned to feel that
passion that he had felt every year since their freshman year.
    Heero smirked as he thought about that very first year. It had been like a
giant light going off in his heart, telling him what he needed. Showing him
that happiness was possible, that he wasn’t worthless like his father thought.
When their prey looked at him with anticipation and excitement, he could feel
the stress and boredom leave him. Their first prey had been… very special.
Heero and Quatre, though having known Relena Dorlian since they had been kids,
had never met her older brother, Zechs before then. Zechs had been gorgeous,
putting his younger sister to shame. With the tall, well-muscled body of a
basketball player, long hair that had been a billowing white, like a cloud of
snow, crystalline blue eyes, and pale skin, the twins had been practically
drooling at the sight of him.
    The fact that they were hunting Heero’s stalker’s brother had been the
cherry on top of it all. That the man had spread his legs for them and Relena
had never found out about it had been the best sort of revenge for her constant
pestering. That was how the hunt had started, with the both of them lusting
equally after Zechs and some sort of control over their lives. Their father
could force them to get good grades and be miserable, but he had absolutely no
control over who they had sex with. Or how. They hadn’t been sure of themselves
that first time. Was Zechs straight or gay? Would he consider it rape and get
them in trouble, or would he be into it? The possibility that he might
struggle, but secretly like it, like the boys on that website had aroused them
every time they had considered it.
    Zechs had been a senior at the time and had seen the twins just as little
boys, one of whom his sister was in heat over, which the white-haired teenager
had been offended about for Heero’s sake. It hadn’t been easy trying to
approach the tall athlete, since Zechs had had different classes than them and
had always been with a small group of friends. Since then, they had made the
rule to only go after loners, since they were easier to catch and less likely
to bolt. They had stalked Zechs for weeks, bolstered when, by chance another
boy had hit on Zechs and the blue eyed boy had blushed, not in embarrassment or
disgust, but interest. At least he had potential, they had thought. Finally,
they had managed to corner him in a classroom after basketball practice, like
wolves after a buck, careful and meticulous.
    After pushing him onto the teacher’s desk, they had teased him mercilessly,
pushing fingers between his soft ass cheeks and wrapping a hand around his hot
cock, trying to see if he was really the one that they wanted, that he would
react to them. Heero didn’t know why exactly, but there was something about
rough sex, the violence and force behind it, that turned him on. It wasn’t
forcing himself on another person, it was awakening their sexuality and having
them need him, submit to him.
    There was no better feeling than watching a boy who had fought against them
experience pleasure they never had before at his hands. It made him feel
important. It made him feel in control. And better yet… to do those extreme,
sexual things and have them trust him with their bodies and pleasure. He
thought that his brother loved that, too, the submission. They had agreed the
very first time they had thought of the game that, if they ever found someone
who wasn’t aroused by them, fighting against them or not, they would let them
go. There was no entertainment in fucking a boy who had a limp dick, or someone
who was as mindless as Relena.
    Zechs had been perfect. He fought them the first three times they had come
for him, but by the time they really started on him, he had always been panting
and begging for it. After those first three times, Zechs had finally submitted
to them, had come to them a few times. That moment when he had gotten onto his
knees to suck Quatre’s cock without being told to had been an eye opener for
them. Their game worked, both for them and their prey. Maybe that was arrogant
to assume so, but Zechs’s cries of pleasure had been the proof of that. He had
only really realized that he was truly gay and addicted to their new-found game
that first time when he had slipped his hard cock into Zechs’s ass and the ice
eyed man had given out a long, deep moan. He had realized that what he wanted
was a willing toy, someone to explore and teach. He had realized who he was in
that moment.
    They had both become depressed that year when summer had began and Zechs
had graduated. They had eagerly decided to find a new prey the next year. They
had spent long nights together, talking about the hunt, what they would do to
their next prey, what things that they had done to Zechs that they had liked
the best. They had eventually decided to find new prey at the start of every
year, until they graduated. Their next target had been a repressed boy with a
fiery temper named Wufei Chang. He had been a junior, but had just transferred
to their town from China. As a new kid with a thick accent, he hadn’t made any
friends by the time they started to stalk him. Wufei had been self defensive,
but lonely and, oddly, rather shy.
    Compared to the pale skinned, haired, and eyed European descendents of
their town, Wufei had truly been an individual with his shoulder length, silky
black hair and black, almond shaped eyes and tanned skin. He had been short,
but with long, powerful legs for his size. Heero knew that from experience,
having had a few strong kicks delivered his way. Unlike Zechs, the transfer
student had never come to them, he had even refused to admit that he was gay.
Heero wasn’t sure what it was, just stubbornness, or if he was too traditional
and had wanted to latch on to the lie that it was rape. And it had been a lie,
since as soon as their hands had been on him, Wufei had become aroused and had
begged for it, just like Zechs had. After the first five or six times, Wufei
had stopped fighting them, but he had never submitted, unfortunately.
    Last year had been… different. Typically, they decided on the prey
together, but last year, Quatre had chosen all on his own and had insisted only
this boy would do. Heero had known how odd it was for Quatre to be that
stubborn, at least towards him, and had been curious about why only this boy
would do for his brother, but once he had seen him, he had agreed. Trowa Barton
was in their grade, a junior at the time, the tallest boy in school, even
amongst the, at the time, seniors.
    Personality wise, he was very plain. He was quiet and well-behaved. He
always sat in the corner of every classroom, diligently writing notes. He was a
jock, involved in every sport the school had to offer, but had no friends
outside of the team, given how quiet he was. Beyond his boring personality,
though, Trowa, like Wufei and Zechs, was gorgeous with a long, lean body, a
shock of light brown, almost red hair that fell over his green eyes. His skin
was pale and on both arms and shoulders were black, tribal tattoos in an
abstract design that looked like ash and smoke turned into solid, sharp shapes
going down to the insides of his wrists. He also always had three tiny silver
rings going through his ear lobe and a silver bar at the top ridge of his ear,
telling anyone that Trowa didn’t mind pain.
    They had stalked Trowa for one whole day, pinning him easily behind the
bleachers on the football field. He hadn’t put up any sort of a fight,
literally bending over the second he had realized what they wanted. He was the
first of their conquests to do so. He was also the first to enjoy pain, in any
form, which Quatre had been excited about. Afterwards, Trowa had actually
volunteered to be their prey, his voice heavy with the same excitement as
Heero’s brother. They had all had a long talk sitting behind the benches,
Trowa’s ass dripping their cum onto the warm grass. Trowa had submitted to them
so easily because, he had confessed shyly, he had had a crush on Quatre since
their freshman year together, but had never had the balls to say anything. He
had heard about the hunt in rumors from others in their class and had been
interested in seeing if they were true.
    By the enamored look on Quatre’s face, Heero had quickly figured out that
the reason why Quatre had insisted on stalking Trowa was because, he, too, had
had a crush on the tall boy and had wanted to use the game to find out if Trowa
liked boys, too. Watching the two of them looking at each other with this soft,
amazed look in their eyes, a look that Heero had never seen from Quatre before,
created a deep pain inside of Heero. They had spent their entire lives
pretending to be an island, just the two of them, with everyone else visitors
or trespassers, but even as a child, Heero had understood that the world wasn’t
like that. Sooner or later, one of them would have to leave that island. Was it
so selfish to have thought it would be him and not his brother? Trowa had
seemed like an intruder on their relationship, but Heero couldn’t be bitter
about it. The tall boy made his brother happy and it wasn’t like they had
stopped being twins. He just had to learn to share, even if that wasn’t so
easy.
    Since then, Heero had learned some very important things. He had learned
that Trowa wasn’t really quiet, he just didn’t understand why he should be
friendly and smile with people who weren’t his friends. And he did have a very
nice smile. He also had the same sick sense of humor that Quatre did. They also
shared equal, insatiable sexual appetites. They were a good pair. Heero had
also learned that, not only was he capable of sharing his twin brother with
Trowa, he yearned to be the one being shared with someone special, too. He
often wondered how his father would react when they told him that they had no
interest in being with women and had no intention of succeeding the company
after him. He would probably die of a heart attack, if they were really lucky.
    “Quatre!” as though summoned just by Heero’s thoughts, Trowa appeared
through the crowd, a head above everyone else, his height like a beacon.
    Quatre immediately brightened at the sight of his lover, like a puppy
seeing his master, only with them, their roles were reversed.
    “You forgot your lunch,” Trowa said with a soft smile, handing Quatre a
brown, paper bag.
    Quatre had stayed the night at Trowa’s small apartment. He did that
whenever Trowa’s sister, his legal guardian, left town, which was often. The
place was unfitting for a Yuy, but Quatre often called the home refreshing,
compared to their own large house. Heero had covered for him with their father,
saying that he was putting in some extra hours studying, nearly snickering at
their father’s satisfied look, knowing full well that Quatre and Trowa were
probably fucking like rabbits and cuddling as he lied.
    He also knew that Trowa had made that lunch himself and Heero thought that
a lunch made by the man you loved had to taste better than a meal cooked by a
five star chef. He wondered if he would ever experience that, a boyfriend
remembering to pack his lunch for him. He watched as Trowa leaned down to kiss
Quatre passionately, neither of them caring that they were in a crowded
hallway, swapping spit. Trowa touched Quatre’s shoulder possessively, humming
happily. By the time they separated, they were being looked at by several
classmates and teachers with disgust, but those people quickly went on their
way. If Quatre had been anyone else, or if Trowa’s height wasn’t so imposing, a
brutal fight would have ensued. They were lucky, really, to have their father’s
name and power. In this town, homosexuals weren’t exactly treated with dignity
and respect.
    “Thanks, love,” Quatre said with a bright smile.
    “Any luck today?” Trowa asked, his green eyes, the bright color of clovers,
darting to Heero.
    “None,” Heero said, folding his arms over his chest in annoyance as he was,
yet again, reminding of the dire situation.
    Quatre had gotten lucky with having Trowa for a boyfriend. The brunette
knew about the hunt and he also knew that they weren’t going to stop for his
sake. He didn’t seem to mind it at all, wanting a play by play of their plan
and seeming almost as eager as they did. He supposed that, in Trowa’s mind,
Quatre finding new prey wasn’t so much cheating as it was finding a new pet.
You couldn’t cheat if your heart wasn’t in it. It was a wise position for Trowa
to take. It ensured that he wouldn’t get hurt and their relationship wouldn’t
suffer. Trowa grinned as he caught Heero’s amused expression. He kissed
Quatre’s nose.
    “Well, if you do find someone, maybe you’ll let me join in, huh?” he said,
his voice half teasing, half serious.
    Heero smirked. Or maybe Trowa was so much like Quatre that he really was as
eager as them to find a playmate. It might be interesting, letting the tall boy
in on the hunt.
    “Hey, Trowa!” a boy in a basketball uniform called out from the other side
of the hallway, looking rushed and irritated with the romantic display, “You
volunteered to help the freshman around, remember?”
    Trowa huffed, not wanting to go.
    “You volunteered to lead the sheep?” Quatre asked with a wry grin.
    “It seemed like the kind thing to do at the time,” Trowa grumbled, then
smirked at his lover, “But I can keep an eye out for fresh meat for you while
I’m at it.”
    This seemed to make Quatre happy again and they kissed one last time before
Trowa was running to join the other boy. Heero watched as his brother looked at
Trowa’s retreating ass with an almost depressed expression. Seeing him like
that, Heero thought that, maybe, having a boyfriend wasn’t so great. Sooner or
later, their father was going to find out about them. But… sooner or later, he
was going to find out about The Plan, anyway, right? Heero could never admit it
to his brother, but… he was jealous of him and Trowa. If the hunt was their
ultimate high, their addiction, then love had to be even better than that,
right? After all, Quatre had just taken the hunt a step beyond, turning it long
term.
    Love was intense, chaotic, and passionate, all the things that they felt
during the hunt, but Heero had yet to really experience at that level. When he
graduated, he probably wouldn’t be able to play the hunt anymore, but Quatre
wouldn’t have to face that because he had Trowa, he had the thing in his life
that kept him interested and happy. All Heero had was Quatre and this game. He
wanted to meet that someone that would make him feel special and interested in
each day, like Quatre had. They were twins, right? So, why was it so easy for
Quatre to meet that person, but Heero had yet to feel anything like that for
anyone?
    If he could have nothing else, what he wanted was to find someone who
wouldn’t make him feel like just a lesser copy of his brother, the way his
father had. He wanted to be someone else’s world, he wanted to be their master.
He wanted to give his heart to someone who trusted him, where everyone else
thought he was a screw up or wasn’t good enough. If he could find that person…
he knew that nothing else would matter.


End Chapter 1

***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     Duo struggles to get through his first day of school without an
     attack. When Duo encounters a cruel teacher, Quatre comes to his
     rescue. But his motives aren't nearly as kind as they appear.
Chapter 2: Stalking

    Ever since the church had brought him in when he was six, Duo had sat in on
ever sermon, every mass, every lecture that Father Maxwell had given to the
other orphans. He had soaked it all up when he had been younger, how a good boy
was supposed to behave, all the things that would send him to hell and all the
things that God, along with Father Maxwell and Sister Helen, would love him
for. Father Maxwell had often talked about a hot, fiery hell, where demons and
your worst nightmares tormented you for the rest of eternity. But, Duo now knew
what his hell would look like, and it had nothing to do with flames of heat.
Hell would be walking into an unfamiliar place and suddenly have the eyes of
every person on him, like flames of their own burning into his soul. Hell was
wondering if they were thinking cruel things about his strange colored eyes, if
they were planning on coming up to talk to him.
    Hell was stumbling around, being surrounded by his fellow classmates, to
the front office and trying to ask for his schedule and where his first class
was, but all he could do was stutter uselessly. The stutter didn’t happen a
lot, mostly when he was very embarrassed and stressed, but it made things worse
for him as he knew what an idiot he sounded like. The lady handing out the
schedules had understood, though, and had taken pity on him, simply asking for
his last name, then handing him the piece of paper. He had then stumbled back
out, feeling like a complete moron, and trying not to let any of the other kids
touch him as he pushed through the crowd.
    Thankfully, it wasn’t very hard to find his homeroom. He could still feel
eyes on him as he walked, but kept his head down and pretended to be
concentrating on his schedule. Maybe, if everyone thought he was busy reading,
they wouldn’t try to talk to him. He finally looked away from his schedule as
he found the fifth classroom from the bathrooms, just like the lady at the
front office had said. It was a mirror image of the classrooms he had seen on
television, a blackboard at the front, a large teacher’s desk, about twenty
smaller desks, some occupied, and the room covered with posters and past
student projects. Several of the other teenagers looked up as he entered, the
conversations dropping into silence.
    Duo could feel his chest starting to hurt and immediately kept his eyes to
the floor, walking quickly to the closest free desk he could get to, up against
the wall near the door. A quick exit was exactly what he needed. What he
wanted, though, was one of the desks near the window, so he could look outside,
but that was too far away. He would have to pass by other students to get there
and the anxiety of that was too much for him. The desk chair reminded him of
the chairs in the kitchen of the church, all hard and uncomfortable to sit on,
but sturdy. He put his schedule on the desk and just stared at it, once again
praying to God to just, please, make the other kids stop staring at him. The
only thing worse than the staring were the whispers that were barely whispers
at all, no one caring to hide the fact that they were gossiping about him.
    “… never seen him around before…”
    “… what is up with that dorky hat?”
    “… what’s wrong with his eyes?”
    “… Man, those clothes… does he think he’s a hobo or somethin’?”
    Duo focused on his schedule with an obsessive intensity as he could feel a
feverish blush spread across his pale face. He wished that he was a girl, that
he could have long hair without it looking so weird and let it drape around
him, let it hide him from the world. Homeroom, he read off the piece of paper,
was in the same block as Biology, so they must be the same, or in the same room
or something. A laugh that he knew was aimed at him made his heart constrict
painfully.
    ‘Please, oh, please, God, don’t let me have an attack, not here,’ he
prayed, ‘That will just make them think I’m even weirder.’
    Duo had never had the intention of making friends here, but the snickers
from his classmates were still painful. The life of a loner was both comforting
and sad to him. He continued to read, wishing he had brought a book or
something, but that would probably just make them laugh harder. ‘Look at the
dumb bookworm!’ Next was Literature and Grammar. Why couldn’t they just call
that English? That one might be hard. He wasn’t mentally challenged, but he had
always had a hard time remembering the words for words, like verbs and
adjectives and stuff.
    Third period, European history, fourth period, Algebra, that one would be
fun. He would never admit it, though. Kevin always said that he was good with
numbers, but that if he ever told someone that, they might call him a geek.
Teenagers weren’t supposed to be good at math, but numbers and equations had
always seemed comforting to him. Either you got an answer right or wrong, it
was all black and white. And there was always an answer, unlike with art or
literature, which was all what you thought of something. Numbers didn’t lie,
they had set values, they could only be what was in their nature to be, unlike
people, who you could never really understand. Best of all, everything in the
world needed math to work. That was an even more comforting thought to him,
that he might be good at something that someone else needed.
    Not really, a doubting voice in his head sneered at him. Someone will
always be better than you. Among a bunch of kids and uneducated orphans, you
might be good at something. Here, you’re just a dumb shit, the same six year
old that your daddy called a good for nothing. Duo chewed on his lip, feeling
his heart rate increase and the pain deepen. Fifth period, Music Choice. What
the hell was Music Choice? He hoped that he wouldn’t have to sing or read sheet
music. The only instrument he knew how to play was the piano and, sometimes,
Sister Helen let him play for services. He had played during quite a few
funerals and wasn’t that bad at it, but he was too self-conscious to try to
sing in front of anyone and he could only play by ear. If he heard someone else
play something, or heard it on the radio, he could repeat it, but had no idea
what those black dots and lines were supposed to be.
    Sixth period, Drawing and Painting, seventh period, Gym. Duo breathed in
relief. His doctor’s note felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket. Just
another reason for his classmates to think that he was a freak, but at least he
wouldn’t have to deal with it until the end of the day. As he kept his eyes
trained on the paper, trying to memorize what classrooms each was in, Duo
realized that the room was starting to become full with other kids, almost all
of the seats taken. He glanced at a few in the corner of his eye. A lot of them
were wearing t-shirts with almost offensive slogans and designer jeans. Most of
the girls were attached at the hand to a shiny cellphone, texting or talking
loudly. Duo had never seen one outside of the television or in the hands of
some stranger. Not even Kevin had a cheap one.
    It made him feel self-conscious again as he quickly realized that he could
never really have anything in common with these kids. They had clothes that he
could never hope to afford, easy going smiles, and almost pompous attitudes.
Hell, they had parents. A real home. They probably had pets and, in a few
years, would be handed the keys to their own cars. For his own driver’s test,
if he had one, Duo would have to drive Father Maxwell’s ancient, beat up
Toyota, just like Kevin. Being friends with people like that seemed impossible
to him. Before long, a woman walked into the room, a large, canvas bag slung
off of one shoulder. She walked to the large desk at the front of the room and
put the heavy bag on the flat surface. She smiled bubbly at everyone and the
teenagers, little by little, sat down, quieting just a little bit.
    “Hello, class!” she said in a chipper tone that Duo wasn’t familiar with.
    His classmates echoed back their hellos, but Duo stayed quiet. He didn’t
really know what to expect here, just that this was his teacher and he should
respect her. A few of the other freshman even seemed to know her name, maybe
from older siblings. Duo hunched in on himself. His heart sped up again. The
teacher launched into a long spiel about how much fun they were going to have
together, that she expected them to be on their best behavior, but if they had
a question, not to be afraid of coming to her. Duo doubted all of it. Thick
textbooks were handed out to everyone and Duo spent the next few minutes
flipping through his. It was different from the textbooks Sister Helen had used
to teach him, thicker and without scribbles on the margins or pictures.
    “Now, then,” the teacher said brightly, clapping her hands together, “Since
this is your first day at high school, I want to us to spend some time getting
to know each other. I’m Mrs. Donnell,” she introduced herself, putting a hand
on her chest, and her smile widening, “and my favorite thing to do in my spare
time is to work on my vegetable garden.”
    Duo was really starting to hate this teacher and her too sweet smile.
    “I want all of you to stand up, tell us your name, and the one thing you
love to do more than anything. We’ll start here,” she gestured at the first
row, near that window.
    Duo felt his heart plummet into his stomach, all the while squeezing and
pounding, a sharp pain filling him. He had to stand up in front of all these
people and actually speak? They were all going to look at him… look at him and
judge him by whatever he said… what he liked to do most? What should he say?
How should he introduce himself? Would he make an idiot of himself? The first
boy in the first row stood up.
    “My name is Jason Royles and I like to play football!” he said with a
beaming smile.
    So easy, without a care, just… blurting that out… Why couldn’t it be that
easy for him? One by one, each freshman stood and spoke the same way, like it
was nothing at all, as Duo’s heart started to beat faster and faster with each
classmate that went closer to his turn. What should he say, what should he say…
    ‘Hi, my name is Duo Maxwell and my favorite thing to do in my spare time is
teach Bunny, a five year old who lives at the orphanage with me, how to count.
I also enjoy reading to her and taking car rides with Kevin. He’s another
orphan…’
    Duo felt his heart restrict in a twisting motion that he knew wasn’t
actually happening, it just felt that way. It sounded stupid, even in his head,
even if it was the truth. Football, painting, hanging out with friends,
listening to music… those answers sounded a thousand times more normal and
exciting than his. Hell, it would sound stupid even if he lied and said that
Bunny was his little sister. Who liked hanging out with little kids anyway?
    But, he felt so good when he spent time with her and taught her things. She
would smile up at him so brightly, so happy, so completely unaware of the scar
on her face, unlike how he saw his hair or his eyes, and Duo would feel happy,
too. Or when he and Kevin were just driving around, not having any place to go
like these kids, to the movies or a friend’s house, just listening to rock
music on the radio and driving. But if he said that, he would get laughed at…
before he knew it, the girl in front of him was standing up, saying her name
and something about her computer. It was his turn. A sharp pain stabbed at his
heart. He could feel its beats in his head. One, two, three, faster than it
should be.
    Duo stumbled to his feet and his sneaker slammed against one of the legs of
the desk. He tripped, but managed to right himself as he grabbed at the desk
desperately. The room erupted with laughter. One, two… three. His heart skipped
a beat, then another, before finally returning to its maddening pace. His chest
hurt with this intense pressure.
    “Settle down,” Mrs. Donnell snapped at her students, suddenly not looking
so bubbly.
    Duo’s body shook as he felt mocking eyes on him. This was wrong. He needed
to say something. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to be doing
now? Right… his name… Duo Jordan… no… that was the wrong one, it was the other
one now… God, why was this so hard? Couldn’t He just give him a hint?
    “M-m-my na-a-me is…” Duo breathed hard, feeling his face turning a
brilliant red as a few students snickered at his stuttering.
    The words wouldn’t come to him. His throat convulsed with his heart. One…
…. Two…
    “…Duo… M… Maxwell,” he finally managed to speak, but felt no relief from
it.
    There was something else he was supposed to say, he knew that, but his
throat closed down again and his lungs wouldn’t cooperate. He was going to
throw up. His stomach clenched with his heart. Would it stop? He hated this. He
didn’t want to be here. He wanted to go home, where he was loved and no one
made fun of him and he never, ever stuttered. This was a bad idea. He never
should have come here. Home schooled was fine. Why was he here? He never wanted
to come back here…
    Duo saw the teacher gesture to the person behind him, eager to move on, not
out of kindness for his embarrassment, but out of irritation. Shame filled him.
He couldn’t even stand up and say one full sentence . He was so pathetic…
    “What a freak,” he heard a girl next to him whisper to another girl and
felt dizzy all of a sudden.
    Duo spent the rest of Biology concentrating on the teacher’s voice and
trying to steady his breath, feeling utterly miserable at his failure. He
couldn’t do this. He was going to fail, every day here. He would let his
classmates get to him, just like he had let those orphans get to him his first
nights at the church, he would have heart failure and get bad grades… he would
have to go home today and tell everyone that he had failed. He couldn’t go to
school. Sister Helen had been right. They would all be so disappointed in him;
Sister Helen, Father Maxwell, Bunny, and Kevin… that was the worst part,
knowing that he would go home and would have to see that look in their eyes,
them realizing that he wasn’t worthy to be there, to be loved by them. He had
screwed up, again, story of his life.
    Duo came back to reality as he heard the teacher drone on about how they
would spend the rest of homeroom and biology taking the placement tests for
science and that the results of these tests would determine if they stayed in
this class or not, though the textbook would stay the same. She explained that
most of them would stay in this class, which was average, but others would be
stuck in remedial or advanced classes, depending on their scores. Duo clutched
at his jeans, feeling his hands trembling a little. If he really was going to
give up, he should leave right now. What was the point of taking a placement
test if he wasn’t going to stay? He didn’t want to be told that he was below
average anyway. Suddenly, like a ringing shot, Duo heard Father Maxwell’s voice
in his head, loud and clear.
    “Duo… what is it that you want?”
    What was it that he wanted…
    “All you have to worry about is doing your best. If you do that, none of us
will have anything to complain about.”
    Duo unclenched his hands. He took a deep, slow breath and focused slowly on
his beating heart, feeling the tension and pain leave him, little by little. He
wanted to make Sister Helen proud of him. He wanted to be a good boy and prove
to her that she had made the right decision in adopting him. He wanted to do
his best and prove to everyone, even himself, that he was worth it. He couldn’t
do that if he gave up now. If he did, he would only be reinforcing all his
deepest fears about himself, that he was just a worthless screw up. That all
the bad things in his life were his fault.
    “You will be given the results of the tests by the end of this class,” Mrs.
Donnell was saying, “Below average is zero to fifty points. Average is fifty-
one to seventy-five. Above average is seventy-six to one-hundred. If you
receive below or above average scores, you will be required to visit the front
office for a new room assignment at the end of the day. Be advised that you
will be taking similar placement tests in your grammar and math classes.”
     A unified groan filled the room and Duo nearly joined them. He didn’t mind
so much taking the tests as the idea that he would have to get another
schedule, making the one he had useless after today. It seemed like a lot of
hassle, but he supposed it was better than being put in the wrong class.
    “You should try to fill out every answer, even if you aren’t sure of your
work,” the teacher advised as she handed out the test.
    Duo dug a pencil out of his bag and steeled himself as he looked at the
test. He couldn’t mess this up. As long as he tried… no one would be
disappointed in him. He clung to that thought desperately.

*****

    Duo’s Literature and Grammar class proved to not be any better than his
Biology and Homeroom one. He had a male teacher this time, but the man had had
a similar, placating smile and stupid meet and greet games. Prepared this time,
Duo was at least able to stand up without tripping and speak his name
coherently, but again his heart raced, he blushed furiously, and he was unable
to come up with anything to say about himself beyond his name. This time, the
teacher tried to encourage him to speak more by asking questions and, when Duo
still refused to say anything, had given up in frustration which had filled Duo
with a deep self-hatred and shame. If this kept up, all of his teachers were
going to be disgusted with him. The grammar textbook was slightly smaller than
his bio one and they were simply given their literature texts in the form of
bi-weekly novels. This weeks was relatively small and beat-up looking from past
students.
    The grammar placement test was harder than the biology one. It consisted of
fifty sentences that they had to correct for grammar and punctuation. Duo
started fine, but after the tenth sentence, started to second guess all his
answers and spent most of the class period erasing perfectly fine corrections
and agonizing over them. It was a relief to be handed his placement test back
with his score and to get out of the room. It was almost a confidence booster
to see his scores. A seventy-three on his bio test and a seventy on his
grammar. At least he wasn’t a moron and didn’t have to switch his rooms around.
European History, his first class that he didn’t have to take a placement test
for, was boring to him, consisting of an elderly teacher droning on about
textbooks and syllabuses. He didn’t ask for their names, admitting he would
only forget them later on, so they were to stay in their assigned seats, so he
need only look at a chart to remember them. Then, he entered his Algebra class
and by the end of it, had thought he had died and gone to heaven.
    His teacher, a woman with a severe and serious look to her, had no bubbly
smile or words for encouragement for them. She looked at each of her students
as they took their seats clinically and coldly, as though she were analyzing
them. She looked like the sort of person who would yell at him if he messed up
like he had in his last two classes, so when she simply handed out the
placement tests, instead of playing more stupid, embarrassing name games, Duo
felt an immense relief. Despite her no-nonsense demeanor, Duo wanted to like
her for not putting him in a position where he would have to embarrass himself
again, plus she was teaching the one subject that he really felt confident in.
    “My name is Luka Harrison. You are to call me Mrs. Harrison, not Luka or
Harry or Harrietta, or any other nickname you can think of. I teach the
advanced Algebra 1 and 2 courses so, for most of you, I won’t be seeing you
again. Most of you will be moving two classrooms over to Mr. Hendrickson. For
those few with high scores, I have one simple rule: respect me and I will
respect you. Understand that and we will have a good relationship. I highly
suggest you fill out every question and show all of your work. You may not use
calculators.”
    Several students groaned loudly, but Duo was grateful. He didn’t have a
calculator and didn’t know, if he asked for one, if he would be given one. A
few other teenagers around Duo groaned as Mrs. Harrison passed out the tests
and saw the long strings of equations, like a foreign language that they
couldn’t understand. For Duo, it was more like a second way to speak. He
understood all the symbols and felt excited, knowing he was about to tackle
something that would be a challenge, but not impossible for him. One boy
finished before Duo and he raised his hand to indicate he was done. The teacher
took his test from him and continued to walk down the rows of desks, keeping a
sharp eye on her students, making sure no one was cheating. Duo finished a
minute later, but stayed still.
    Ever since he had come into the school this morning, Duo had felt
paralyzed, unable to speak or do anything. He felt that way now. He knew he was
supposed to raise his hand, but as ridiculous as it was, he couldn’t even do
that much. He thought that if just one other student raised their hand, then he
could, too. But no one did. He sat there and just stared ahead at a poster that
had a multiplication table on it. The numbers with the equals symbol was almost
soothing, but he felt nervous. He mentally berated himself. Just raise your
hand, he thought, just do what you’re supposed to do and it will be fine. But
he couldn’t. He was sure that twenty, maybe thirty minutes would pass before
someone else would raise their hands when, suddenly, the teacher was at his
side, looking down at his work.
    He nearly jumped, then kept his head down. When he glanced at her, she
smiled at him and Duo felt startled. The middle aged woman’s face turned kind
and warm when she smiled and he knew that it was a rare thing to her. It
soothed him for a moment as she took his test from him. She knew. She
understood. Above all else, she hadn’t made a fuss once she had realized how
shy and nervous he was, just giving him a kind smile. It reminded him of Sister
Helen and that familiarity made him feel better. She then left him to continue
her perusal of the other students, but he felt as though he had met with her
approval somehow, without them having had to speak to each other.
    The rest of the class passed slowly as, one by one, the rest of the
students finished with their tests. Duo spent the time staring at the various
posters and going over his answers in his head. Mrs. Harrison was efficient
with correcting the tests and quickly started to call each of them up, in
alphabetic order. Most of them were given no textbook and were quickly
dismissed, having gotten average or below average scores. Three other students,
two boys and a girl, were given thick books and an approving nod. When it was
Duo’s turn, he was grateful to see that most of his classmates had left. Most
of his classmates had last names that started with K or C. Now, when he
shuffled up to the teacher’s desk, there were fewer eyes on him. Mrs. Harrison
smiled up at him again and handed him his test back.
    “It looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, Mr. Maxwell,” she said
with a smile that Duo could swear was affectionate.
    He accepted the test and textbook numbly, a blush spreading over his face
at the compliment. The score on his test seemed to glare up at him in red
marker. 89. His heart beat with that number. He felt nervous, embarrassed, and
deliriously happy with the teacher’s unspoken approval and impressed air. He
couldn’t help but give her a small smile.
    “Thank you, Mrs. Harrison,” he murmured, then quickly left the classroom
before his face could combust.
    Mrs. Harrison continued to smile, but shook her head sadly. Duo was such a
painfully shy boy, so different from the arrogant, cocksure boys she usually
taught. His answers, along with the time it had taken him to complete them,
proved to her that the boy had intelligence, but he didn’t appear to have been
taught a great deal of math before or she was sure he would have gotten all of
them right. A good boy, the kind that actually cared about learning things,
though very quiet. He was the sort of student that she actually enjoyed
teaching. She caught one of the remaining girls showing another girl something
on her cellphone, the two of them snickering.
    “Put that away!” she snapped.
    She didn’t care if she was about to dismiss them, the both of them having
gotten poor scores, but detested the mobile devices in her classroom. The two
girls parted, one looking guilty. The one with the cellphone had the audacity
to glare at the teacher, but still put it back in her pocket. A shy,
intelligent boy like Duo with these jackals… she would have to look out for
him.

*****

    Duo kept the happiness that his above-average score had given him all the
way to the cafeteria for lunch. He gripped the strap of his book bag as he
walked into the lunch room and immediately froze. The large room with its large
windows and long tables was incredibly loud, even louder than the church during
Christmas when the patrons and orphans sang Joyful, Joyful. Kids ran this way
and that and the middle of the room had two lines leading into the area where
food could be bought. The tables were crowded and there was no way Duo could
sit anywhere without touching someone.
    Duo backed out of the doorway, refusing to try to eat in there. He was
thankful that he had a bagged lunch and didn’t have to stand in that loud line
to buy something. He hunted for somewhere to eat his meal in peace, trying not
to get lost, and found himself at the school’s library. He worried that the
librarian wouldn’t let him eat there, as Father Maxwell often yelled at the
kids about bringing food into his own study, but she simply smiled brightly at
him and showed him some empty tables near the computers, the tables blocked
from view by tall stacks of books.
    The books fascinated him, not because he was an avid reader, but because
the church had so few of them. Mostly, they were bibles or children’s
storybooks, nothing for a teenager to read. They got a few novels from book
drives that the church put on, but they had never seemed interesting to Duo,
books about flowers or old pieces of sheet music, trashy romances and dime a
doze mysteries. He had tired of them years back, all tattered and marked up. He
had been excited at first when Sister Helen had presented him with a stack of
novels one year when he was twelve, now that he knew how to read and had been
enthralled with the idea of something that was just his, only to open them and
find ripped pages, full lines marked with pen or highlighter. He remembered
distinctly that it had made him angry, that the church only ever got something
once people had tired of it, or it had become too marked up to be pretty
anymore. Kind of like the orphans themselves. Just like sweet, little Bunny.
    These books fascinated Duo because they weren’t for little kids. They were
all kinds of sizes and colors, but the spines were in tact. These were books
that weren’t tossed away, but had been bought brand new. He tentatively took
one book from the stack at random. It wasn’t all that thick and it looked as
though no one had read it yet. The cover and title immediately interested him.
He was so used to books with colorful covers, pictures telling you everything
you needed to know about the plot. This book, titled ‘Season of Migration to
the North’, which was a bizarre title of itself, simply had a painting of what
looked like a deer with curved antlers desperately trying to swim in a river
and failing miserably, its head barely above the water.
    Intrigued by the strange cover, Duo spent his lunch period eating the
peanut butter, jelly, and banana sandwich Sister Helen had made for him and
reading each page as slowly as he could. With the cover, he had thought the
book might be about wildlife, like birds migrating for the winter or something.
Instead, it was about a man who had traveled to Europe returning to his village
to meet this strange man, Mustafa, who had also traveled, and the narrator’s
attempts to rejoin his village life, but struggling to do so. The way it was
written was strange, using words and names Duo had never heard before, but in a
way that made him feel what the narrator was feeling, the longing and
strangeness, mixed with alien familiarity. But maybe that was kind of because
he understood what that was like, feeling like an alien amongst people who were
supposed to be your family.
    Or rather, it was like that night, so long ago… returning home, only to
find out that it wasn’t home anymore, and your family wasn’t really your
family, but they were. You still loved them, but they were different and
strange to you. Like the image, burned into his brain these past nine years.
His father, with eyes half lidded, hanging from his bedroom ceiling, staring at
him accusingly and he, not running from the horrifying sight, but sitting on
the floor and staring back. Almost like he was frozen on the spot, or perhaps,
like he was trying to punish himself…
    “I remembered what the priest had said to me when I was on my way to Cairo:
‘All of us, my son, are in the last resort traveling alone.’”
    Duo felt a sharp, indescribable pain fill his heart and he closed the book
quickly. Those words burned into him, like the last image he had of his father,
and he felt a deep sadness, though he wasn’t sure why. The book reminded him of
that song by the Rolling Stones, ‘Laugh, I Nearly Died.’ “I’ve been travelin’/
But I don’t know where / I’ve been missing you, but you just don’t care / And
I’ve been wandering / I’ve seen Greece and Rome / Lost in the wilderness / So
far from home.” (1) He had always loved that song, though it made him sad. This
book was like that, too.
    The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Duo sighed. He had barely gotten
anywhere in the book and wanted to see where it went. He got up to put it back
on the shelf. Maybe he could come back here again and read it every lunch. That
would be nice.
    “You can take that out, if you like,” the librarian said, suddenly
appearing near him.
    Duo flinched, then stared at her, not sure of her words.
    “I can… take it?” he asked, confused.
    “Yes,” she said, smiling in amusement, “We’re just like any other library.
You can take any book you like home with you, for a limited time, of course.
Well, except for the reference books.”
    Duo continued to stare at her, his violet eyes wide. He had rarely been to
a library, and while he knew you could take out books, he didn’t have a card
and he wasn’t aware that school libraries did that.
    “Can I?” he asked, dazed.
    He imagined taking the pristine book back with him, to where such nice
things often got destroyed. He would have to hide it or something.
    “In fact,” the blonde woman said, “We only lend books for three days, but
with that one, you can have it for as long as you like, granted you bring it
back at the end of this semester. You have a trustworthy face.”
    Duo was immediately skeptical. He didn’t care what kind of face he had, he
really didn’t think adults broke rules for kids they didn’t even know.
    “Why?” he felt compelled to ask.
    “You’re the first student to actually take that book out,” she said sadly,
“It’s been here for two years, but it isn’t the sort of thing most students
read recreationally. A few senior English classes taught it,” she pointed to
the red sticker on the spine that labeled it as mature reading, something only
the juniors and seniors could read, “but it’s more of a book for college
classes than high school. It’s nice to see someone take an interest in it.
Would you like to take it out?”
    Duo nodded eagerly. In his excitement over the book, he didn’t even realize
that he was perfectly calm, though he was talking to a stranger, and he wasn’t
stuttering. The librarian led him over to her desk where he had to sign his
name and phone number. She stamped the little card in the book that had been
crisp and clean before, then let him leave. He felt strange as he put the book
as gently as he could into his backpack, like he was stealing it, but also felt
an odd eagerness to go home and read more of it. The book might not be his, but
it kind of felt like it was. Outside the library, the halls were crowded again
and Duo hesitantly joined the stream of traffic to his fifth class.
    With his placement tests all over with, Duo didn’t really know what to
expect with his music and art classes, but they weren’t too bad. Music Choice
was exactly that. Instead of a class room, on his schedule the class area was
simply marked ‘theatre’, which had been easy enough to find. The theatre had
been crowded with students, but Duo saw that they were all being divided into
three separate classes, not just one huge one. Most of them had no musical
experience and ended up in chorus, which Duo thought was probably the easiest.
Anyone could sing, even if you were tone death. Once one of the teachers
involved had heard that Duo could play the piano, however, she had gotten
incredibly excited and had placed him with the orchestra group.
    To Duo’s immense relief, the orchestra teacher didn’t ask him to play in
front of the class, but called them one by one to a smaller room with an
instrument of their choice for private rehearsals. In Duo’s eyes, this was a
lot like the placement tests, just another way he was going to be judged. It
didn’t bother him all that much because, though he wasn’t overly confident
about his piano playing, it made him feel a lot better that only the teacher
would have to hear him play. And best of all, he wouldn’t have to sing. The
orchestra teacher was a short, thirty-something blonde man with a very slight
lisp and, Duo had heard a few girls talking, flamboyantly gay. That sort of
explained the rainbow tie he was wearing, although the rest of his suit was
like the other male teachers.
    Duo knew he should be uncomfortable with that fact, he had often heard
Sister Helen say that gay men were often perverts, but he didn’t really believe
that. For one, Sister Helen also said that God loved you, no matter what, and
Duo didn’t want to believe that God would make you gay, knowing how mean people
could be about it, and still claim to love you. Secondly, he knew that Mr.
Wilson, the man who ran the little theater near the church that he and Kevin
often went to was gay and he had always been nice to them, not weird or pervy.
Sometimes he let them into movies for free and one time, when Duo was really
little, he had shown them the projection room, but hadn’t done anything weird.
His boyfriend was nice, too, and told them funny stories about his wacky
parents.
    Mr. Baccello was nice, too. Duo didn’t feel nervous and awkward around him
like his other teachers, because he seemed so casual. He had been nervous at
first, when he had told the teacher that he didn’t know how to read sheet
music, but the man hadn’t batted an eye at that, simply telling him to show him
what he could do. Mr. Baccello didn’t seem like a pervert to him, just slightly
eccentric, and a bit brave. There was no way Duo would have been able to walk
into school wearing a rainbow tie.
    He wasn’t sure why, but just knowing that the music teacher could be here
and hadn’t been fired for being… his way made him feel better. He couldn’t be
annoyed with Sister Helen about her beliefs, even though they did bother him
sometimes. He had always believed what she said, so even if she was wrong about
this, he couldn’t bring himself to think anything else she might have told him
was wrong. It was too complicated to think that way, so he just stopped
thinking about it all together.
    The piano in this separate room reminded Duo of the one in the church.
Unlike the organ that they had, it had nicks and scratches on it, the seat
wobbled constantly, and the piano itself often had to be retuned, sometimes
twice in one day. This one was in tune, however, and when Mr. Baccello told him
to play him two songs, Duo immediately launched into Le Chante Pour Passer le
Temps (2), which the teacher seemed impressed with, though Duo had struggled
with the last few minutes of the complicated song, then Fur Elise. The blonde
teacher stopped him halfway through this song.
    “That’s all well and good,” he said with a soft smile, “But how about
something more modern, something… fun?”
    Both of the songs that Duo had chosen were favorites among the church’s
parishioners and he always played Fur Elise during a funeral, so it was one
that he was good at. His face colored darkly at being stopped in mid-song, but
when he saw that his teacher wasn’t annoyed with him or disappointed with his
playing, he recovered. Maybe it was because he felt more confident behind a
piano than sitting at a desk.
    He racked his brain for something that he hadn’t been taught by Sister
Helen for services. He had taught himself songs from off the radio and Cds that
other orphans had, but none of them were solely for piano. He wished that he
had someone who could play violin with him. Allison, a thirteen year old who
had been with them for only a few months, had played with him often and had had
a great talent for it, but he wasn’t really comfortable with playing with a
stranger. He wasn’t sure why, after all, music was music, but it felt like an
intrusion, playing with someone that he didn’t even know. He finally thought of
something suitable and fun, though it wasn’t perfect, since he had no one to
sing. The teacher clapped his hands and laughed as Duo started playing the
piano part for Seasons of Love, the only Broadway song he knew how to play
well.
    “Perfect!” Baccello crowed happily.
    By the end of the song, Duo was smiling, too. He couldn’t help it, it was
contagious and started to think that maybe Music Choice wouldn’t be so bad, if
he could somehow find the courage to play like this in front of everyone else.
At least it would be more fun than playing in church where everyone was in a
somber or grumpy mood for having to be up so early. It made him want to learn
how to play more upbeat songs, since most of the songs he knew sounded sad or
serious. The art class, on the other hand, he suffered through.
    The height of Duo’s artistic talent consisted of stick figures, so being
told by his annoyingly bubbly teacher, a blonde woman named Ms. Po, who had a
tendency to hang all over her male students and gush over their work, to draw
whatever he liked hadn’t helped. Like his last class, he didn’t feel the
anxiety he had felt that morning, but attributed to the tall easels blocking
everyone’s view of him. Still, though he hated painting as much as he hated his
teacher’s weird, flippant personality, he prayed that it would never end. The
threat of his last class loomed over him, making his chest start to hurt again,
just a little bit.
    He couldn’t run, couldn’t jump, he couldn’t even lift weights. The presence
of his doctor’s note in his pocket prickled at him. It was required for every
student to pass a physical fitness class, and it wasn’t like he didn’t want to
play sports with the other kids, but since he had found out about his heart
problem, he hadn’t actually done anything physically strenuous. He had spent
most of his childhood being scolded by Sister about running around. He could
easily remember her horror stories of the very first time his heart had failed
and how close to death he had come. It haunted his nightmares sometimes. He
still had that dream of his father chasing him and thrusting his hand inside of
his chest, ripping his heart out.
    He really shouldn’t feel so depressed about it, he knew that. It was worse
to end up in the hospital again than just to be left out, especially since he
was sure he wouldn’t be good at sports anyway. He was short and not all that
strong. But it was just one more thing that set him apart from all the other
boys his age. He was smaller than them, pale, shy, a nervous wreck, not as
educated as them, he had no money, a bad heart, and all he could do was the
warm up exercises in this class. It wasn’t just depressing, it was a waste of
time. And it looked like fun, to run around, to be competitive.
    As he walked into the gym, Duo saw that everyone was already in groups with
their friends, some playing basketball while they waited for the teacher to
show up. It hit him then, more than it ever had, even when he had first walked
into the school that morning. He was alone. All these boys had friends and Duo
would probably never be one of theirs. He was isolated, strange. A feeling of
great loneliness washed over him, the same loneliness he had felt ever since he
had watched his father bury a knife into his mother’s body. Just standing there
in the gym, watching more lively boys having fun, Duo felt like a ghost, a
shade of a living person.
    Two boys shoved past him to get into the gym and Duo stumbled forward. His
heart clenched at the feeling of being touched by strangers, but he was
distracted as he caught the gym teacher striding out of his office. For a
moment, with his short, brown hair and straight, authoritative posture, the
teacher reminded Duo of Officer Brennen, the cop who had helped him so much the
night his parents had died, finding him in his house and bringing him to the
hospital. The officer had been a constant presence during his childhood,
visiting Duo on holidays and his birthday, every so often when he could get
away from his job and his own family. What few nice things Duo had had were
gifts from him, his nightlight, the sneakers he had outgrown last year, the
calculator that one of the kids had accidentally stepped on, a bunch of
sweaters that were still folded in his closet…
    He and Officer Brennen had talked at a great length about Solo, who now was
a shadow in his memory. It was hard to remember his face, what color his eyes
were, but Brennen remembered those little things while Duo, when the face
failed, could always remember Solo’s laugh, for some reason. They never talked
about Duo’s father or what Brennen had found that night in Duo’s house. Sister
Helen and Father Maxwell tried to talk about it, tried to pry the truth of that
night from him, but Officer Brennen had always understood. It wasn’t the stress
or Duo’s weak heart that kept them from talking about it, just the grief.
    Duo shook his head. The gym teacher didn’t actually look anything like the
police officer, just a glimmer. Brennen had died three years ago and it still
brought him a great deal of sadness to think of him. He had gone on a domestic
abuse call, only to find that some man had tied his kids to the legs of the
kitchen table as he beat their mother to death with the butt of his loaded gun.
He should have waited for backup, but he hadn’t been able to leave the kids
there. He had gone in, got the kids out, and went back for the mother, not
realizing she had already died. When he went back in, the man shot him in the
head.
    It reminded him so much of Solo, who had died to save his life, a life that
surely wasn’t worth more than his own, but he had paid for it anyway. Solo and
Brennen, the two men who had saved his life, in different ways. He wondered if,
one day, he would wake up and he wouldn’t be able to remember either of their
faces. That made him feel worthless. The people in his life that he loved kept
dying, while he continued on. It didn’t seem fair that he was the one still
alive, it wasn’t like he was anything special. He wasn’t even normal. That, one
day, he might not be able to even remember the people who had given so much to
see his worthless self continue on almost had him crying in the gymnasium. In
the face of that, his anxiety over confronting his gym teacher about his heart
condition seemed so utterly pathetic. Bit by bit, his sadness was replaced by a
furious self-hatred.
    Still, his heart quaked as he walked up to the tall, broad-chested man,
note clutched in his shaking hands. He felt completely disgusted in himself at
that moment and that feeling kept him from shaking any more than he already
was. Again, he told himself that if he couldn’t even do this much, there was no
point in going to school now, was there? The teacher noticed him walking
forward and looked at him like a dog must look at an ant on the sidewalk,
wondering what such a pathetic creature was doing walking towards it.
    “S-sir,” Duo started to stutter.
    He took a deep breath and forced himself to continue, though his chest was
starting to hurt at the man’s imposing stare.
    “I… I have a note,” he started.
    “So?” the teacher said coldly, looking at him distrustfully.
    Duo almost gave up then, his carefully constructed words silenced by the
offhand remark. He practically shoved it at the man, the gym teacher having no
choice but to grab it and rip it from Duo’s hands. For a moment, the man’s
pompous attitude annoyed Duo and he found himself speaking without realizing
what he was saying, as though he were having an out of body experience.
    “I have a bad heart,” he said in irritation before he could stop himself,
“I can’t exert myself too much, or my heart might stop. That’s a note from my
doctor saying that.”
    The minute he stopped speaking, Duo felt a chilling tremor go through him
and he felt like throwing up for having spoken at all. The teacher finally
looked at the note and, to Duo’s shock, snorted in disbelief at it.
    “You aren‘t serious, are you?” the teacher sneered, “I’ve gotten too many
kids forging doctor’s notes to just nod like a monkey every time someone tells
me they can’t take a phys ed class! Though, I have to admit, you’ve got some
balls. ‘Cardiomyopathy’, I didn’t even think a baby like you could spell such a
thing! Get your big brother or sister to write this for you?” the teacher
jabbed Duo in the chest with his finger, “You think I’m so stupid that I’d
believe a freshman’s got a heart problem? Someone should have taught ya how to
lie, kid.”
    Duo felt his heart twist up, like it was trying to do an impression of a
pretzel and he could feel it pulsate weakly, but frantically, like it was
trapped in a mesh, wire net and trying to get out, but couldn’t. His chest hurt
from where the teacher had jabbed him, though it had nothing to do with that.
The pain spread across his chest, but he refused to grip at it or let the man
know about the distress he was feeling. His childish instincts were telling him
to just apologize, to do whatever the teacher wanted him to do, then nothing
bad would happen, but he knew that that wasn’t going to work this time. If he
took this class, his heart would fail. He would make Sister Helen worry about
him again, and that was a whole lot worse than upsetting a teacher.
    He had never imagined, though, that the teacher would call him a liar, or
touch him like that. He had a note, so why was this happening? He didn’t know
what to do or say to make him believe him. He felt helpless.
    “But… I’m not lying…” Duo protested, but his voice was small and weak, “I
do have heart problem…”
    The teacher looked angry at Duo’s attempts to stand up to him and, for a
moment, he reminded Duo of his dead father so much, he feared he was about to
get hit.
    “Now, you listen here, you little punk, I don’t want to hear anymore of
this bullshit, you got it?! Just get dressed and start warming up for class!”
the man was almost screaming and was drawing the attention of the kids around
them.
    Normally, Duo would have felt self-conscious about all the people staring
at him, but he didn’t even realize it. He was too focused on the gym teacher’s
words. The memory hit him as sharply and immensely as the sudden, intense pain
in his chest. The erratic pounding of his heart filled his head.
    

    He was five years old. He knew that, not because he remembered this moment
so well, but because the curtains hanging in the window over the kitchen sink
were pale yellow. A little after his sixth birthday, Duo remembered that his
mother had bought dark blue ones. He remembered that because his father had
thrown a fit over them, though the yellow ones had been badly stained and Duo
had always hated the color.
    He had hit his mom in the face with a beer bottle and Duo had spent the
night in the emergency room, waiting for his mom to come out. Ever since then,
he had hated the dark blue ones, too. He ran into the kitchen, where his father
was standing at the sink, eating some kind of sandwich. His father smiled down
at him. He was in a good mood today. His breath didn’t smell like alcohol and
he didn’t yell at Duo for running. It was these fragments of memory that Duo
wished he could hang on to, the rare moments when his father smiled at him and
was kind, loving… not remembering the sound the knife had made when it had slid
into her stomach, or the sound of gunshots. The smell of blood.
    “Daddy, Daddy,” Duo grabbed and tugged onto his father’s pant leg.
    His father narrowed his eyes at the tug in annoyance, but that was ok. That
wasn’t one of the warning signs. If he had been drinking, it would be, but
things were ok for now.
    “I saw something really, really cool!” he said excitedly.
    His father regained his smile.
    “And what was that, kiddo?” he asked.
    “There were these two cars, a blue one and a cop car. The cop car was
chasin’ the blue one, then the blue one flipped over, it was great!” Duo was
almost jumping, remembering the sight of the car flipping, just like in the
movies.
    No one had been hurt, of course, that would have made it slightly less
great. His father narrowed his eyes again, this time in suspicion. Duo
recognized the look. His daddy thought he was lying, which was bad. His daddy
hated lying. Duo used to lie, when he was younger, about having a friend. His
mommy had said it was called an imaginary friend, but his dad just called it
lying. Every time Duo had brought it up, his dad had hit him. Duo didn’t
mention imaginary friends anymore, or try to conjure any up. This time, though,
he wasn’t lying.
    “And where was this?” his father asked.
    Duo remembered. His mommy and him had been walking down Park Street, which
was where all the vendors were. She had promised to buy him a hot dog when the
car had crashed through some of the carts.
    “The park,” he said brightly.
    Duo realized his mistake a second before the words came out of his mouth,
but it was already too late to take it back. His father growled at him.
    “Duo,” he said in a tone that he often had when he was angry, but wasn’t
really lying.
    It was much more dangerous when his daddy wasn’t yelling.
    “I… I meant…” Duo stuttered.
    He had meant to say Park Street, so why had he said the park? That was just
stupid and now his daddy thought he was lying…
    “How many times have I told you not to lie?!” his father snapped at him.
    Before Duo even realized what he was doing, he made things worse.
    “I’m not!” he protested, “It did happen.”
    He should have kept his mouth shut, he realized. Even if his daddy thought
he was lying and he really wasn’t, he should have just apologized. His father’s
foot lashed out at him and caught him in the chest. Duo fell backwards, hitting
his head against the wall. He wheezed, then choked as his lungs spasmed with
the blow. He looked up at him in betrayal and, for a moment, he hated his
father, but the feeling quickly faded. His daddy was just punishing him because
he thought he had told a lie. That was what daddies were supposed to do, so he
shouldn’t feel bad about it. His daddy just didn’t know he hadn’t been lying,
that was all. His father grabbed his chin hard enough to bruise and his cold
eyes burned into Duo’s.
    “I have no patience for lying, little punks,” his father said, his tone as
cold as his stare, “Do you understand me, Duo? Now, promise me you will never
lie to me again!”
    Duo nodded. He didn’t care that his daddy had hit him. He didn’t care that
he hadn’t really lied and his daddy should know that. He just wanted to do what
he was told, he wanted his daddy to not be mad at him anymore. He wanted him to
smile at him again. That was why… that was why it was better to do as you were
told. It was safer. If you did what you were told, you didn’t have to be
punished. If he did what he was told, his daddy might just smile at him again…
    

    Quatre watched Mr. Wilks yell at the short freshman intensely. His brother
was on the other side of the gym, intimidating some other poor freshman. At
least, Quatre assumed that was what he was doing. Heero had an irritated look
on his face as he talked to a boy that Quatre didn’t recognize, who was looking
scared as hell, but his brother didn’t actually look angry, so it was probably
just out of boredom. He ignored them and focused solely on the spectacle that
some of the other kids were watching, too. He recognized the freshman as the
boy who had been standing at the entrance of the gym, just gawking, as he and
Heero had pushed past him. He had continued to gawk, even as they had almost
pushed him over.
    Neither he nor his brother had given the boy much of a thought. His
clothes, while obviously new, were just as obviously cheap, just a bit too big
on his body, as though they had been bought so new ones wouldn’t have to be
bought if he grew. Between the loose clothes and the annoying hat covering his
hair, they hadn’t been able to get a good look at him and had easily written
him off as someone boring and uninteresting. Then, as he had been scoping out
the other freshman, Quatre had heard the shouting and had gotten a glimpse of
the boy.
    For a whole, full minute, Quatre just stared at his eyes. Fuck, those eyes.
He had always had a thing for painting and, looking at those eyes, Quatre
realized that they were normally indigo, but under the bright lights of the
gymnasium, they were violet. A pretty mix of deep blues and light purples, that
combination almost made those eyes glow compared to the drab hazels and greys
that Quatre had been examining all day. That color couldn’t possibly be natural
or common, but he knew that a boy who couldn’t afford better clothes and a new
back pack probably couldn’t afford colored contact lenses. Also, he seemed shy,
keeping his head bowed as the teacher ranted at him. Someone like that wouldn’t
buy contacts to stand out.
    The rest of him wasn’t bad, either. Far from it. His wide eyes were framed
by thick lashes, his face soft and pretty, not overly masculine or feminine.
His skin showed an absence of scars, pimples, and freckles, the color of pale
wheat mixed with silken milk. Quatre cursed the boy’s clothes and hat, wanting
to see his hair and body type. Would he be thin or muscular, was his ass nice?
The shapeliness of his neck told him that the boy wasn’t fat, but that was
about all he could tell. Still, he was by far the most interesting boy they had
spotted today.
    Even his reactions to Mr. Wilks were interesting. By now, most boys would
be red in the face out of embarrassment and anger from being called a liar,
what the fight was about, Quatre hadn’t heard, but he had heard that much.
However, this boy was getting paler by the second. He wasn’t as embarrassed as
he was frightened. Wilks was a blowhard, every upperclassman knew that. His
loathing of being made a fool was poorly mixed with his hatred for teenaged
boys. How the man had become any sort of teacher was beyond Quatre’s
understanding.
     He knew for a fact, though Heero and Quatre’s names kept them far from
Wilks’ wrath, that the teacher wouldn’t stop yelling at the kid until he either
apologized or started to cry. Giving the boy’s paleness and slight trembling,
Quatre couldn’t honestly figure out which would happen first. Now, what kind of
human would he be to let such a cute boy be abused like this? With a smirk,
Quatre strode up to the teacher. As he got closer, he saw that the boy really
was shaking and looked far too pale. He reminded Quatre of a white deer, ready
to bolt at any moment and he found that adorable. If they hunted him, they
would have to corner him better than the others. Anyone with this much fear in
them was unpredictable.
    “Now, Mr. Wilks,” Quatre said in a teasing voice, “Aren’t you making a fool
of yourself, getting all bent out of shape over one, little doctor’s note?”
    Wilks whirled to glare at the boy, his face beet red with fury until he saw
who it was. Quatre watched with fascination as the blush on the teacher’s face
drained away to paleness. The words caught in Wilks’ throat. Fucking Yuys… if
he so much as raised his voice to the boy, he would be in deep shit. Their
first year here, he had caught the both of them smoking in the boy’s locker
room and had given them both detention, but not before trying to scare them a
little. Just a push, that was all, and he had found himself in the principal’s
office himself. He had almost gotten fired. Little shits.
    “I mean, look at all these people staring at you, getting all hot and
bothered yelling at this poor kid over something so silly. Aren’t you
embarrassed?” Quatre jeered, his eyes cruel and calculating.
    Duo stared at the other boy incredulously. For a moment, he was startled by
him. The boy was only slightly taller than himself, maybe by three to four
inches but had lightly muscled, long arms compared to Duo’s skinny ones, and
pale skin. Of course, his skin wasn’t as pale as Duo’s, but he was pretty sure
that no one’s skin was as pale as his. The boy’s golden hair and blue-green
eyes gave the boy an angelic look, but he had a threatening expression as he
looked up at the teacher, destroying his innocent looks. He made Duo think of a
mountain lion, smaller than their African cousins, but just as lethal. He
couldn’t understand why this boy was sticking up for him, let alone risking
pissing off a teacher for some stupid, strange freshman.
    But, the older boy didn’t get in trouble. Duo continued to watch,
astonished, as the gym teacher turned about five colors at once, but didn’t
explode at the boy. He looked like he would, for a moment, then the man just
gritted his teeth and glared at the blonde. The teacher who had gladly ranted
at Duo just for having a doctor’s note looked at the boy almost like he was
scared of him. Suddenly, the teacher turned to Duo and he felt all of the man’s
anger directed at him.
    “You can skip class this week,” Wilks snarled at him, “But next week, we
split the class up into two groups, football and archery,” he smirked, almost
cruelly, “Unless you think archery is too strenuous for you. The classes will
always split into two groups, so you can always pick the less straining one.
There’s no excuse for you to miss any classes beyond this week.”
    His smirk twisted into an arrogant sneer. He had effectively given the kid
no room to back out. If he lied now, tried to get out of the class entirely, he
would know that the note was a fake. He was going to check up on this doctor
regardless, but he wanted to make the kid squirm and dig himself into a hole
for lying to him. To his shock, instead of looking panicked, the boy smiled in
utter relief. Duo latched onto the gym teacher’s words eagerly.
    As long as he could take this class, without stressing his heart or
worrying Sister Helen, or utterly embarrassing himself with his classmates, he
didn’t care what he had to do. He had never even held a bow in his life, but he
had no idea how to play football, either, and he thought a boy who couldn’t
shoot a bow had to be a whole lot more normal than a boy who had never watched
a football game. Kevin and Father Maxwell liked to watch them, but they had
always bored Duo.
    “That’s perfect,” Duo said happily, glad that he didn’t have to fight with
the teacher anymore, “As long as there isn’t a ton of running involved, I can
handle it.”
    Quatre glared at Wilks, almost smirking at his obvious embarrassment as he
realized that the violet eyed boy hadn’t been lying to him. Stupid ass. He
didn’t care what the problem had been about and he normally wouldn’t have even
cared about the fight, but this boy might be theirs, and no one messed with
anything of theirs, especially their prey. The hunt might be just a game, but
both he and Heero were more affectionate and protective of their prey than they
were of anyone other people in their lives, with the exception of each other.
They had nothing else, after all, even their father couldn’t measure up.
    Duo’s relief made Wilks feel shame, if only because he had made an ass of
himself. But the thing that chilled him was Yuy’s glare. The last thing he
wanted was one, or both, of the twins to be pissed at him. But why did this
cold son of a bitch care about some stupid freshman? He stalked off with an
annoyed snort. As quickly as he was gone, Duo turned to Quatre and beamed at
him. The blonde scared him, kind of like finding a wolf dressed as a sheep in
your kitchen, but if he hadn’t stepped in, Duo didn’t know what would have
happened. His mother had always told him that you should be grateful when
someone helped you, even if you didn’t like them, and Duo’s fear wasn’t going
to keep him from being relieved about the intervention. Quatre was blown away
by the boy’s brilliant smile. He was cute when he was scared, but his smile was
beautiful, his eyes seeming to brighten just by his mood.
    “Thank you so much,” Duo said breathlessly.
    Quatre smiled back.
    “Not a problem,” he replied offhandedly, too busy admiring the boy’s eyes
and pale, ghostly skin.
    Duo’s shyness finally overcame his relief and he walked quickly to the
bleachers. Quatre watched his ass as he walked away and smirked. His jeans were
too baggy to really see the shape of his ass, but what he could see was
definitely not half bad. With that predatory smirk firmly on his face, Quatre
walked over to his brother. Heero was leaning against the far wall, the
freshman he had been talking to long gone. He raised one dark brown eyebrow at
Quatre as he approached.
    “Did you see?” Quatre asked, grinning.
    “Skittish as a baby rabbit,” Heero remarked, but it wasn’t in
disappointment.
    He had stayed across the room mostly, to keep the pale boy from seeing him,
but like any twin, his eyes had been on his brother the entire time, like the
other half of his soul. He hadn’t heard what the fight had been about, but he
had gotten a good look at the boy involved. Thin, pale, frightened… like a
ghost or a fawn. Perfect prey for a pair of wolves looking for fresh meat. But
it wasn’t as easy as that for Heero.     
    “Incredible eyes…” Heero murmured.
    He had risked the boy realizing what was going on by stalking closer to the
three of them, but it had been worth it to see a flash of those eyes. Like
irises or precious stones, their brilliance magnified by his white skin. White
and indigo…
    “But I couldn’t see his hair,” he said gruffly in irritation, “That fucking
hat… I’m not putting effort into this unless I see the whole package.”
    Quatre snorted. Heero could be so anal about these things… but he did have
a point. For all they knew, he could be bald under that hat. Ugh.
    “Still, he’s a possibility,” Heero conceded.
    The only possibility that they had come across all day, though. A very big
possibility, given those eyes. Maybe that was vain of him, but what else were
you supposed to think about a person when you hadn’t even met them? Besides,
sometimes a pair of pretty eyes was enough. They didn’t know if he was going to
be susceptible yet, but he was the best option that had come along so far.
    “Don’t worry,” Quatre said with an arrogant grin, “I’ve got a plan.”

*****

    Duo made a vague mental note to himself that he needed to find an old t-
shirt and a pair of gym shorts when he got back to the church. He didn’t have
any shorts beyond the ratty khaki ones he wore during the summer. He didn’t
even have a pair of swim trunks since you had to pay to use the public school.
He didn’t know how to swim, he had never been in a body of water bigger than a
bathtub. At least there didn’t seem to be a real uniform, as his classmates
gathered in front of Mr. Wilks to do stretches, all of them dressed in
different old t-shirts and shorts or loose, exercise pants.
    He watched with distaste as they finished with the warm up and were split
into two groups to play dodge ball. He was vaguely familiar with the sport, as
some of the boys at the orphanage liked to play it on the street, much to
Sister Helen’s dismay, with one boy watching out for cars. He was almost glad
that he had heart problems and didn’t have to play the violent sport. What was
so fun about being smacked by a rubber ball anyway, unless you were the winner
and didn’t get hit? Duo was the only one sitting on the bleachers and he took
the opportunity to flip through his text books.
    They really were better than the books Sister Helen had had him study at
the orphanage. The words wouldn’t faded and he had an easy time reading them.
The biology book had some interesting pictures in it, while the European
history one had some mildly funny, and sometimes morbid, cartoons about British
kings and the black plague. He spent all of the class in that way, just
flipping through each single page and looking at the pictures and cartoons.
When he got to his math book, he, in boredom, played the game he used to play
when he was younger at the times he had had no one to play with, which had been
often, seeing how many equations in the first two chapters he could do in his
head.
    Every so often, Duo’s head would shoot up and he would look around at his
classmates wildly. He could feel intense eyes on him, but when he looked for
them, he couldn’t find them. He shook it off uneasily. No one was staring at
him, he told himself, there was no reason for anyone to be staring at him, yet
he still felt someone’s stare burning into him. It was a sheer mercy when the
bell rang, signaling the end of the day. He breathed in relief and packed up
his things, cheerily walking down the bleachers. He didn’t know who had won the
game of dodge ball and didn’t really care. Finally, finally, finally he could
go home and stop this day, teetering between horrific and wonderful.
    “Maxwell!” Wilks, who had suddenly appeared at the bottom of the bleachers.
    Duo’s heart jerked and he was so startled that he stumbled in mid-step and
nearly fell.
    “Hit the showers. I don’t care if you sweat or not, when you’re in my
class, you shower. School rules,” he snapped gruffly, then stomped off.
    Duo’s heart plummeted into his stomach, twisting and growing cold. He
opened his mouth to argue with the departing teacher, but once again, he
couldn't force himself to stick up for himself. He couldn’t do this. He
couldn’t… couldn’t get naked in front of people! He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he
couldn’t… He’d have to take his hat off, people would see his hair, they would
make fun of him, tease him. They’d see how skinny and ugly he was. He couldn’t
hide from them. His heart would hurt. He’d be embarrassed, ashamed… he couldn’t
do this… Trembling a little, he automatically walked to the locker room door.
He had to shower, had to do what he was told, he couldn’t take his clothes off
in front of the other boys… he felt like his brain was short circuiting.
    Someone bumped into him from behind, breaking Duo from his panicking
thoughts. He got a brief flash of blonde hair, then his bag fell from his hands
and papers and books flew everywhere. He felt like crying as he just stood
there next to the locker room door and stared at his stuff. His mind felt blank
and white, like a snow bank. He felt numb. Why was this so hard? So he had to
take a shower, so all his stuff was on the floor and everyone was just walking
past him, not giving a shit, so what? Why couldn’t he handle this? One of the
boys that were walking towards the locker room stopped and got on their knees,
picking up Duo’s papers.
    He was taller than Duo was by a lot, his shoulders wide, stuck somewhere
between boyhood and manhood. His dark brown hair was wild, falling into dark
blue eyes the color of the deep ocean, making him look wolfish. Duo was
startled for a moment by the look in his eyes, a predatory expression that
reminded him so much of the blonde boy from earlier, but his tanned skin and
narrowly shaped eyes reminded him of Bunny, a strange combination. The dark
brunette knelt down and helped him pick up the books.
    “T-thank you,” he said softly, feeling completely embarrassed that he had
had to have been helped twice by strange upperclassman today, but grateful.
    Heero smiled back at him. Fuck, but those eyes were even prettier close up
and his skin really was almost colorless, but not in a sickly way, like how a
vampire from a romantic horror flick might look like. The boy was so adorably
shy, but earnest and had a kind look to him. Again, he cursed that stupid hat,
wanting to see what his hair was like, long or short, silky or coarse… what
color would it be?
    “Not a problem,” he said, smiling in what he hoped was disarming to the
nervous freshman.
    He wasn’t exactly used to being reassuring or nice. They got all of the
boy’s things back into his bag and the boy stood. Heero watched him with a
calculating eye, which quickly turned predatory as he watched the denim cloth
cling to the boy’s rear as he moved. He got to his feet and, as fast as a
striking snake, he grabbed one of the boy’s ass cheeks through his jeans. The
feeling of a round ass in his hand, warm with the roughness of denim, was
wonderful.
    He loved that shape, the roundness and the softness of it. He squeezed it
harshly and grinned as he could finally feel a concrete part of the pale boy’s
body. His practiced mind used what he was feeling to paint what the boy’s body
would look like naked. It wasn’t a bad image at all. His long fingers dug into
as much of the crack as he could through the jeans and he fantasized that he
might be brushing against the delicate, little hole there. Heero let go of the
sweet little ass cheek as quickly as he had grabbed it and moved past the boy,
covertly looking back at him.
    The second Duo felt the strong, steady hand on him, a sensation that felt
like an electrical shock went in a jolt from his stomach to his groin, making
him feel hot and prickly. He had never felt something like that before and it
shocked him when he felt his cock swell and harden from the touch. His face
turned red in shame and he pulled his shirt down as far as it could go, trying
to hide it. What if someone saw it? He would die if someone did, actually die.
It wasn’t like it was the first erection he had ever gotten, but mostly, he
just got those weird ones guys got in the morning, for no real reason. But, he
just took severely cold showers and it usually went away on its own. He knew
that some guys… well, jerked off, but he never had. He had never seen the point
in it.
    Kevin said that he was a late bloomer, that one day, he would be like any
teenaged boy and would be constantly hard up for girls, but Duo rarely ever
thought about it. Maybe Kevin was right and he was just too young. Or worse.
Maybe it would be like everything else in his life and he just wasn’t normal.
But… but this… he had never gotten an erection like this before and it wasn’t a
girl that had touched him… he whirled to look at the boy that had touched him,
but he was already walking past him, like nothing at all had happened. Maybe it
had just been in his head… but his cock, throbbing faintly in his pants
definitely wasn’t.
    ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ a voice the sounded oddly like Sister
Helen snapped at him, ‘He didn’t touch you. You’re just a pervert.’
    Duo shook his head. It had been a weird day. This didn’t mean anything. He
was… he was hallucinating or something, that was all. He would just say a
prayer with Sister Helen when he got back to the church. She liked it when he
did that, even though most of the time, Duo couldn’t think of anything to say
to God, because after his first few years at the church, praying to God to
bring his mom and dad back to life, he had stopped asking for things. There
really wasn’t much else he had wanted. If Sister Helen found out about this… he
grit his teeth.
    She would yell at him about living a dirty life, that he was too young to
even be thinking about sex, something you shouldn’t think about until you were
responsible and in love. But, even worse, she would stop yelling and just give
him that sad and disappointed look that twisted guilt like a knife in his gut.
He knew that he would do whatever she wanted, just so she would never have to
look at him like that. His fingernails dug into his palms as he walked into the
locker room. It didn’t matter, he decided, whether that boy had touched him or
not. His erection didn’t matter. It was just his stupid body betraying him
again, just like with his heart. If he ignored it and hid it, it would go away.

*****

    “Well?” Quatre asked his brother as leaned against the wall of lockers,
though he already knew the answer from Heero’s smirk.
    Heero’s hand still felt warm from the pale boy and he remembered the
adorable, shocked look he had had. He also remembered his glance back, and how
the boy’s jeans had tented before he had tried to hide it with his shirt.
    “Oh, he’s susceptible,” Heero said smugly and his grin turned predatory,
matching his twin’s.
    The hunt was on.


End Chapter 2
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Summary
     Heero and Quatre corner Duo in the showers after class.
Chapter 3: Hunting


    The locker room sounded like the orphanage did sometimes, when all the kids
came home after school. The tiled room echoed loudly with the sounds of boys
teasing each other and low pitched laughter. It smelled strange, a mix of
sweat, soap, and chlorine. Boys stood at the lockers, stripping here and there,
Duo keeping them strictly out of his line of sight, but his face was bright red
and his heart was racing. It hadn’t start to hurt yet, but Duo knew that it
would, soon. He couldn’t do this, he decided. He had to figure out a way to get
out of this. The worst part wasn’t even how anxious he was, but that his cock
still hadn’t gone down from earlier.
    Duo kept his shirt pulled down as he walked past the showers towards some
bathroom stalls. He didn’t know much about public bathing, but he was pretty
sure a guy with a hard on wouldn’t be well received. Could this day possibly
get any worse? Suddenly, a boy, completely nude, ran in front of him to the
sinks on the wall near the stalls, apparently to grab one of the shampoo
bottles perched on the shelf above a sink. Duo got a bare glimpse of a decent
sized, uncircumcised cock before he could look away. His heart skipped two
whole beats before righting itself again and he blushed so hard, it traveled
down his neck.
    ‘God,’ Duo prayed half-heartedly, ‘If you’re listening like Sister says you
always are, please let me get through this without dying or making me look like
a complete idiot. Thanks.’
    He hurried into one of the stalls and locked the door behind him, though
the lock was flimsy, halfway to broken. He put the toilet seat down and sat on
it, wrapping his arms around his book bag. This might work… if he stayed in
here long enough, maybe the other boys would all leave and he could take a
shower by himself. He wondered if the door to the locker room locked… probably
not, but if he was the last one to shower, that wouldn’t be a problem.
Although, if he took too long, Sister Helen might worry about him…
    ‘Is this what you’re going to do every day?’ a cruel voice deep inside of
his head asked, ‘Just sit in the bathroom, waiting for the other guys to leave
as Helen waits for you to come home? Pathetic.’
    Unlike the other voice from before, this one sounded more like his father.
Duo knew that the voices weren’t real, it was just a part of his overactive
imagination, but it hurt to have his own thoughts thrown at him through the
voice of his dead father. It was even in the same insulting tone he would use.
Pathetic… his father had often called him that and though Duo had been too
young to understand what that word meant, the tone itself had hurt. And then,
when he did find out what it meant, that definition had tainted those memories
of his dad.
    ‘It won’t be so bad,’ he told himself, ’I’ll think of something to tell her
and it isn’t like it’s going to take me an hour to shower. I just…’
    He blushed even harder, remembering the naked boy he had seen earlier and
wondered what it would be like to have the courage to do that, to just walk
around other guys completely in the nude. He shuddered, trying to imagine
himself doing that, taking his clothes off and washing himself in front of
people. How did the other boys do that?
    ‘I just can’t handle doing that,’ he decided.
    He sat there for a minute, just listening to the loud laughter echoing from
the showers. He then realized that his penis had finally become limp again.
Hearing his father’s voice in his head, hissing at him that he was pathetic,
had been better than the coldest shower. That one word always drained any
happiness and self confidence he had. Maybe he would remember that the next
time he woke up with a hard on, but hearing that voice… it was bad, a sin, but
he would rather have a hard cock and think dirty thoughts than remember his
father saying that to him.
    After a little while, the sounds outside the stall started to diminish.
After about ten minutes, Duo had to strain to hear any noise, then there was
nothing. His arms still wrapped around his back pack, Duo snuck out of the
stall. The little bathroom area was empty, but Duo was still nervous.
    “Hello?” he called out anxiously.
    His voice echoed in the locker room and no one responded. He suddenly felt
very ridiculous, calling out to an empty locker room like he was some kind of
thief or a girl in a horror movie, checking to see if there was a monster
hiding in some dark corner. What the hell was wrong with him? He was so
disgusted with himself sometimes. It was that disgust that made him ignore the
urge to check every nook and cranny for people. This was supposed to give him
confidence, he thought. Kevin was wrong. In the time that he had been in this
school, he had only felt more useless and scared, not better. But he had
promised himself that he would go through with this. He wouldn’t disappoint his
family. If he couldn’t even take a shower in an empty locker room, he might as
well just lay down and die right now.     
    But, even if he could think that, his heart was still shuddering in his
chest unpleasantly as he walked into the shower part of the locker room. It was
just a wide open room, tiled the same way the rest of the locker room was.
There were no stalls or curtains, just shower heads and individual knobs for
the water. There was a drain in the floor and a few shelves on the walls that
held bars of soap and bottles of shampoo. There was still steam in the air from
the showers. The place reminded Duo of a prison movie he had seen once and he
grimaced at the analogy. The tiny showers at the church were more welcoming to
him than this large room. There was a long bench near the showers, but far away
enough that nothing on it would get wet. He put his book bag on it and, giving
another nervous glance around, started to undress.
*****    
    It had been painfully easy to stalk their new prey. Actually, stalking
wasn’t really the right word, since the kid had done all their work for them by
waiting for everyone else to leave. All Quatre and Heero had had to do was keep
out of his sight and wait for the right moment, the moment he was vulnerable
and didn’t have a chance of running away. Heero had to smirk at the boy’s
skittishness. He really was like a baby rabbit, too shy to even shower with
other boys. He wondered how someone like that would react to what they wanted
to do to him. When Heero watched him walk into the shower room, his cock
immediately hardened in anticipation. It had been a long summer.
    The remaining steam in the room hid Quatre and Heero from the boy’s vision
as he sat on the bench and started to pull off his sneakers and socks. They
could watch his every move and never be seen, not because they were so good at
hiding, but because the kid seemed oblivious. He would just turn the right way,
he would realize that he was being watched by two hungry wolves, but after the
first, nervous glance around, he hadn’t looked again. They would have to teach
him a lesson about that. The freshman was meticulous as he pulled off his
socks, placing them flat on the bench next to his sneakers. The way he laid
them out was almost prissy or anal, but Heero found it cute, the way a little
kid would try to fold clothes or straighten up.
    Next to Heero, Quatre licked his lips as the violet-eyed boy shrugged off
his jacket, then slipped his shirt up, over his shoulders, showing them a great
view of his back, then folded the clothes just as meticulously on the bench. He
saw with excitement that the boy’s back was as pale as his face and hands. It
was smooth, his shoulders not very wide, and his back slimmed into a narrow
waist at his jeans, but it was a masculine back, with light muscles and a bit
of strength to it, though under-developed. It became clear to the both of them
that the boy hadn’t spent a whole lot of time in the sun or doing much
exercise, perhaps because of the medical condition that had kept him out of gym
class today, but he certainly didn’t look ill.
    Heero almost growled in irritation as the kid took his shirt off first,
instead of his hat. He swore to himself that the first order he gave their prey
would be to burn the damn thing. It didn’t suit him at all. Then, he tensed as
the boy’s shoulders flexed slightly and he started to unzip his jeans. Heero
and Quatre watched, almost breathless, as those slender hands pushed jeans and
boxers down narrow hips. Quatre smirked as he, finally, got a good look at the
freshman’s body. His ass was perfect, small, tight, and soft, the roundness
defined and shaped well to his body. Though the boy was fairly short, his legs
were long and as unblemished as the rest of him. Puberty had treated him well,
leaving him with no pimples that Quatre could see, and those legs looked smooth
and hairless, making him wonder if the boy shaved or just had really fine, fair
hair.
    They watched as he folded the rest of his clothes and laid them out neatly
as well, still not able to see his front very well. Quatre licked his lips as
the boy bent down to grab a bottle of shampoo that had been carelessly left
under the bench. His erection throbbed in his gym shorts, begging for release
and Quatre fantasized what it would be like to sink it deep into those rounded
globes… They hadn’t had a virgin since Wufei and Quatre knew that this boy
hadn’t been touched by anyone. Or if he had, it hadn’t been consensual. No one
that had proper sexual experience would be this body shy. Suddenly, the boy
reached up with the hand that wasn’t holding the shampoo bottle, and pulled the
hat off.
    “Holy shit,” Quatre muttered as quietly as he could, overwhelmed by what he
was seeing.
    Heero’s breath hitched in his throat. He had almost passed this boy by
because of that stupid hat… Hair that reminded Heero of waterfalls and fiery
sunlight fell out of the hat, tumbling down his shoulder blades and resting
around his ass. As the boy tugged off the rubber band holding it into a long
braid, unwinding it, it shimmered like water. It was similar to Zechs’s hair,
silky and mostly straight, but abundant, a beautiful light chestnut streaked
with red and gold. Why would anyone want to hide that? His bangs were long, and
the golden brown color made the boy’s indigo eyes seem luminescent. That hair,
to Heero, made the kid look like a fox with soft, downy fur, or the rabbit that
he kept thinking the boy as. Perhaps a longhaired cat.
    Hair that long didn’t seem natural, especially on a boy. His pubic hair was
the same mix of colors, fine and thin instead of thick and curly. Heero almost
had a hard time containing himself as the boy turned the water on and it
streamed down his back and between the soft cheeks of his ass, his hair
becoming plastered to that pale back, but knew it wasn’t time yet.
    Duo tilted his head back as he stood underneath the spray of water and
moaned at the feeling of the hot water. As much as he loathed the whole ‘naked
in a public place’ thing, the hot water felt nice. He realized that this could
be a good thing. If he waited for everyone to leave, he could take a shower in
private, and even better, he could actually take a shower longer than ten
minutes and still have hot water through the whole thing.     At the church, he
always took short showers, not just because the water ran out easily, but
because the cleaner the other kids were, the more likely they would be adopted.
There were no kids yelling at you to hurry up, no guilt about using up the hot
water… This wasn’t so bad. Duo smiled a little, letting the water drench his
hair. He turned the hot water on as high as he dared, more steam filling the
room and the temperature turned his pale skin a light pink.
    He poured a ton of shampoo into his hands and started to wash his hair,
then poured even more and soaped up his stomach, chest, and shoulders. He
usually didn’t use this much, but screw it, he thought. The shampoo was free
and he didn’t have to ration it for once. He could take his sweet time and
really focus on getting clean. After the stressful day he had just had, it felt
really relaxing. As he washed his cock, he remembered the erection from before
with shame. He still couldn’t understand it. He wanted to believe that that boy
hadn’t really touched him, that it had just been in his head.
    It seemed plausible. Why would a guy as attractive as that brunette kid
want to squeeze his butt for, when there were plenty of pretty girls around? He
didn’t know which would have been worse, that he had been sexually harassed or
if it had been in his head. If he had just imagined it and had gotten aroused
from that, that meant there was something wrong with him. He was sick or
perverted or something and it might happen again. He rubbed the soap underneath
his cock and on the top of his sack. What if it did happen again? Ever since he
was a kid, he had been told that masturbation was wrong, but somewhere in the
back of his mind, he had always wondered why that was.
    If having an erection made you dirty, shouldn’t you do anything to get rid
of it? Or rather… wasn’t masturbation supposed to feel good? He didn’t think
that guys jacked off because it was boring or hurt or something like that. If
masturbation was wrong, then why had God made it so you felt good when you did
it? He had thought about that a lot. Even if he had never tried it, it was just
hard for him to understand why it was such a bad thing. He never corrected
Sister Helen about it, though. What was the point? It wasn’t like he was
actually going to try it. He had never felt any desire to, and if he did, and
Sister found out about it, he would be too ashamed of himself.
    He had always been like that, even before his father had killed his mother.
Disobeying someone seemed so pointless to him, he just couldn’t bring himself
to do it. With his father, he had been too powerless and doing something bad
just led to pain. With Sister Helen and Father Maxwell, disobedience just made
them sad, which made him feel just as bad as being hit. They had taken him in
at a time in his life when there had been only darkness, everyone he loved,
dead, they had given him shelter, food, and had attempted to give him an
education. He felt like he owed them his very life and the least he could do
was listen to them and try to make them happy. He had always thought of it that
way.
    He knew that, if he did get an erection again like today, if he did… take
care of it… Sister Helen wouldn’t find out. But still, something in his gut
told him that it would feel wrong anyway. He told himself constantly that
things like that would feel wrong because God would know about it, but he knew
that was a lie. He had known, for quite some time now, that he followed his
religious teachings, not because he was worried about God finding out that he
was bad, but about Sister Helen. So, why was it, he wondered, that he found
himself praying to God if it didn’t matter to him? It had to matter. It was
just that he could see Sister’s disappointed face and not God’s. That had to be
the reason.
    The memory of that boy touching him, squeezing his ass, flashed before him.
He remembered the feeling of that strong, steady hand touching him, the
possibility that someone might find him attractive had excited him in that
moment. He remembered that strange shock of warmth that had gone through him.
Suddenly, in his hand, his cock hardened again, just a little bit. His face
grew red again. So, he was a sick pervert, thinking about another boy touching
him… the first time might have been a fluke, but this… he chewed on his lip and
little and rubbed at his erect penis with his thumb. He had never actually…
touched himself when he was like this even in curiosity.
    It really did feel hard, the flesh rigid and red. It was hot, too, and not
just from the water, but still felt silken. If that boy had really touched him…
had he been attracted to him? Had he felt aroused from touching him… had his
cock felt like this? Duo had this sudden, incredible urge to wrap his hand
around his member and see what it really felt like to masturbate. He took his
hand off of himself as though his cock had grown as hot as molten lead and his
stomach twisted up, making him feel ill. He was going to hell. Not only was he
thinking about jacking off, he was thinking about another boy… he had gotten
aroused by being touched by a man, not a woman… as much as he felt that being
gay wasn’t as wrong as Sister Helen thought… that he had gotten a hard on just
from that one touch from a boy made him feel strange. There was no way anyone,
let alone a guy, could be attracted to him anyway.
    A strong hand grabbed his wrist and another covered his mouth, blocking the
shocked gasp that tried to escape from Duo’s throat. Duo’s heart constricted,
then started to hammer in fear. He started to hyperventilate at the feeling of
fingers digging into his wrist. His captor pressed against his back and Duo
could feel a clothed erection sliding in between his ass cheeks. His cock went
from just slightly hard to almost completely hard in a second and Duo felt
dizzy. What was wrong with him? He couldn’t… he couldn’t be aroused from this…
This was wrong, this person was probably a bully, like Sister Helen had warned
about, and wanted to hurt him, why did he feel good about that erection
pressing against him? Why did his body suddenly feel warm? He tried to scream
in protest and the hand tightened around his mouth.
    “You can scream if you like,” a vaguely familiar voice whispered teasingly
in Duo’s ear, his captor’s warm breath sliding over his skin and making his
body throb with something that Duo couldn’t name, “but Mr. Wilks is probably
still in his office. What will you do if he hears it and comes running? He
won’t stop this, you know? He’ll just stare at you. Can you really handle him
finding you like this?”
    Duo’s heart raced faster and faster and he started to feel dizzy again. He
imagined the harsh, arrogant teacher running in here and getting an eyeful of
his naked body, his aroused cock, and this man pressed against him. Would he be
disgusted, or have a laugh at his expense? Duo flinched as he felt his heart
restrict and skip a few beats just at the thought of someone finding him like
this.
    No, he wouldn’t scream, he couldn’t scream. What did it say about him, that
he would rather have this person hurt him than risk having someone see him? If
he was going to get out of this somehow, he had to do it on his own, but the
hot body pressed against him, the feeling of a strong chest against his bare
back and those hands on his mouth and wrist felt impossible to remove, bigger
than his own. Duo thrashed against his captor, trying to fight against the
dizziness and his weak heart, but the man was well prepared for that and just
tightened his grip again.
    The hand covering his mouth suddenly let go of him and trailed down his
body, the fingertips running a line of fire down his naked chest and stomach.
Duo gasped out loudly as that hand wrapped around his cock. What was this guy
doing? Wasn’t he supposed to be beating him up or something? But… he was just
touching… and… and it felt kind of nice. He wasn’t holding him hard enough to
hurt and the sensation of a stranger’s fingers on his penis made that warm
spark go through him again. This shouldn’t feel good… he thrashed against his
captor again, but still couldn’t force him off of him. The backwards movement
only made the man’s clothed, erect cock slide completely between his butt
cheeks. He heard the man moan in his ear and he flushed bright red. This boy
couldn’t possibly be getting off from this… that wasn’t what this was about,
was it?
    Duo cried out as the hand around his erection started to slide up and down
it, softly. His eyes slid closed as pleasure pooled in his gut and his cock
gave a strange twitch that it never had before. His knees felt weak and for a
second, he forgot all about his heart. He could feel it racing, but it didn’t
hurt him. That hand started to speed up and Duo trembled. It felt good. Really,
really good. His breaths started to come out fast and he felt his balls tighten
against his body. Was this what jacking off really felt like? It was like… like
slipping into a warm bath, but more than that. It was exciting and it made him
want to arch his back, to just relax and let this person do what they wanted,
even though there was a little voice in his head screaming at him that that was
wrong and sick.
    Quatre kept his hand around the boy’s swollen penis, tightening his grip
even though the long haired boy had stopped fighting him all of a sudden. At
this point, Wufei had tried to elbow Heero in the stomach, but this kid just
stilled, out of shock or arousal, Quatre wasn’t sure, but it was an interesting
reaction. The little bunny was so adorable, his cock long and pale like the
rest of him, not to mention sensitive as hell. He was barely touching him and
his dick was as hard as a rock, starting to drip and Quatre knew it wasn’t from
the water.
    The soft globes of his ass felt so good surrounding his own erection,
trapped in his gym shorts. He wished he was naked so he could slide his cock
between those cheeks and feel how soft they really were on his skin, but stayed
dressed for now, though the warm water drenched his clothed. It didn’t really
matter to Quatre, he was too busy feeling the high of a successful hunt to care
much about soaked clothes. It was the best feeling in the entire world, holding
some boy whose name he didn’t even now and feel him respond to his touch like a
long time lover. It was so rare to find a boy that was actually interesting,
attractive, and gay, especially in a town like this that wasn’t so open to
‘alternative sexualities’. Just a complex word for conservative, closed minded
bullshit in his opinion.
    As rare as it was to find a boy that piqued their interest and would
respond to them, it was rarer to find one that enjoyed the rough handling they
gave their pets. Even Zechs had had to be worked up to it. When they had pinned
him down and restrained him, he had fought. When they had tied Wufei down, they
had had to spend full minutes working him up to arousal, the black eyed boy too
nervous to be fully excited at first. Of course, they always did enjoy it in
the end, but they had had to be taught to find pleasure in the rough stuff.
    But this kid… Quatre was holding his wrist so tightly, he knew his fair
skin was bruising, and his grip on his cock wasn’t exactly gentle. Anyone else
would be limp with fear, having someone bigger and stronger pressed against
them this way, not even being able to see them. But this bunny was hard and hot
in his hand, his breathing hard and aroused. Even if the boy didn’t realize it,
he liked being trapped and manhandled. If he didn’t, just this touch on his
dick wouldn’t be enough to keep him from trying to hit Quatre and he certainly
wouldn’t be this hard up. Quatre’s theory about that gained more credibility
when he took his hand away from the chestnut-haired boy’s mouth and the boy
didn’t try to scream. He didn’t make any sound at all except for those heavy
pants. There was no begging or pleading or even crying. He couldn’t help but
smirk as he realized that Heero had been right. This one was very susceptible.
    Duo’s captor finally let go of his mouth, but Duo barely realized it. The
grip around his cock was harsh, but the friction as that hand moved up and down
and was wonderful. He didn’t think to scream or fight, only how good it felt
and how anything could possibly feel like that. He felt a red haze filling his
mind. His cock was twitching and it felt wet for some reason. Wet and hot. It
wasn’t from the water, something else… his heart was pounding, but the pain he
had felt when he had first gotten grabbed was fading. Why… why wasn’t he having
an attack from this? He should be, his heart was going too fast… but he just
felt… he felt like he was at peace and on fire at the same time. His balls kept
tightening. Was he going to climax? Was that what this felt like? He couldn’t
even think clearly enough to be embarrassed by this, just confused about what
was happening, why this person was touching him there, why he wasn’t trying to
get away anymore…
    Men weren’t supposed to touch men like this… the way this person’s body was
pressed against his back, the hand on his genitals… wasn’t this the way a man
was supposed to touch a woman? Wasn’t this wrong? His stomach twisted and he
thought, in horror, about Sister Helen walking in on this. And yet, there was
some small part of himself that protested. This wasn’t wrong, it screamed, how
could something that feel like this possibly be wrong? It felt… good, right
almost. This was escalating far beyond a bully teasing a helpless freshman.
This was rape. That should terrify him, and it did, in a way. He wanted to
throw up and punch the person touching him. He was scared that he wouldn’t be
able to get out of this, of all the things that this person wanted to do to
him, but he was too naïve to name.
    He didn’t want to be raped, who would want something like that? But he felt
conflicted between fear and pleasure, not wanting the person to stop touching
him, wanting more of something that he didn’t understand, but not wanting to be
forced into this. He wanted to run, go back to something familiar and safe,
like praying with Sister Helen, but his body didn’t want to listen to his
common sense. Duo suddenly had a stray, terrible thought emerge: He didn’t want
to be rescued. He didn’t want some knight in shining armor bursting into the
shower room and beating up his captor. He wanted to see where this ended,
wanted to see what it felt like. It was a wrong, horrible thought. His life had
been filled with loneliness and coldness, and this touch on his skin felt warm
and inviting, but that was wrong. Wasn’t it?
    Duo felt an immense hatred for himself at that moment. Here he was, letting
a man feel him up and jack him off, all because it felt good. Where were his
morals? Where was his shame? His heart tightened and he felt dizzy again. This
wasn’t affection, this was violence. This was someone stealing something from
him, just because he couldn’t fight back. Why did it comfort him, that touch,
knowing that this was criminal? Why did it feel inviting when he knew that he
was being sexually harassed and molested? He felt his heart beats start to
become weak.
    His entire life, he had hated violence, had loathed it. His mom and dad had
been dead for nine years now, but he still remembered the abuse his father had
put him and his mother through as vividly as if it had happened today. He
remembered the constant fighting and screaming. He remembered what it felt like
when his father grabbed his arm hard enough to bruise and break. He remembered
the blows and the pain. He remembered the overwhelming fear, wondering when he
would do something wrong, when his father would come after him next. He
remembered how much he had hated himself every time his father had yelled at
him and called him names. He even remembered how his father’s personality and
anger had literally controlled every aspect of Duo’s life.
    But, more than anything, he remembered with a vividness that shouldn’t be
possible, the horror of watching that knife sink into his mother’s flesh and
the knowledge that it was his father’s hand on that knife, the thick, nasty
smell of blood in the air, and knowing that it hadn’t been an accident. He
hated violence more than anything. Just the thought of hitting this person
holding him made him sick inside. And yet… the way they were holding him, so
rough and controlling, was so achingly familiar, it was almost comforting. No
one had held him like this since his father had died. That should be good, he
knew that logically, but something in his heart felt soothed by it.
    As he realized that, the pain in his chest backed off again, making him
feel confused. He had almost had an attack today just from standing up in
class. The humiliation that had given him had nearly brought him to his knees.
Compared to that, he should be on the floor right now, his heart still and
useless, but he could hear it beating, fast and racing, but there was no pain
or dizziness. It didn’t make any sense to him. Another stray thought came to
him, just as terrible and disturbing, faint, but powerful.
    ‘If someone that loved me were to touch me like this… that would be the
best thing in the entire world.’
    Duo squeezed his eyes shut, as though he could deny the strange thought.
What the hell was wrong with him?! Sister Helen had raised him better than
this, he wasn’t some sort of sick pervert that liked being manhandled by
another man! He… he wasn’t like that… he was a good person, had tried so hard
to be ever since…
    The sound of footsteps made Duo open his eyes again. Was someone coming to
his rescue? He didn’t know why they would, he hadn’t made a sound. Instead of a
teacher, he saw the boy that had helped him earlier with his books, now wearing
jeans and a black t-shirt instead of his gym uniform. He had a leather jacket
draped over one of his arms and, instead of rushing to help Duo, he simply put
it on the bench next to Duo’s clothes. It gave Duo a jolt, seeing his clothes
mixing with that jacket and he had no idea why. It wasn’t an unpleasant jolt,
either. There was a long jump rope that had wooden, hourglass shaped handles
dangling from his hands. The brunette’s demeanor was completely different from
earlier. The kindness had been replaced with something that Duo could only
describe as intense and feral. He knew, without any doubt in his mind, that
this boy was not going to help him. So why, he thought, on the verge of crying,
why had he helped him before? Because it was funny?
    Like before, Duo was startled by the boy’s attractiveness. His eyes were
such a pretty, dark blue, like the sky just before sunset, his dark hair silky
and thick. He didn’t get the chance to wonder why he was finding any boy
attractive at all as he felt the boy who was holding him rub his thumb against
the underside of his cock, the soft digit trailing up, tracing up the engorged
head and digging his nail into the slit there. Duo couldn’t stop the loud groan
from escaping his lips as sparks of pleasure traveled down the length of his
dick, filling his stomach with an intense heat. He could feel something wet and
warm dripping from that tip and down the boy’s fingers. He felt his captor bury
his nose into his hair, smelling his neck, and heard them moan against him,
rubbing their hips against his ass, that clothed erection parting his cheeks
slightly.
    “Your hair is so beautiful,” the boy murmured, “Such a pretty color, little
rabbit.”
    ‘If I’m a rabbit,’ Duo thought in fear, ‘Then these two are hungry wolves…’
    Then, what the boy had said struck him like a physical blow. His… his hair
was beautiful? No one had complimented his hair before. Even Sister Helen
didn’t say it was pretty. She always looked pained when she looked at his hair,
like the fact that they couldn’t give him a proper hair cut without him looking
like a blind person had done it was somehow her fault.  That was part of why he
went through such pains to hide it from the world. No one had ever said
anything good about it, let alone that it was beautiful… His heart throbbed,
but it had nothing to do with his health problems. He felt a warmth that had
nothing to do with sex or physical pleasure. When he felt his captor trail his
tongue over his neck, Duo didn’t fight him, too confused and conflicted to know
what to do. These two were bullying him, they might do something terrible to
him, but all he could think of all of a sudden was that at least one of them
found his hair, something he had always thought had made him hideous,
beautiful. Soft lips pressed against his thin neck, unknowing to the boy
holding him, very close to the scar his father had given him, and the tongue
swiped over his pale skin again, making Duo shiver at the intimacy of it.
    Heero caught Quatre’s stare, the both of them highly aroused and eager to
continue with the game. Heero motioned to the floor against the wall and Quatre
smirked, understanding easily what his brother wanted to do with their prey. He
let go of the chestnut haired boy and shoved him forward. The second that Duo
felt that he had been released, he came back to himself.
    “Leave me alone!” he yelled, suddenly not caring if anyone heard him, too
busy with trying to get away.
    He took a desperate swing at the boy who had been holding him blindly, not
really seeing anything but blurs as some soap slid in his eyes. It was weak and
halfhearted as he didn’t actually want to hit anyone. He couldn’t hit anyone,
hurt anyone, not ever, but he hoped that it would make the two boys think twice
about coming after him. It didn’t. Strong hands grabbed his wrists and
shoulders, pushing him against the wall and pushing him down until he was
sitting on the wet floor, warm water falling down on him. He felt harsh rope
wrap tightly around his wrists and his arms were lifted up until his butt was
almost off the floor, his back stretched, and the rope was tied to the knob
above him. He struggled against the rope, but it had been tied too tight and he
couldn’t shake free of it. He hung there, feeling very much like a rabbit that
had been caught in a hunter’s trap.
    The pain in his chest came back full force at the feeling of being
completely helpless and trapped. Would they hurt him badly? How was he going to
get out of here? And worse of all, Sister Helen was going to be so worried
about him… This was worse than having some man pressed against his back. He was
completely exposed now. They could see every inch of him. Because of how his
upper body was stretched, he couldn’t curl up and try to hide his front. All he
could do was try to keep his legs closed, but even that hid almost nothing. His
heart raced unpleasantly, skipping a few beats here and there. He felt the
ridiculousness of his situation immediately. His chest was hurting, not because
he was tied up or that he was going to be hurt, who knew how badly, but out of
embarrassment from being so exposed. How pathetic was he?
    Heero couldn’t remember the last time he had been this turned on. Wufei had
been cute, but the deep, dark blush on this boy’s face was pricelessly
adorable. He kept his legs tightly closed, but as he and Quatre had forced him
to the floor, he had gotten a delicious look at thin, reddish pubic hair
surrounding a long, pale, hard cock, white, ghostly thighs… so different from
Wufei’s tanned ones or Zechs and Trowa’s peach colored ones. When Wufei had
fought them, he had put his whole heart into it, kicking and punching like a
wildcat, but this pale slip of a boy punched like Trowa’s dog barked, in
warning, without any heat or intention to hurt. Right now, most boys would be
screaming and ranting at them, but this boy just looked confused and thoroughly
embarrassed.
    Water continued to pour into Duo’s eyes and the soap finally washed out. He
looked up at his captors, his vision still just a tiny bit blurry, but mostly
clear. His violet eyes widened and he paled as he saw both of his attackers for
the very first time. The boy that had molested him was the blonde from earlier
and was wearing navy gym shorts and a black t-shirt. There was something about
them that seemed similar, though they had different features. But mostly, it
was the way they stood close to each other and looked at each other that told
him that these two were more than just friends.
    Fraternal twins, he realized. What the hell were the odds of that? He was
only able to realize it because of the fraternal twins that had died of
pneumonia. They had looked at each other like that, like they were thinking the
same things, like they could communicate everything just with a look. Fraternal
twins could be just as close as identical ones and these two certainly seemed
to be.
    “Please,” he begged, his voice hoarse for some reason, “Please just let me
go. I… I don’t have any money or anything, but please, just stop…”
    To his dismay, the twins smiled at each other and to him, their smiles were
cruel. He realized at that moment that there was absolutely nothing he could do
to stop this. He was helpless, entirely in their control. He might as well just
lay back and let them do what they wanted because they were going to do it
regardless. And why, why did that thought comfort him instead of terrify him?
Why did surrendering to these bullies make him feel better when he should be
scared at being so helpless?
    “What are you going to do to me?” he whispered, though he was scared to
know the answer.
    Quatre grinned down at him.
    “We’re going to play a game, little bunny,” he teased.
    Duo felt a chill go through him. They thought that this was a game? They
thought that molesting him and tying him up was just a bit of fun? It made him
angry and scared at the same time. If this was just one big game to them, that
meant that they didn't care what happened to him, about going too far. The
blonde’s answer to his question hadn't actually told him anything at all. His
breath hitched a little as the boy wearing the gym shorts knelt down on his
knees and lightly touched Duo's bare chest. Those strong fingers found his
nipples and pinched them, making Duo grit his teeth. The older boy ran his
thumbs against the tips and Duo felt a strange heat blossom there. It was just
like when he had touched his cock, it felt weird, but good, little sparks of
pleasure running down his body. He groaned a tiny bit as those fingers caressed
the sensitive flesh, working them between his fingertips, then caressing them
with his thumbs. His chest felt and groin throbbed with every little caress.
    “I... I'm not a girl,” Duo stammered in protest, even as he struggled with
the sensations the boy was giving him.
    This definitely shouldn't feel good, Duo thought. He wasn't a girl, he
didn't have breasts and his nipples shouldn't be this sensitive, but they were.
It felt nice, the rubbing and caressing. His pale, pink nipples became hard and
peaked with the boy's touch and there was some part of him that wanted those
fingers to touch him more.
    Quatre laughed at the boy's words. The bunny was so innocent, thinking that
they wanted a girl, that they had targeted him just because his hair was long
or he was on the small side. This freshman really had no idea what the real
world was like, that a pretty little boy like him was desirable and it had
nothing to do with femininity. True, he was pretty, but he was definitely
masculine. The hard erection straining upwards, between his legs was anything
but feminine. Even as his nipples hardened between Quatre's fingers, they felt
soft, like flower petals, and were a faint pink. Every time he rubbed the tips
of this thumbs against them, the chestnut haired boy made a small sound, almost
like a gasp, but not quite. Quatre doubted that anyone had touched him like
this, let alone in this spot.
    “I'm well aware of that,” he leaned close enough to press his chest against
the boy's and whispered in his ear.
    Quatre moved to the side slightly, still playing with the pale boy, as
Heero knelt down next to him and shoved his knee in between Duo's closed legs,
forcing them apart roughly. To Duo's shame, something dripped down his cock
from the slit and the organ gave a desperate twitch at the feeling of his legs
opening wide, his genitals completely exposed. Heero smirked as he saw the
boy's reaction. He might be embarrassed by his exposure, but his body seemed to
like it enough. If only they could get past this boy's automatic, shy
reactions, they could make a proper slut out of him.
    Heero moved his knee forward and slowly rubbed the violet-eyed boy's cock,
his pre-cum dripping onto his jeans and soaking into the cloth. Duo moaned
louder this time as he felt the rough denim rub into his sensitive skin, then
traveled down to his balls, grinding against them harshly. The feeling was
incredible, even more intense then when the other boy had been stroking his
cock earlier. The haze in his mind was growing, warring with his more logical
thoughts about escape and embarrassment. When that knee was caressing him,
grinding into his cock and balls, he suddenly didn't care about how exposed he
was or how unattractive his thin, pale body must look.
    “That's what makes it so amazing,” he murmured, moving his knee so that it
was lifting up Duo's sack and rubbed the underside of it.
    Duo closed his eyes, his heart racing, at the new sensation. Heero focused
on his expression, not realizing that his heart was pounding like Duo's was at
the sight of his blushing face and parted lips. He wanted to kiss them, to see
how soft and wet they would be, but it was too soon for that.
    “We have no use for blubbering, delicate women,” Heero told him heatedly,
looking down at Duo's engorged cock that was still dripping onto his leg.
    The long length was starting to become red from hardness, not quite painful
looking, but it was getting there quickly. Duo squirmed as the other twin
pinched his nipples even harder, bringing Duo's attention back to him, then
pressed his face into the crook of his neck. A deft tongue trailed up his neck,
soft and wet and warm, tracing long lines. Suddenly, blunt teeth bit down on
the side of his neck, making Duo flinch.
    'He bit me,' Duo thought, wondering why that realization was so
overwhelming, like a vampire or wolf biting their mate.
    Almost in apology, the boy's lips pressed against his injured skin and
sucked lightly on it, followed by that maddening tongue. Duo continued to
squirm between the gentle licking and the rough grinding that the other brother
was doing against his balls. This was insane. He hadn’t even known that his
body could feel this way, it was wonderful and frightening, all at once.
    His cock felt tight and he could feel it throbbing, but there was still a
part of himself that wanted to stop this, that didn’t want to orgasm. If he
didn’t, then nothing else counted… he could just say he had been assaulted, but
if he did, that meant he had enjoyed it. Still, as the boy who was attacking
his balls with his knee suddenly moved away from him, he couldn’t help but
whimper in disappointment. He glanced down at himself and saw how fat and red
his cock was. It was wrong and embarrassing. It had never looked like this
before in his entire life, so why now? Why, during the one moment in his life
when it shouldn’t look like that? The boy wearing the shorts caught Duo looking
down and grasped the head of his dick lightly in his hand, making Duo shudder.
He couldn’t possibly feel more sensitive and overwhelmed. He felt like he was
overflowing with each little touch, but they kept doing more and more to him.
    “Your cock is so cute,” Quatre said in a soft, cooing town, his fingers
stroking the slit and tracing the rounded crown, soaking the tips with pre-cum,
“Look, it’s drooling! Just like a dog desperate for a piece of steak, or in
this case, a proper pet.”
    Quatre took Heero’s place, shoving his knee against Duo’s sack and rubbing
harder than Heero had. At the same time, he tightened his grip around the dick
in his hand, loving how hot and slick it felt. Duo arched his back slightly,
groaning as his cock and balls were molested again. He couldn’t take much more
of this… he could feel it in how tight his whole body was. He wondered about
that, how you could have never had an orgasm in your entire life, but still
knew when you were going to have one. It was like it was wired into the body,
as natural as knowing how to breathe or when you were about to fall asleep.
    “This… this isn’t right…” he said desperately, but his words sounded
pathetic even to him.
    Quatre grabbed his chin, forcing Duo to look up at him. Duo blushed at the
intensity in those blue-green eyes. It made him feel like the boy could see
into his soul, that he wanted to devour him.
    “Don’t worry,” the blonde boy said with a wolfish grin, “We’ll prove to you
how wrong you are about that.”
    Quatre let go of his chin and Duo quickly looked away. They weren’t going
to stop… no matter how much he pleaded or begged. This was just a game and Duo
was the only one here with anything to lose, so why would they stop? It might
feel good, but Duo had been taught that pleasure like this was a sin. He didn’t
think these two knew that, or if they did know that what they were doing was
wrong, they just didn’t care.
    ‘And why do you care?’ that strange voice that kept throwing odd, stray
thoughts at him asked, almost snidely, ‘Why are you so focused on what God says
you should do when God let Daddy kill Solo and Mom? He let Daddy stab Mommy
over and over and over… He let Solo and Officer Brennen get shot and they were
good people! Officer Brennen was even like Sister Helen, he loved God, too, but
he still died. He let Daddy kill himself. If God loves you, like Sister Helen
says He does, why didn’t He stop you from trying to run away? Why did He let
you make Daddy kill himself? Why are you so concerned doing what He says you
should do, when God has taken everything away from you? In reality, aren’t you
just punishing yourself because of what you did to Daddy?’
    Duo squeezed his eyes shut. That wasn’t true… God didn’t let those things
happen… It was his fault, not God’s, and he did care about doing what God
wanted him to do… wasn’t that why his heart was beating so fast right now,
because he knew that this was wrong, that he was sick for liking it, even just
a little bit?
    ‘Sister Helen isn’t right all the time,’ Duo thought despite himself,
‘She’s wrong about gay people, isn’t she? So… so maybe she’s…’
    He cut that thought off, not able to handle where it might lead. He
couldn’t accept that. Duo felt the one brother stand up and the other take his
place, keeping Duo off balance and confused. The dark blue eyed boy’s lips
quirked upwards in a strange smile, one that Duo wanted to think was
affectionate and softer than his brother’s, but was sure he was just seeing
things. The older boy leaned in close to Duo’s cock and he could feel his hot
breath ghosting over his stimulated flesh, making his heart constrict. A pink
tongue darted out and trailed over his erection, making Duo gasp out loudly.
    The muscle dancing over his flesh was hot, slick, and strong, making nerve
endings that Duo didn’t even know he had awaken. He wanted to protest, to say
that it couldn’t taste good, putting someone’s cock in your mouth. Besides,
this person was in charge, the rapist, so why was he licking his victim’s dick?
Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Then, the brunette wrapped his lips
around the head of his cock and slid all the way down to the base, surrounding
Duo’s member with an incredible, wet heat.
    Duo cried out, his head falling back and he clutched desperately at the
rope that kept him suspended to the knob. All thoughts about right and wrong
fled his mind and the red haze exploded. He panted as that wonderful mouth slid
up and down his penis, the talented tongue wrapping around him, caressing him
with the tip, then twirling around the crown. God… it felt so good… so
incredible… why was he fighting against this? All he wanted to do was move, to
thrust into the welcoming heat and wetness surrounding him, but the boy had his
hands on Duo’s hips, keeping him still. It was maddening.
    His heart skipped a few beats again, the stress of wanting to move and
worrying about what the older boy must think of his cock in his mouth
overwhelming him. Did it disgust him, would he laugh at him for being so
sensitive? He couldn’t think of a single reason why someone would want to do
this for him and it was making him panic. He wasn’t good enough to feel this
kind of pleasure. He didn’t deserve it. He felt his heart weaken. It was
happening… it was going to stop, just like before… but, somehow, with this
boy’s mouth around him, making him feel things he had never felt before,
awakening something deep inside of him, Duo was struggling to even care that he
might die.
    He opened his eyes and looked down. It was a strange sight, seeing his
tormentor’s soft lips wrapped around his cock. He watched in astonishment as
the boy slipped off of his erection, then swirled his tongue around the tip,
grabbing the base with his hand and moving it up and down slowly. Duo’s eyes
were half-lidded and he struggled just to breathe as he watched, his dick
filled with an intense pleasure at the rare attention it was getting. This twin
was completely focused on his task, his grip softer than his brother’s, his
tongue tracing every rounded shape and vein with fervor, lapping up the fluid
that was dripping from the slit like he was dying of dehydration.
    This boy sucked and stroked his cock with the same reverence that Sister
Helen gave during Mass, just as passionate as any of her prayers to God. Was
that a weird analogy? At the very least, it was probably blasphemous, but apt.
He really was handsome… he might be molesting Duo right now, but his dark eyes
were half lidded like Duo’s were and his face had a faint blush on it, but Duo
knew it wasn’t from embarrassment. It was wrong, but these two brothers were
attractive, even if they were cruel. Seeing how intense he was as he gave him a
blow job, Duo felt a strange warmth fill him. He just couldn’t believe that
anyone would touch him… caress him, with their tongue no less, with such focus
and worship. It made him feel strange… good, but strange.
    His breath quickened as the blue eyed boy took him into his mouth again,
sliding down on him slowly. It felt like he was melting from the tip of his
cock downwards and, though Duo didn’t realize it, he automatically spread his
legs wide, his toes curling a little bit. Quatre watched all of this with
amusement. Playing a voyeur was just as rewarding as being a part of the action
and seeing the chestnut haired boy flush bright red and moan so prettily was
definitely entertaining. And the way he had protested, only to spread his legs
like a slut when Heero had gone down on him… fuck, that was hot.
    Heero noticed that the boy had opened his thighs for him, too, and looked
up at him. Duo’s breath froze in his throat as those wolfish eyes looked up at
him, soft lips still wrapped around his member. Suddenly, those lips smiled at
him and Duo felt his heart flutter a little. It wasn’t a cruel smile, like the
other boy, it wasn’t even teasing. It was soft and nearly kind. He was really
into this, for some reason…
    Duo’s left thigh twitched as the boy returned to his work, moving his mouth
up and down faster and faster, making Duo wetter with his saliva and the pre-
cum that was freely flowing from him. It was then that Duo realized that his
heart had stopped hurting. It had stopped racing so hard and violently, too. It
was still going fast, but it wasn’t trembling or weak. Something in this boy’s
smile had soothed him… but that was impossible.
    It was in that moment when Duo realized that there was something really,
really wrong with him, that his heart was easing when it should have been
failing him, that he orgasmed for the first time in his life. He cried out, his
entire body going as tense as a string on a violin, shuddering, and squeezed
his eyes shut. It ripped through him, this explosion of pure pleasure, leaving
him gasping and his pulse racing furiously, but not painfully. If he had been
able to, he would have curled up into a vulnerable ball. The red haze in his
mind turned into a blinding white light. Then, just as quickly as it had hit
him, it started to die down until Duo felt like he was filled with a pleasant
warmth. Staring up at the ceiling, he vaguely realized what had just happened.
    ‘I came…’ he thought in a confused daze, ‘I came, for the first time in my
life… from another guy sucking my cock… What is wrong with me? I’m… I’m not
gay… and this… this isn’t right…’
    But endorphins were rushing through his body and such thoughts seemed
faint, like he was forcing himself to think them, instead of them coming
naturally. Duo jerked back to reality, his indigo eyes widening as he felt the
brown haired boy swallow his cum down, then popped his wilting penis out of his
mouth, but instead of moving away from him, he wrapped his hand around him
again.
    “W-wait,” Duo started to protest, but that hand tightened around him and
pumped, slowly, three times and his words melted away into a soft moan.
    His penis was still sensitive from the orgasm and the shudders of pleasure
that went through him when the older boy started to stroke him again were so
intense, they were almost painful. Duo watched with the expression of a trapped
animal as his cock started to harden again, some seed still staining the slit.
This couldn’t be possible… he had ‘finished’, right? His body felt worn down,
but was still burning, still wanting more… how could that be possible? It just
happened… so easily, with one little touch… What was happening to him?
    At the same time that he was horrified at his body’s sick, perversion,
there was some part of him that was excited by his erection. It… no, he wanted
more attention, more of those soft caresses and worship. He wanted to have that
feeling of letting go, of surrender, followed by that intense climax. Would he
come like that again? Would it feel less, because he had already done it
already, or would it feel even better? He hated himself for that desire. He was
a pervert, just like the people that Sister Helen had warned him about, and in
wanting those rough hands on his body, he had let her down. If she ever found
out… that voice was right, he realized. Maybe he didn’t care about God judging
him so much as the woman who had been like a mother to him for the past nine
years.
    The blue eyed boy leaned down and finished cleaning him, swiping his tongue
against the slit and tasting his semen again. It was strange… in one moment,
Duo felt depressed, ready to cry imagining what Sister’s view of him would be
after this, but that careful tongue drove it far away. He should be screaming
rape, he realized, at the very top of his lungs, but he was just sitting here
on the water drenched floor, letting these boys do whatever they liked to him.
He couldn’t figure out why.
    He was still scared, but also somewhat excited, wondering if they would
just suck on him until he went insane, or if there was more. With that tongue
scraping over his sensitive flesh, it was too hard to think. To hard to wonder
if he should be fighting or if it was just easier to surrender. It felt too
good and he was losing his reasons for fighting back. It wasn’t like he could
win, he told himself, and maybe that was just an excuse, but it was the only
one he could think of. He didn’t dare give credence to the thought that it was
because he enjoyed it.
    Heero licked the long haired boy’s long cock all over, every inch of it,
until he was sure that he had cleaned off every drop of cum, all the while
continuing to stroke the base, loving the little sounds the freshman was
making. Obviously, no one had sucked his cock before. Quatre had probably
realized that, too, and would want to take the boy’s other virginity, which was
fine. Fair was fair and they shared practically everything. Besides, this kid
was just too adorable. Their other conquests, even Trowa, hadn’t been like
this. This boy was still fighting them with his words and reluctance, but he
was so sensitive to everything they were doing to him.
    Hell, his cock had reawakened within seconds and Heero couldn’t wait to see
what he would be like when he finally fully surrendered to them. At least his
body was willing, his mind just had to keep up. And he was so pretty tied up
and wanting like this, panting, his face flushed… Heero was already imagining
the different ways he could restrain him later on. Quatre finally rejoined his
brother and they shared an indulgent smile. Quatre kept stroking the trapped
boy as his brother moved closer until he was straddling the violet eyed boy’s
right leg. Duo paled as he felt silken shorts pressed against his stomach and
through them, a large erection.
    “Tell me, Bunny,” Quatre said, inches away from Duo’s neck, which made the
pale boy tremble, “How often do you masturbate?”
    Quatre pulled away to see Duo’s reaction, which was shocked and horrified.
Duo was immediately embarrassed and affronted by the question. Just because
they had molested him, it didn’t mean that they had the right to ask a personal
question like that. He looked away from the boy.
    “I’m not going to answer that!” he exclaimed.
    Quatre reached under his brother’s hand to grab both of Duo’s balls in a
tight grip. Duo cried out at the light pain. Then, Quatre, still keeping a
tight grip, dug his fingers into the sensitive flesh and massaged them deeply,
rolling them in his palm. Duo tossed his head back and panted loudly, his eyes
half lidded. Between the one twin stroking his cock with a quickening pace and
now the other rubbing and caressing his balls, his lower body was in heaven.
Even the harshness of the grip on his testicles felt good. His cock twitched
and started to drool pre-cum, desperate for more stimulation.
    “I suppose I should explain something,” Quatre said, but his tone wasn’t
threatening, “My brother and I own you, so when we ask you a question, you’re
required to answer it. Understand?”
    Duo nodded automatically, barely realizing he was doing it.
    “Good boy,” Quatre smiled.
    He dug his thumb into the fragile skin between his anus and his sack,
moving the digit back and forth in a soothing motion as a reward for Duo’s
agreement.
    “Ah!” Duo groaned at the strange, but intimate feeling.
    His heart raced every time that finger got closer to his ass, but he wasn’t
sure why, it just felt kind of weird, but agonizing.
    “Now, how often do you masturbate?” Quatre repeated.
    “I… “ Duo panted through parted lips, “I’ve never done… something like that
before…”
    Quatre raised an eyebrow at his answer. If any of their other prey had said
that, he would have pulled them over his knee and spanked them for lying. After
all, what teenaged boy hadn’t touched himself, at least once? But this one
sounded so embarrassed by his admission, and considering how shy he was, Quatre
didn’t think he was lying. He nuzzled the crook of Duo’s neck and shoulder.
    “Poor boy,” he cooed.
    Heero should his head in astonishment. This kid was seriously repressed if
he had never masturbated, even just out of curiosity. But, that explained to
him why he was so sensitive. It also filled Heero with a prideful arrogance,
realizing that he had probably just claimed the boy’s first orgasm. He stroked
the pale boy’s cock faster and harder, bolstered by that realization. They had
to make up for years of chastity, then. Heero grinned as the boy’s legs widened
a little bit, signaling to him that he was about to come again. Duo thrust his
hips forward, feeling overwhelmed the attack on his genitals, but Quatre shoved
his knee into Duo’s hip, keeping him pinned.
    “Please… please stop… I don’t want this…” Duo panted, feeling his climax
approaching and suddenly feeling very vulnerable.
    Liar.
    He didn’t want to climax in front of these two again.
    Liar.
    It didn’t feel good, it just made him feel exposed. Was this their game,
making him feel miserable and pathetic? So, he hadn’t ever masturbated before,
did that really make him a freak? They were the freaks, molesting him like
this! This was wrong, just because it made his body feel good didn’t make it ok
to do this to him! He wanted them to stop…
    Stop lying to yourself!
    His orgasm ripped through him again, making that white light fill him for a
second time and, just like last time, those bad thoughts fled in the face of
the pure pleasure. He didn’t care. He didn’t care about right or wrong or being
dirty or them thinking he was a freak. It felt too good, too wonderful. They
could do whatever they wanted so long as they kept letting him feel this…
    Heero watched Duo’s face intently as he came all over Heero’s hand and his
own stomach. His expression was so beatific when he climaxed, it didn’t screw
up, but relaxed. It was as though the boy looked relieved, his eyes glazed and
his skin blushing so prettily. It was addicting, watching the boy in his
pleasure and Heero wanted to see it again and again.
    Duo peered down at Heero and watched in shock as the boy licked his cum
drenched hand clean. How could he do that, just taste it like it was sweet
cream instead of his semen? Did it taste good? Suddenly, Duo wanted to taste
Heero’s cum and he struggled to rid himself of the thought. He had cum, again,
and it had been just as incredible as the last time, Duo thought in a daze.
Quatre let go of Duo’s balls and watched his brother clean himself off with his
tongue.
    Heero was always so intense with their prey, but this time was different.
He was being slow and gentle, but so absorbed in the younger boy, in a way that
Quatre had never seen before. He looked at the pale boy with a clinical eye. He
looked tired, but happy for a moment before reality flooded back. Quatre
wondered how many times they would have to fuck him before he surrendered to
the realization that he was made for this. This wasn’t just about the sex, this
was an educational experience for the kid and Quatre suddenly felt a rush of
excitement, wondering how the boy would react to each new lesson. He eyed the
cum that had splashed on the boy’s stomach and grinned. Quatre found the bottle
of shampoo that their prey had been using earlier and poured a large amount in
his hand and handed it to his brother so he could do the same. With his free
hand, Quatre tilted the shower head so the water wasn’t hitting the freshman
anymore. He knelt down again and dripped the shampoo onto Duo’s stomach where
the cum was and Heero did the same to Duo’s limp member. Duo struggled to move
away, the soap cold and felt strangely erotic on his cock.
    “Stay still, you’re filthy,” Quatre teased, “It looks like we’re going to
have clean you off before we continue.”
    ‘Continue?’ Duo wondered dully, his brain still fuzzy from the rush of
climax.
    What else could they possibly want to do with him? Just as he was thinking
that, their hands were on him, rubbing the soap over his skin. They were
everywhere, over his shoulders, chest, and stomach, trailing over his spine and
over his legs and thighs. He couldn’t keep track of the multitude of fingers
and rough palms touching him everywhere. When the twin that had jerked him off
started to clean his feet, strong fingers sliding between his toes in a way
that was bizarrely intimate, Duo felt like he was losing it. Fingers stopped
just washing him and started to massage him. He felt the other twin work on his
nipples again and he started to moan with it.
    Then, those same fingers trailed down to his buttocks, squeezing and
massaging one of them. Their bodies pressed against him as they cleaned every
inch of his body. He felt surrounded, only as though they were embracing him
and he was stuck between feeling shy about the inadequateness of his body and
feeling comforted by how gentle, but sensual they were being with him.
Shouldn’t they be rough, just taking from him what they wanted? But so far,
they had only been making him feel good. He felt sheltered. Inexplicably and
unwanted, a memory wormed out of his self-conscious.
    He didn’t remember how old he had been, it had been too long ago, the
memory too old to really member too many specific details. His father had hurt
him again. No, it was more than that. Usually, his father would hit him for
doing something wrong. This time, he had just been mad. Duo had been working on
a coloring book, lying on the floor in the bathroom as his mother washed the
windows in her bedroom. His father had come storming in, flustered about
something he and Duo’s mother had been arguing about. He had been drunk, even
way back then, Duo had been able to recognize the smell on his breath. He had
grabbed Duo by the wrist and flung him into the mirror.
    More than anything, Duo remembered the sound of shattering glass and the
feeling of the shards burying themselves through his shirt and into his back.
He remembered screaming and falling to the floor, thankfully on his stomach and
not his wounded back. His father had stormed out as instantly as he had stormed
in, his rage appeased by Duo’s cry of pain. He had learned later that his
father had left the house, had taken the car, and had gone who knew where, so
when his mother came running in, sobbing at the sight of shards of glass
sticking out of her child’s back, she couldn’t have taken him to the hospital.
They couldn’t have afforded an ambulance visit, either, and Duo’s wounds hadn’t
been so severe that it would have warranted that.
    It had hurt more than when his dad hit him and all his mom had been able to
do was pull out the shards, disinfect them, and bandage them as best as she
could. The glass shards had been small enough that they hadn’t left any scars,
but he had bled a lot and any movement hurt. He had cried through it all, but
the memory wasn’t entirely horrible. His mother had put him to bed after
cleaning him up and had lied down with him, wrapping her arms around him
tightly, as though she thought she could protect him against the world. He
remembered, quite vividly, the feeling of her larger, but soft body surrounding
him, sheltering him, and the sound of her voice singing him to sleep.
    He remembered feeling safe when he really shouldn’t have. If his father had
come back for him, his mother wouldn’t have been able to do much to save him.
He knew that know, but the thought had never occurred to him when he had been a
child. The twin wearing the soaked jeans put his hand on Duo’s chest, massaging
him a little. Soap slid down his stomach and back, pooling underneath his ass
and dripping down the crack there. The hands were large and gentle and, for
some reason that he couldn’t understand, they reminded him of that feeling of
safety that his mother had given him. They felt familiar, almost. And that
feeling of being safe and loved was so welcome and unusual to him that it was
hard to think that it was wrong, comparing a boy that was attacking him to his
mother.
    Once the chestnut haired boy was completely slick with soap and his skin
was clean of sweat and cum, Quatre pushed him up against the tiled wall,
enjoying the wide eyed look their prey was giving him. He grabbed Duo’s right
thigh and pushed his leg up until he could see every inch of him. His puckered
entrance was pink and tight. It twitched as Quatre stared intently at it, as
though it knew it was being studied. The blush on Duo’s face intensified by the
twin’s intense stare. Quatre licked his lips. Oh, he was definitely calling
dibs here. The hole was slick from the shampoo, but it wasn’t enough. Quatre
slid two fingers beneath his balls, slipping them up until they were pressed
against the delicate hole. Duo, feeling that pressure, thrashed against Quatre.
    “Don’t touch me there!” he nearly screamed.
    They didn’t just want to bully him or molest him, he realized sickly, they
were going to full out rape him. He didn’t know a whole lot about gay sex, but
he knew enough to know why this boy was touching his ass. How could anyone let
a man put their… their cock up their ass?! It had to hurt like hell and it
couldn’t feel good…
    “Oh, but I have to,” Quatre purred, “And I think it wants to be touched…”
    Duo shook his head. He wasn’t a girl. It wasn’t in his nature to be
penetrated, right? That was what the Bible said, anyway. His fear made his
heart hurt again. Sister Helen’s lectures about sodomy and gay men being evil
filled his mind.
    “Men can’t have sex with each other!” he yelled in protest.
    ‘I thought we already went through this,’ that hateful voice returned,
sounding cheery, ‘Being gay isn’t evil just because Sister Helen says it is,
remember? Or, are you just afraid that it might feel good?’
    No! No, he wasn’t afraid of that at all! This was wrong! He was a boy, he
couldn’t procreate and there was no reason for it to feel good! Maybe gay
people weren’t evil, but this couldn’t be right, it couldn’t be pleasurable!
Even if that light pressure did feel sort of good, a guy… fucking him couldn’t
be anything but painful! Quatre grinned down at him, rubbing his fingers back
and forth over Duo’s hole.
    “Sweetie,” he smirked, “You are so wrong.”
    Duo thrashed again, pulling wildly at the rope binding him, but it held and
Heero quickly pinned the boy against the wall. Heero slipped his finger to
where Quatre’s was and continued the rubbing motion with his finger until it
was coated in soap. Duo’s violet eyes widened and he gasped out wordlessly as
he felt that finger slide inside him. It was strange, beyond anything that the
twins had done to him so far. There was something inside of him… something that
definitely didn’t belong there, but it didn’t hurt. It felt weird, his anal
muscles parting just a little bit, but there was no pain. Actually… it didn’t
feel all that bad, he just wasn’t used to it… His eyes widened even more as he
felt his cock respond to the intrusion, growing harder by the second. There had
to be a limit to this… to his arousal and to finding out that he didn’t dislike
the assaults these two were forcing on him.
    Heero slid his finger out of Duo slowly, only to fill him again, repeating
this motion several times. Duo’s eyes watered at the strange feeling of it.
This shouldn’t feel good. There was absolutely no reason why he should be
enjoying having a guy’s finger up his ass, but it was making him hard and
aching for more. As Heero shifted forward, Duo’s leg bent over his shoulder.
From under his bare leg, Duo could feel the strong muscles in that shoulder and
for some reason, it interested him. The boy wasn’t all that much older than Duo
was, but he seemed so sure of himself. His masculine strength comforted Duo.
The older teenager just exuded confidence and control. He was the sort of boy
that no adult could dominate.
    He was bigger than Duo was, stronger, and that should have scared Duo, but
his surety and gentle touch made Duo feel… well, safe and soothed. This person
could hurt him, like his father had hurt him. If he was so eager to fuck him,
just for that alone, he could rip up his insides, but the finger inside of him
was stroking and stretching instead of injuring. Duo remembered his tongue on
his cock, how much care he had put into making Duo climax. It was comforting,
realizing that this person who was raping him wasn’t actually trying to hurt
him. It was wrong, what he was doing, taking something that Duo hadn’t given
freely, but it could be so much worse, right? Feeling that strength, coupled
with the care that the boy was taking made Duo feel even more aroused. He was
going to hell, he was sure, but Duo realized that he didn’t hate this person
nearly as much as he should.
    Heero almost groaned as his finger slipped inside the pale boy. His inner
muscles felt soft, like silk, and were wet from the soap. He was insanely
tight, telling Heero even better than the boy’s personality that he was a
virgin. His own cock felt harder as he thought about what it would be like to
sink into that silken channel. It would wrap around his dick, so tight and hot…
His anal muscles were already clamped down on him and he knew that he would
have to work them extra well, especially since the kid had never had anything
up here, not even a finger. If they weren’t careful, they could hurt him, and
not in a fun way, either. He pulled his finger out, lathered it with more soap,
and sunk it in again, hearing the long haired boy moan loudly as he did so. He
nuzzled his nose against his shoulder.
    “You really are a virgin, huh?” Heero teased, “This is your lucky day,
then.”
    Just the thought of this sweet ass never being pummeled unless they had
come along was painful to him, especially since the boy had been so responsive
so far. There was nothing sadder than a sexy boy living the life of a hermit,
just sitting around, waiting for some pretty girl, when they should be
spreading their legs for the right guy, not some dumb chick. Duo blushed at
Heero’s words, feeling incredibly embarrassed, but not because his finger was
inside of him.
    ‘What if he’s unsatisfied with me?’ the stray thought came, ‘I’m a virgin,
I have the sexual experience of a five year old… What could a guy like him
possibly find sexually appealing about a guy like me? Even if he has sex with
me, he’s just going to find me boring, my body bland and distasteful.’
    His heart twisted in his chest, an intense pain filling him and dizziness
overwhelming him at the thought of being unsatisfactory to these twins. It was
like before, standing up in class and worrying about being a disappointment.
But these two weren’t his family, weren’t the people he loved, and yet, he felt
a deep anxiety about displeasing them, about not being good enough. He wanted
them to look at him and find him attractive, he wanted to turn him on like they
had turned him on. Even if that was wrong, that he really was like a child to
them made him feel panicked. His heart hurt like it had before in class.
    It was ridiculous, he thought to himself. Here he was, about to be raped,
and the thing that was going to cause him to have heart failure wasn’t the
assault but not being good enough for his rapists. There was something
seriously wrong with him. Why should he care? He should want to dissatisfy
them, it would serve them right for attacking him just because he was small and
weak! That was all this was, a pair of wolves going after a defenseless baby
rabbit! They weren’t attracted to him, he was just a convenient lay. That
thought filled him with a sadness that hurt his heart in a completely different
way. He felt like he was going to cry.
    Duo was torn from his depressing thoughts as he felt the boy in the jeans
slide another finger into him. His asshole was stretched further and he gritted
his teeth at the feeling of it. Again, it didn’t hurt like he had assumed it
would, and the way the fingers inside of him were swirling around, rubbing
against the fragile ring of muscles at the opening was nice. It kind of felt
like it had when the same boy had swirled his tongue around the head of his
cock. He had had no idea that the same kind of motion in your ass could feel
good!
    Heero dug his two fingers in further, thrusting them in and out. He could
feel the boy’s muscles starting to loosen up, which meant that the kid was
relaxing enough, emotionally, for what they wanted to do to him. He nodded to
his brother, who stood up and walked back to the lockers, though Duo didn’t
notice him leaving. His entire attention was on the boy who was moving his
fingers in and out of him. He groaned in annoyance when he felt the boy pull
his fingers out. It had just started to feel really good, the caresses
awakening nerve endings that had never actually been used like this. There was
still a small part of his mind that was protesting all of this, screaming that
this was perverted and filthy, but Duo’s body was starting to affect his mind,
begging him to just relax so it could feel more pleasure.
    Heero smirked as he watched the pale boy's expression. He was finally
starting to get into it. He was still fighting what he was feeling, but Heero
knew that they now had the upper hand. Liking a blow job was one thing, but not
that all gay men enjoyed anal play, yet this kid looked just as aroused by his
fingers up his ass as his tongue on his cock. Heero eyed the handle of the jump
rope that was pooled on the floor. It was already wet with water and soap, but
as he picked it up, he lathered it further, then slowly and gently pressed it
to the boy's loosening entrance. It slid in just an inch, then the muscles
there tightened up, not wanting it inside. The handle was only as thick as two
and a half of Heero's fingers, but it was made of hard wood, not soft, flexible
flesh and didn't want to slip in like his fingers had. He watched as Duo's eyes
widened again and stared at him in shock.
    It felt weirder than just the fingers going inside of him. The handle
spread his hole apart and he clenched around it. It created a gentle ache in
him. Only a little part of it was in him, but he immediately started to fight
against the strangeness of it. It felt violating and yet his cock was throbbing
at the feeling. He couldn't understand it. Then, the boy started to twist it
inside of him, his muscles loosening up enough for him to slide the entirety of
it inside of him. Duo shuddered at the feeling of something hard and unyielding
sliding into a very intimate part of his body.
    “Please take it out,” he begged, on the verge of tears, “It doesn't feel
right, please.”
    His back arched and his words got caught in his throat as the boy slid the
handle out, only to thrust it back in. Duo's muscles spasmed around it, not
used to having this kind of intrusion. Heero continued to fuck him with the
handle, watching with interest as the muscles stretched and loosened around it.

    “Ssh,” he tried to soothe as he moved it in and out, in and out, slowly and
carefully.
    He pressed his lips to Duo's pale neck, kissing him lightly, then moved up
his neck, kissing as he went, until he reached Duo's ear, then nipped the lobe,
pulling it into his mouth and sucking on it. Feeling the gentle kisses, Duo
started to relax. He didn't mind this part at all. This boy could kiss him as
many times as he wanted... he just wished that his ass didn't feel so... so hot
and intense. As he started to relax, the ache settled, too, and all Duo could
understand was how good the handle felt inside of him. For all of its
strangeness, it still didn't actually hurt. As the older boy moved it back and
forth inside of him, it rubbed his inner walls, making a fire inside of his
gut. He vaguely realized that he had stopped protesting and had started to
moan. His balls felt tight and his cock was dripping again.
    The handle started to move faster and faster inside of him and Duo had
stopped caring about how hard it was or that he shouldn't be enjoying this. He
was going to come again, he realized, feeling it in his balls, how tight and
warm everything was. Was there a limit to this, or would he continue to get
hard and climax forever? Would that really be such a bad thing? When he came,
he didn't think. All he could feel were those hands on him, his seed shooting
out of him and that incredible intensity. With every thrust of the length of
wood, Duo could feel himself getting closer and closer... he was going to come
and it was going to feel so good... he would feel tired afterwards and he knew
he was wearing himself thin, but he didn't care. He wanted to feel that release
again...
    Something tightened around his drenched, throbbing cock and his orgasm was
suddenly cut off. Duo opened his eyes and stared down, numbly, at himself. The
boy had wrapped the slack of the jump rope around his balls and the base of his
cock. It was tight, almost painful, and Duo squirmed, wanting it off of him. He
looked at the blue eyed boy in question, not understand what he was doing.
    “That will keep you from coming. I want you to be awake when I fuck you,”
Heero said with an amused grin.
    Duo felt betrayed. These brothers had shown him how good his body could
feel, and now they were taking that away? And wouldn't not climaxing hurt?
Heero touched his cheek lightly.
    “Don't worry, we aren't evil. You'll come on our terms, eventually, and
when you do, I promise, it'll feel amazing,” he vowed.
    Duo wasn't sure why, but he trusted his promise. He shouldn't. He didn't
even know this boy's name, but he nodded. Quatre returned from the lockers,
holding a bottle of lube in one hand and a wooden instrument in the other.
Shampoo was all well and good, but he and Heero weren't small and considering
that this kid was a virgin, lube was a safe bet, unless they wanted to hurt
him. The baton was one that the gymnastics team often used. It was shaped
almost like a miniature baseball bat with a thin handle, while the other end
was fat and rounded. It was twice as big as the jump rope's handle, but still
smaller than they were. It would help stretch him further. Quatre felt a thrill
of excitement as he approached their prey, who looking at the baton like it was
something straight from hell.
    “You're... you're not going to put that in me, right?” Duo asked in
disbelief.
    To him, even compared to the handle that was inside of him, the baton
looked huge, but Quatre laughed at his nervousness.
    “I'm bigger,” Quatre boasted with a cruel smirk that made Duo go pale.
    Quatre switched places with Heero and yanked the handle out of Duo, who
groaned even as he watched the baton with fear. There was no way they could be
serious, Duo decided. There was no way something like that could go inside of
him!
    “Please don't,” he pleaded.
    “Hush,” Quatre ordered and poured a liberal amount of lube on the baton.
    He gave a sharp tug on the rope restraining Duo's genitals, distracting the
smaller boy as the rope pulled and tightened around his balls, tugging them
upward. Duo made a strange, keening whine at the feeling, which wasn’t entirely
unpleasant. Quatre pressed the fat head of the baton against  the pale boy’s
hole, keeping one hand on his flat stomach to keep him from moving around too
much. His entrance was loose from Heero’s playing, but he still needed to use a
little bit of force to get the hard, bowling pin shaped instrument to slip
inside of him. He gave another tug of the rope at the same time that the baton
started to slide inside. Every muscle in Duo’s legs tightened in protest as the
large thing moved inside of him, inch by inch.
    “Nnng,” Duo moaned in discomfort.
    He felt a deep shock as he felt the thick thing enter him, much more easily
than he had thought it would. There was a dull ache in his ass as it moved past
the first, tight ring of muscle, but then it rubbed against his inner walls and
a wave of pleasure hit him. Quatre poured more lube on the part of the baton
that was sticking out of Duo and gave one more push, the baton sliding in the
rest of the way easily.
    “Ah!” Duo cried out as his anal muscles were stretched wide apart.
    Despite himself, his legs spread apart widely and he continued to groan a
little at the strange feeling of his ass being filled with something long and
thick. It should hurt, every logical thought told him. Something this big
should be hurting him, but it just ached a little. Quatre watched in
fascination as their prey’s ass clenched down on the wooden instrument. He
licked his lips. It looked amazingly erotic, the lube dripping out a little
bit, and best of all, the boy was moaning like a bitch in heat, his eyes half
lidded, instead of crying with pain or protesting the intrusion. The lube had
helped a lot, making it easy for Quatre to move the baton in and out of him,
slowly to make sure that he wasn’t hurting the pale boy. His cock was bright
red and hard as a rock, despite being penetrated by something big and having
orgasmed twice already.
    Duo’s back arched as he felt the twin move the baton in and out of him. He
hated the moans that escaped him, but he couldn’t control it. The fire inside
of him was raging and, if the boy’s hand hadn’t been on his stomach, he would
have been thrusting back onto the instrument, his body desperate for more
stimulation.
    ‘This is perversion,’ the voice that sounded like Sister Helen protested,
‘You aren’t even enjoying the touch of a living person. You’re moaning like a
whore over an inanimate object and being treated like some tramp!’
    Duo knew that he should care about what that voice had to say, that he
should find some reason why this was wrong or why he wasn’t a whore, but his
body was singing with pleasure and he felt like he was going insane. When
Quatre pulled the baton all the way out, only to slam it back in, Duo thought
he saw stars. Was this sex, this wonderful, overwhelming feeling, like nothing
in the world mattered but his nerve endings? No anxiety, no nightmares, no
second guessing every, single one of his actions? Was this really so terrible?
For once in his life, he wasn’t worried about his heart or his past. He
couldn’t do a thing, just hang here and feel every little jolt, every little
joy. What was so horrible about this that God saw it as a mortal sin? He saw
the boy in the jeans watching him and at any other moment, he would have felt
shame and embarrassment, would have wondered if he was thinking ill of him, but
in that moment for some reason, he felt a thrill realizing that he was watching
his brother doing this to him. And he looked far from disgusted. Heero smirked
at him.
    “So horny, just from being fucked by a piece of wood,” he teased the boy,
enjoying the deep blush on his face from his words.
    The wood continued to slip in and out of him at a brutal pace. Duo felt the
pleasure fill him, coiling around his cock and nesting in his balls, making his
entire body pound with desire. What did he want? To come again? No, it was more
than that. He wanted something… something… was it to be fucked by a man, to
want the thing that filled him to be hot and alive? Was that what this feeling
was? The dull ache of penetration was long gone. His toes dug into the tiled
floor for some kind of leverage, but there was none. As the minutes passed,
just with the torture of being fucked by the baton over and over and over, Duo
was making strange, small little noises, somewhere between happiness and
begging. His fingers clenched around the rope, but he didn’t try to get free
anymore. There was something about the way that he was tied up that was
pleasant right now, and Duo’s mind was too messed up to even think about any of
it. When the baton was pulled out, Duo felt an ache in his gut, feeling oddly
empty inside.
    Quatre’s hands felt hot on Duo’s skin as he pulled him away from the wall
enough for Heero to sit there and he rearranged Duo so he was sitting in
Heero’s lap. Heero unzipped his jeans, taking out his cock. Duo blushed even
hotter as he felt the hard organ press against his naked back. It felt
strangely good, lying back on that strong chest, the legs that were pressed
against his own felt muscled, even through the jeans. There was a slit on the
front of Quatre’s gym shorts, like the slit on a pair of boxers, and he took
his dick out as well, sighing in relief as his cock was finally let loose from
the prison of his clothes.
    Duo realized that neither one of them were wearing any underwear. His eyes
went round as he took in the sight of Quatre’s hard dick. He had been right, it
was bigger than the baton by a least an inch and it was long, too. It was
longer than Duo’s was and certainly longer than the baton. It looked as red and
aching as Duo’s own erection, the end dripping. The other brother’s cock felt
at least that big, maybe bigger. Seeing how big the blonde’s was, he had no
idea if the brunette‘s was really as thick as it felt, but there was some part
of himself that got excited by that idea.
    “You want first or second?” Quatre asked as he wrapped his hand around his
own cock, stroking it slowly, happy to finally be able to touch the aching
erection.
    Heero arched a dark brown eyebrow. His brother wasn’t usually so
accommodating. They had had to play rock, papers, scissors to decide who would
take Wufei first, who had been a virgin at a time. When Heero had won (Quatre
had always used scissors from when they were little kids), Quatre had been
sullen about it for weeks. Now, Quatre had the right to take this one’s
virginity, and he was offering Heero the chance. Weird. Heero smirked from over
their captor’s shoulder, who was getting the impression that he was a cut
choice of meat being bargained over.
    “Second,” Heero said, pressing his lips to the boy’s soapy, but still
slightly salty skin of his left shoulder blade, “Unlike you, I enjoy sloppy
seconds,” he nipped the skin he had just kissed, the shorter boy making a small
noise at the light feeling of teeth, “He’ll be wet, loose, and…” Heero pinched
Duo’s nipple, making him moan softly, “unbelievably horny. Best of all,” he
grinned arrogantly at his brother, “I’ll be responsible for his last orgasm.”
    Quatre mock pouted at him.
    “I don’t know if you’re being sacrificing or selfish,” he whined.
    Quatre quickly dropped the act, smirking to himself at the thought of being
the first to stuff his cock into that perfect, milky white ass. His dick
throbbed with the mere mental image of it. He grabbed Duo’s legs and pushed
them back. Heero hooked his hands around Duo’s thighs, keeping his legs up, his
ass exposed, and his thighs wide apart. Duo felt completely exposed as his legs
were pushed to his stomach and his ass was tilted upwards a little, his back
against the other boy’s stomach and groin. Duo realized that the blonde boy
could see every inch of him in this vulnerable position and he should feel
ashamed about that, but his heart rate only sped up and he didn’t feel the
overwhelming urge to hide himself. He couldn’t anyway.
    Quatre admired the chestnut patch of pubic hair that framed his long
erection. It was thin and sparse, like spun silk instead of thick and coarse.
The hair was only on that area above his genitals, his cock and balls
themselves were hairless. His underarms were only smooth, pale skin, too. Maybe
puberty hadn’t hit very hard, yet, or this boy was one of the rare ones that
would never grow a lot of hair down here. Quatre hoped so. It was cute. And
there was more silken, white skin to touch.
    He ran his fingers through the pubic hair, the shimmering gold streaks in
it fascinating him. It was as attractive and soft as the hair on the boy’s
head, more like fur than the way pubic hair usually felt. He buried his nose in
it, the area smelling thickly of soap and just slightly of musk, Duo’s cock
pressing against his cheek. This time, Duo was embarrassed. He had always hated
the hair down there, how it made him feel like a little kid who was almost
hairless, so to have a guy admire it like that was weird to him.
    Quatre suddenly grabbed both his butt cheeks, squeezing them harshly, as
hard as he could, leaving red marks in the shapes of his fingers, though he was
careful not to make that fair skin bruise. He was a sadist, not an asshole. As
he squeezed those deliciously soft, pliant globes, he spread them apart
harshly. The boy’s hole was slightly stretched, but still looked tight and
pretty, a nice pink color. Duo moaned at how rough the boy was being with him,
then felt shocked at his excitement. Why did he like this? He could understand
the stroking and his love for how gentle the other brother had been with him,
but why this? Why this almost violence?
    Quatre heard the moan, too, and paused. He shared an astonished look with
his brother. Was the boy moaning because he had grabbed his ass, or, was it
possible that he liked it when they were rough? He almost licked his lips in
anticipation, feeling as though he might drool with that possibility. After
awhile, they had managed to teach Zechs to like being spanked. Trowa liked
pretty much anything they had done to him, but mostly because of his feelings
for Quatre. Wufei had never really enjoyed the rough stuff. If this boy
actually liked pain all on his own… that would be like the holy grail for
Quatre. Experimentally, he spanked the boy’s right butt cheek, hard, relishing
in the sound and the feeling of striking the soft skin just enough to cause a
burning pain, the white flesh turning a pleasing red. His fingers closed around
the round globe and he squeezed it again, feeling the heated skin.
    Duo gave out a strangled cry at the blow, but it was in pleasure instead of
pain. He felt the heat of it radiate from his buttock to his spine, leaving
little pinpricks of sensation. He didn’t know what shocked him more, that the
pale eyed boy had struck him there or that it felt… kind of good. The pain was
like blossoming warmth, familiar and strange at the same time. Comforting and
intense. The sensation made him horny, his cock aching from the sensation.
    “Who would have thought it? That a meek little boy like you is a pain
slut!” Quatre exclaimed, half teasing and half in joy.
    Duo’s fear of him, his submission forgotten as doubt, shame, and anger
filled him.
    “I’m not!” he snapped.
    He didn’t really get what a pain slut was, but he could put two and two
together. That, and it just sounded insulting. He didn’t like pain! He
couldn’t! After everything his father had done to him, the punches, kicks, and
slaps, breaking his arms and his leg, his ribs, his heart… ‘Cardiomyopathy’ his
ass. He hadn’t been born with a bad heart. His father had just broken it so
much, like a bone that had never set correctly, it had never really healed. His
suicide had seen to that. There was no way that he could like getting hit, even
if it wasn’t like how his father had hit! He wasn’t that sick, that twisted.
His mother hadn’t died trying to protect him from his father’s abuse just for
him to enjoy someone else’s!
    His heart strained to beat, starting to slow again. He tried to deny it,
but he couldn’t. He felt tears brimming in his eyes. He had liked it. His
desire, which, despite his denial and anger at himself, hadn’t died, told him
that. He had liked the blow, had liked the rough treatment. Shame twisted
around his heart. He felt the other twin whose lap he was sitting on nuzzle
against the side of his face.
    “You’re getting more and more interesting by the minute,” he murmured.
    There was something in that soft voice, the gentleness and, could that
possibly be affection? There was something in that, that made the shame seem
far away. He felt the fingers that were still keeping his legs pinned to his
stomach stay in place, but the tips stroked his quivering skin, comforting him
like you would a skittish horse. The pain in his chest eased again. Duo wished
he could bottle whatever spell these two had put on him. Never in his life had
his heart made these leaps between panic and stability. Duo froze as he felt
the other boy shift forward and the fat head of his impressive erection pressed
against his asshole. His sexual desire flared to life in a raging fire. The
part of him that had reveled in feeling the baton inside of his body pleaded
silently for that cock to thrust into him, to allow him to see how wonderful
that would feel.
    ‘Stop, stop, stop! Stop him right now!’ that voice that sounded like Sister
Helen screamed at him.
    It was the same voice that always had something to say when he was in the
middle of an attack, when he was feeling ashamed, when he was doubting himself
and wishing that someone would come along and just tell him what to do. He
hated that voice and when he hated it, he hated himself because it sounded so
much like his motherly nun. Hearing it yelling at him about something that made
his penis excited between his legs made him angrier for some reason. He
snapped.
    ‘Shut up!’ he screamed back at the voice childishly, not really realizing
what he was doing or thinking, just acting on his feelings, ‘Can’t you let me
be happy for once in my life?!’
    Quatre pressed further and gave out a low moan as his cock slipped inside
of their prey’s still lubed ass. He closed his eyes in bliss. Heero was going
to love this. Despite their attempts to loosen him up, he was deliciously
tight. It was like slipping into the purest, most expensive silk, moist from
the lube. Those inner muscles clenched him at the shock of his swift thrust,
stroking his cock better than any hand. He and Trowa had sex daily, but he
still felt overwhelmed about the feeling he got when he was fucking a new toy.
He couldn’t imagine how Heero would feel, since he hadn’t had sex like this
since the end of the school year last year.
    Duo made a sharp whimpering noise as he felt the boy’s thick, hot cock
enter him and tossed his head back against the other brother’s shoulder. His
toes curled up tightly, unable to move his legs apart or closed. He panted
harshly, feeling overwhelmed as the rod sunk deeply into him. The cock, wet
from pre-cum, felt completely different from the baton, made of cold, unfeeling
wood. The erection’s flesh was soft, but it was bigger and longer than the
baton had be, reaching farther inside of him, deeper than he had thought
possible. There was pain as it entered him, but he had stopped caring about
that at some point. This didn’t hurt, not like how he had always thought it
would. It felt wonderful. It was the strangest sensation possible, the little
hole below his balls stretched out by the cock of another man, but Duo wanted
to jerk his hips downwards, to feel more of it.
    Duo squirmed, rubbing against Heero who was enjoying how warm Duo’s body
felt on his lap. The younger boy was making interesting, strained sounds of
pleasure, his legs shaking in his grip. Heero stroked his hair with his cheek
and pressed his lips against his throat, wanting to feel his pulse, which Heero
knew would be racing. Hearing it would give him a feeling of power and wonder.
He pulled the boy’s legs up higher and tighter until his knees were brushing
against his nipples, making the boy’s cries grow louder. Heero used those knees
since he couldn’t fondle them while he was keeping the boy’s legs restrained.
He frowned as he couldn’t find Duo’s heart beat  and used his lips to search
for one of the veins straining in his neck. Even when he finally found it, it
took him several seconds to find any pulse at all. It was there, but it was
faint for some reason.
    That prickled Heero, reminding him of a memory from his childhood, of
playing games like this with his mother, pressing his fingers against his neck
to find his pulse. He remembered how his mother had told him that he and Quatre
were special, because their heart beats were always equal. He remembered
pressing his fingers to his mother’s wrist, trying to find her pulse, too. He
remembered feeling disappointed when he couldn’t find it. His mother had told
him to keep listening, very, very hard, because her heart was there, it was
just speaking softly. He had found out later that that was because of her
weakened heart condition. He discarded the memory as he felt the pale boy
pressing back against him as Quatre started to thrust into him.
    The cock thrust in and out of Duo’s ass violently, reminding him of a
rutting dog. It sent large jolts of pleasure running through him like
electrical currents. The intense pleasure mixed with the pain of violent sex,
making the pleasure feel even more incredible, all mixed up with sensations
that Duo would never be able to give a name to. Suddenly, the wonderful length
struck something inside of him and white light filled his vision. He was
vaguely aware of crying out, begging for something wordlessly with his moans
and cries. His whole body went tight as pleasure as bright as the light shot
through him. He knew, without any doubt, that if it weren’t for the rope
wrapped around him, he would have come hard.
    His hips gave a vain jerk and he groaned, his back arching. He cried out
again and again as the cock pistoned in and out of him, hitting that miraculous
spot each time, making Duo loose all sense of everything else but the feeling
of hard flesh moving inside of him. He wanted to come, so very badly. How could
you want something so badly when, hours before, you hadn’t even been aware that
it had existed? But he couldn’t… he was in Hell, he had to be in Hell…
    Quatre gritted his teeth and thrust inside of Duo harder and faster. His
channel was spasming around him and after several minutes of this pace, he knew
that he wasn’t going to last much longer. He cherished the expression on their
prey’s face, deep longing mixed with the agony of not being able to come
himself, his eyes staring out blankly, his skin a dark red from exertion. His
cock pushed against Quatre’s stomach as his weight pushed down him, rubbing
pre-cum on his shirt. Quatre’s knees were chaffing from his harsh movements
against the tiles, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was that expression,
knowing that he was driving the boy crazy, and his own pleasure of course. He
gave out a sharp noise as he finally stopped denying himself his release.
    Duo winced as he felt the blonde boy climax and hot cum filled his ass.
Because the other boy had his legs lifted up, the semen didn’t drip out of him,
but he could feel it sliding deeper inside. It wasn’t an entirely gross
sensation, but the cum was thick and made his stomach feel warm. He could feel
the cock inside of his twitching as it filled him, then started to soften. As
the boy pulled out of him, not a drop of seed escaped. Suddenly, his legs were
released and strong arms were wrapping around his stomach, making him sit
directly on the other boy’s lap, then he was filled with something hard and hot
again, but this time, though not as long as the blonde’s, thicker, spreading
him apart even further.
    “Agh!” Duo cried out, his thighs quaking like a baby deer and he squirmed
as that thick cock slid completely inside of him.
    He could feel the cum inside start to slip down, but the cock was so thick
that only a tiny bit dripped out of him, the rest trapped inside. After the
brutal fucking the other boy had put him through, his ass was almost numb and
he felt no pain as the blonde’s brother penetrated him. Now that his legs were
free, Duo could move, but felt as though his strength had left him. It was kind
of nice, actually. He had lived most of his life in fear, pain, and self-
disgust, and in all that time, he had never felt this good.
    His ass was stretched wide and his cock was starting to hurt, but he loved
it. He wanted this boy to fuck him like his brother had, long and hard, his
entire attention on him. Maybe that was it. That feeling of being attended to,
being cared for sexually was intoxicating for a person who had always lived in
the shadows and had thought of himself as insignificant. These two were
handsome and strong, but they were putting so much effort into him. In a matter
of minutes, they had taken all of his control and power away from him, but
along with that power had gone his anxiety. He didn’t have to do anything but
feel good and if they hurt him, it wasn’t his fault because he had no control
over the situation. It was both a turn on and a relief.
    When Heero started to move inside of him, Duo moaned louder than he had
before, losing all care about his voice carrying or trying to hide how good he
was feeling. He didn’t care. Maybe he would, later. Maybe he would hate
himself. Maybe he would disgust himself. But right now, he felt like a
different person, and that was just fine with him. This twin was different than
the other one, and not just because his cock was shorter and fatter. His
thrusts were slow and gentle. When he slid back into him, Duo could feel each
inch of his dick, and that was even more painful and agonizing than the other
brother’s harsh, animalistic mating. There was a fog covering his brain and he
felt like he was drugged as he thrust down to meet the wonderful length.
    Heero panted against Duo’s neck, tightening his hold around his stomach.
This was incredible. He was incredible. So tight and hot… he could feel his
brother’s seed sliding down his cock and the pale boy’s anal muscles
surrounding him like a warm vice. It had been too long since he had fucked
anyone like this and as much as he wanted to torture him, Heero found it hard
to not listen to what his body wanted to do. He slid his cock in and out of the
tight sheath, listening to Duo’s various moans and cries as the fire inside of
him grew and grew. Heero wondered what his cock looked like right now. It had
to have been almost an hour since they had first tied him up, maybe a half an
hour since he had tied the rope around his cock.
    Minutes passed with just Heero thrusting his cock up, then pulling back
out, as slowly as he could without driving himself mad. The boy was thrusting
back against him regularly now, completely lost in lust. With an almost cruel
grin, Heero pulled out against until only the very tip of his cock was inside,
then with brutal force, slammed it back in, aiming for the boy’s prostate.
    “Aaah, ahhh!” Duo nearly screamed, his body going tight at the sudden rush
of pleasure
    He tossed his head back, his back arching again, but this time almost to
the point that it hurt, his silky hair brushing Heero’s cheek. He felt large
hands caressing his flat stomach and every touch created a blinding heat. Heero
continued to play with him in this way, thrusting long and slow, then striking
that special spot inside of him, making him scream. He felt a little insane,
himself, his body begging him to just come, but the tightness and heat of the
little chestnut haired boy was addicting. He could fuck him forever, he
thought. But, he had made a promise to their new found prey that he would
release him, eventually. He met Quatre’s heated stare and he nodded to him.
    Heero reached down to Duo’s cock and untied the rope at the same time that
Quatre untied his from the knob. Duo gasped as he felt his genitals being
released from the tight grip. His arms fell down, too, but he didn’t pay them
any attention. That he was loose and could fight back if he wanted to didn’t
even occur to him. A second later, Heero’s cock struck his prostate again and
Duo came, his cum splattering on the tiled floor, only for the water to take it
to the drain, as though it had never happened. Duo’s eyes rolled back in his
head and he couldn’t even scream or moan at the explosive orgasm, stronger than
the others had been. Blackness prickled at his vision, exhaustion overwhelming
him and his entire body shaking as his nerves felt like they were exploding.
    Heero gasped as he felt the violet eyed boy’s inside tighten around him so
hard, it hurt, but a nice kind of hurt. He came seconds after Duo did, filling
him with a second load of cum, his hips jerking as he poured his seed and saw
the same white lights that Duo had. He bit down on Duo’s neck, stifling his
groans, but had enough sense left not to bite so deep that he would make him
bleed, just enough to mark him. He felt himself start to soften, but didn’t
care, continuing to thrust, his body wanting more, until his orgasm ebbed away.

    When Heero regained control over himself, he found Duo still in his tight
hold. Duo continued to pant, but his breaths were starting to become soft. His
tiredness overwhelmed him, making him forget where he was and who he was with.
It didn’t matter anymore. His heart was racing hard and fast, making his chest
hurt a little, but it wasn’t like a panic attack. It was more like his heart
hurt from overuse, which he supposed was just as bad, but he was used to it
failing after becoming anxious, and didn’t pay it much mind. Sleep swept over
him and the last thing Duo knew before he let it claim him was the feeling of
the boy in the jeans cradling his warm body to his chest. He snuggled against
it, liking the feeling of his masculine form sheltering him.
    “Wow,” Quatre said in amazement as Duo fell limp in his brother’s careful
grasp, “I think you made him black out.”
    Heero snorted at him. The second he had come back to himself, he had felt
the boy losing all strength. In that moment, instead of a deep pride for making
him faint with pleasure, he had felt worried that he might fall and hit his
head. He had gathered him up like a little child against him, slipping out of
him carefully. Beyond his exhaustion, the boy seemed fine, and Heero allowed
him to feel that pride. He felt his cum, mixed with his brother’s, drip out of
the long haired boy and onto his jeans, staining them. That was fine. He had
another change of clothes and it was kind of an erotic sensation.
    Quatre smiled warmly at Heero while his brother was too busy examining
their new toy to see him. In their entire lives, he had never seen his brother
this affectionate with another person, besides himself and their mother. Maybe
this was a good sign. Heero had been gentle with him, more so than he usually
was with their conquests, even taking in account that they had taken it easy
with this one because of his shyness and virginity.
    Heero slipped two fingers inside of Duo’s stretched anus, checking to see
if they had hurt him. By the time they had fucked the kid, they had both been
hard up and hadn’t been as careful as they could have been. Duo moaned in his
sleep, but didn’t wake up. A ton of cum poured out of him and onto Heero’s
hands, but it was pure white, not mixed with red or pink. Heero breathed in
relief and enjoyed the feeling of those warm, lax muscles around his fingers
before pulling out. The kid was going to be sore as hell when he woke up.
    “Um, Heero,” Quatre pointed downwards.
    Heero shifted Duo a little in his lap and looked down at his groin. In his
astonishment, the boy’s cock had risen, just a tiny bit. Not enough that it
required any attention, but still amazing given he had come three times in an
hour, maybe less.
    “Just from that?” Heero murmured in shock.
    Quatre grinned. Just getting hard from two fingers up his butt, while he
was asleep, no less… the little bunny was full of surprises.
    “Maybe our new slave is as insatiable as we are,” he said with a predatory
smirk.
    Heero shook his head, but was smiling. This boy was so different from the
others, even Trowa. He was completely innocent, barely getting what a blow job
was, but also intensely passionate, once he got into the mood of things. That
was the trick of it, getting past those barriers of his. Still, Heero felt
completely enamored by him, something that definitely didn’t come easily for
him. Every inch of him wanted to fuck him again, to hear those pretty little
moans, but knew that wasn’t a good idea. The first couple of times, they would
have to go slow, at least until the boy became willing.
    “So, what do you think?” Quatre asked as he approached them holding a
washcloth, ready to help Heero clean Duo up.
    Heero smiled at him.
    “He’s perfect.”


End Chapter 3


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