[ Rolling With The Punches ] - [ AIMEE ]

[Serphius de la Ravin]

Serphius didn't know if he could honestly say that it was good to be back. It was a mild relief to be finally out of the Hospital Wing and the hawk eyed watch of the nurses, even if he did still have to go in for daily checks. It was tiresome. It's was tiring too. Stamina was never his strong point, and even less so now that he was half drained, his chest full of two foot gashes.

Even though it was rather nice to be out and about, Serphius now felt terribly, terribly out of place. Invisible, almost like a ghost. The Common Room held no warmth for him, his Dormitory no familiarity. There had been no word from his classmates, or friends. Not Alexys, not Cove or Gaara, or even Ashlei. Perhaps they think I died that night, Sephy mused to himself as he reclined on the distasteful blue and grey striped sofa, the ever familiar half bottle of vodka in his hand. Bottles were becoming like another limb for him. The thought made him laugh, even though it was nothing funny. Laure, Asmodeus, drugs or drink - which one would get him first? They'd all had their potshots, but he was still there.

Still clinging on. Just. Barely.

Perhaps not so much physically anymore. The nurses had went out of their way to fatten him up, pump him full of yummy goodness to make him 'healthy' again. Serphius cast a discerning eye down his own chest and stomach, both still bound tightly by bandages, and felt his waist with his empty hand. God, he looked and felt clinically obese. Tipping his head back on the cushioned arm of the chair, Serphius groaned. Perfect. Just perfect. He was as sick as a dog, tired as all hell, drunk as a skunk and now he was as fat as a fucking whale. At least the bruising had more or less gone away now. Just the wounds and the weight he had to shift left. With another swig of vodka, he turned over with some effort, and sat up, placed his bare feet on the floor, and stood carefully. He pulled at the waistband of his trademark impossibly tight trousers - the only item of clothing he was wearing - to stop them falling any further down his slightly less bony hips and stretched, arching his narrow back like a lanky cat, and almost falling over the table in doing so.

There was an array of items on the table, just about visible in the moonlit empty room. There was two bottles of wine - one red, one rose - which were both drained, three inconspicuous unmarked plastic pockets filled with a curious looking pale green powder, and a large bouquet of blood red roses which were looking a little worse for wear. The only sign to show where they'd come from was a tiny card tied to one of the stems, baring an ornate insignia of "L" on it. Serphius on regaining his balance seemed to suddenly remember they were there, and stood staring quite intently at them for a moment or two before picking them up. They were roses indeed, thorny and scarlet, but he couldn't help but think how they smelled just like magnolias...

It made him sick.

[Vance Danvers]

With a groan, Vance trudged back to the school. He was a wreck, hair falling around to frame his face as it fell in his eyes. It was longer now, and he'd put some red highlights in it, and though they weren't as noticeable as Aerich's, they were there and they fit. His contacts weren't in today, which left them a gorgeous pale blue color that could take your breath away. Few people understood why he would want to cover them up, but he did. Because it was the one thing that made him look like his father, and he hated it. He didn't hate his father, oh no, but he hated how he made him feel. He remembered being a kid, about 5 or 6, and his mom had died not too long before this. But still, he just needed someone to be there, someone to care.

No one did, and the proof of that lay in the memory, one he had never shared, not even with his siblings. He had been standing in the front yard, alone, when his father came home one night. He had went up to him and said,"Daddy... I love you this much. And I'm waiting on you to make up your mind. Do you love me too? However long it takes, I'm never givin' up. No matter what: I love you this much..." He had held his arms out as wide as they could go, and he waited for his dad to smile or say he loved him or even just give him a hug. Instead, he just gave him a look of pure loathing, turned, and walked away. It had crushed him, but he had never given up, even when his father would hurt him. Physically, mentally, and emotionally...

So here he was, swaying a bit as he walked. He wasn't drunk anymore. Oh no, that had been last night before his run-in with Ethan. Now, his clothes all rumpled and messy, he was returning. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt with a faded design on the front, a pair of dark blue jeans that were tight and held on his hips by a black leather belt with silver studs. A lip ring was in his lip, the silver ball on the outside now. Black converses adorned his feet, and instead of looking great and stylish, he rather looked worn-out and rumpled. The swaying was from the hangover and the lightheadedness that came from not eating anything for the past three days and puking his guts out earlier that morning in Ethan's toilet.

He was skinnier than ever now, his pants still sliding even with his belt on. You could see his ribs even through his shirt, which had once been tight. Now it was loose, and when loose clothes were on Vance Danvers, you knew something was wrong. He trudged up towards Intermise common room, intending to just go to his room, shut his door, and scream or something. Cry, throw things, whatever. He just needed to do something before he exploded, because holding things in anymore just wasn't cutting it. He looked down at his left arm and twisted it so he could see the inside of his wrist where a slender line went across, freshly sliced and diced. That had been last night's fun before visiting with Ethan, and he'd healed it enough so it wouldn't bleed.

He stepped into the common room and looked up as he heard movement, freezing where he stood. Standing before him with a bouquet of roses was Serphius de la Ravin, and he blinked a few times, eyes struggling to focus on his friend. Well, he supposed he could call him that. He hadn't actually talked to Serphius about that, but that was besides the point. He took a few steps closer to him, hoping his hair would hide the bruise on his left cheek. Ethan was never very happy, and just like his father, would take it out on Vance. However, unlike his father, he also took it out on him sexually. Biting his lip, he forced out a quiet greeting. "Oh. Um. Hello, Serphius... How-How are you?" Damn. So much for just getting to his room...

[Serphius de la Ravin]

A voice sounded in the inky darkness, and Serphius looked up from his flowers, squinting his black eyes to see who had given the faux casual greeting. Swaying a little, he gave a small milky smile, and dropped the roses on the table. It was Vance, and he looked awful. Waving his empty hand, trying to conjure up a suitable reply from his intoxicated mind, Serphius's smile slipped.

"You c'n see me? Oh, jolly good." he slurred, apparently pleased that he wasn't a ghost after all, though it would have been rather fun appearing suddenly through walls and scaring all the unsuspecting little kiddies, "And I am just dandy."

He finished the last sentence with a sarcastic roll of the eyes, and with a twist of his own wrist indicated to the bandages, and the fading bruises of his face and neck. The truth was, it looked a lot worse than it actually felt, especially thanks to the drink. Serphius eventually came to notice that Vance too was supporting a dreadful bruise on his left cheek. A frown crossed neat black brows - who had done that? And why? Lips parted to pry, but with a half hearted shrugged, Sephy decided it was politer not to ask. Vance was barely his friend - more of an acquaintance actually. He still couldn't trust him as far as he could throw him, no matter how similar their situations may have been. It wasn't his place to divulge in asking questions like that, and so he sat down before he fell down.

"Drink?" he offered, holding out the vodka to Vance, and crossing his legs. His jeans slipped down even further when he did this, but apparently he didn't seem to notice, "Come an' sit with me, why don't you?"

[Vance Danvers]

Vance blinked when Serphius spoke and nodded slowly as he asked if he could see him. He stood there, just inside the door, with one hand by his side, fingers laced through the belt loops. The other hand was against the wall, holding him up as he tried to stay on his feet. Serphius seemed to notice the bruise on his cheek, and his eyes widened a little before he subtly moved his head so his hair fell over it, covering it completely. He tilted his head so that the left side of his face was in more shadow, hiding it more efficiently. No one knew of his situation. Not a soul, and that was how he wanted to keep it. He would sleep and once he woke up, he'd heal it to make it go away. No more questions, no more answers. That was it.

But things were never that simple, were they? He half expected Serphius to ask, but he never did, so he breathed a small sigh of relief. He didn't have to talk yet. That was good; he wasn't sure he could. Then he was offered a drink and a seat with Serphius, and he hesitated for one moment. Should he, or should he just go? But then a flicker of an image flashed before his eyes, and it was almost as if he could feel hands on his chest and a whisper in his ear. His eyes closed, and his arms flew to his chest, covering it as his nails dug into his own arm. He bit his lip and forced his eyes open, taking a few shaky steps as he relaxed, his hands falling to tuck his thumbs into his pockets as he came closer to Serphius.

He took the bottle offered to him, tipping it back and drinking a good serving of it before falling onto the couch beside Serphius. "Thanks..." he spoke, voice flat and empty. He took another few gulps before offering it back to Serphius. He took a breath, shaky and shallow, before sighing and rubbing his face with his hands. After a few seconds, he found himself getting paler and paler, his hands shaking, and he covered his mouth with his hand before stumbling to his feet and over to the garbage can. He fell to his knees before it and promptly puked up his guts. It didn't stop there, though, once puking up the alcohol, he began to have dry heaves. Because there was nothing left to throw up.

He held onto the edge of the trash can with one hand, the other on the seat of another couch as his head rested against it. He was shaking and sweating, and his breathing was labored, broken often by more dry heaves. He groaned, shivering, as his eyes slid closed and he wished he could just die... His stomach was killing him, and it felt as though it were ripping apart. His arms crossed over his stomach, and he doubled over, making a small sound in the back of his throat as he struggled for a moment with the pain and the dry heaves. Finally, though, after minutes, it was over, and he sat there for a minute panting, sweating, and shaking. He was even paler than Serphius, and probably even more frail at that moment.

Hating this whole situation, Vance slammed his fist into the table beside him, shattering the glass and breaking his skin in many places. He gasped and cradled it against his chest before hissing in pain and anger. He hated this. He hated life in general, and what was there for him to live for anymore? His eyes fell on a large piece of sharp glass laying on the floor, and his other hand slowly reached for it, fingers stretching to try and grasp it in his hand. He had fallen completely still but for that hand, and the desire to just end it all here and now was immense. He had forgotten about Serphius for the moment, but it was remembered as he blinked and pulled his hand back, falling back onto his butt and pulling his knees up to his chest as he propped his arms on his knees and covered his face, resting it on his arms.

[Serphius de la Ravin]

Serphius hadn't been expecting anything that happened after he gave Vance the alcohol, though it was all startlingly familiar and distressing for him. An overwhelming feeling of pity threatened to bubble up inside him, but Serphius suppressed it. Vance would probably be the last person in the world who wanted his pity, even if he was in such a bad way. A thousand times the same had happened to himself, stumbling back to the Dorms, drunk and sick and unhappy and scared. Perhaps after an argument with Alexys. A fight with a tormentor. An encounter with Asmodeus...

Serphius shuddered, shutting his close-to-tears eyes briefly before standing quickly, sticking his arms out to balance himself. Black gaze fell on those three little pockets of powder, now lying on the floor, thankfully undamaged. Stooping, he slipped them into his back pocket. He stumbled closer to Vance - carefully kicking away the larger shards of glass as he did so - and opened the vodka, took a swig of it, and emptied the rest of it into the trash can. Clumsy fingers fumbled in his close fitted pockets for his wand, the tip of which he promptly stuck in the neck of the bottle, and muttered a slurred 'Aguamenti' charm. The bottle quickly filled up with clean, cold water, which was quite a feat for a drunk spell, and he pressed into the crook of Vance's elbow, careful not to touch him. Serphius crouched beside him, and tilted his head to the side. The fellow Intermise's dark hair could hide that bruise from him, but Serphius could see that something else was clearly wrong. He knew he probably wouldn't be able to do anything but make him physically a little more comfortable.

"Vance..." he said softly, his lips barely moving, "You're an idiot. Please...just dun do that, 'kay? Drink th' water. M-Make you feel better -- at least give you something better to sick up."

[Vance Danvers]

Vance looked up as a bottle was placed in his arms, and he sniffed it, his hand shaky as he grasped it and weakly lifted it to his lips. He tipped it back a little, drinking a couple of small sips, before lowering it again. It made a small thunk as it hit the floor, his hand still loosely holding it, but it didn't break, thankfully. He looked at Serphius and whispered,"I'm... I'm not an idiot... Most of the time..." He closed his eyes, placing his head back on his arm. He couldn't look at Serphius right now, the beautiful broken boy he had come to know only vaguely. He didn't know. He just didn't know anything about Vance, and that was a good thing. He didn't know the... things he did to himself and others.

He was innocent, and Vance wasn't. Plain and simple. He didn't deserve all the things that happened to him, and Vance did. "It was my fault... I-I deserved it... It was all my fault... He was right..." To anyone but Vance, it would sound like just random mumblings, and it was prone to cause some confusion. It was hard to follow his mind, really, even if you'd known him all your life. "I deserve all of this... Because it was my fault... All she ever did was love me... And it's my fault..." His fist tightened, shaking as he spoke into the couch, unable to look at Serphius. He just couldn't do it, because if he did, he might just break. He'd done that too much, and right now, it would be the worst thing.

"But he didn't do it this time... Oh no... He's far away from here... Doing his work or whatever..." He laughed bitterly and whispered,"And someone else has taken over... Only in an even more twisted way..." He hissed out a breath as he opened his palm, seeing the blood pooled in his hand. It was all over his clothes and the floor by now. "And I deserve every bit of it." It was barely audible, and it was spoken with such belief that it would be near impossible to change his mind. Because in his eyes, he was responsible, and he deserved it. Then again, try having someone tell you that every time they saw you and tell me how you turn out. He was quiet for a moment before he turned and faced Serphius.

His eyes, now the pale blue that came naturally, were a swirling mess of emotions, which was so unusual for the boy that it would have thrown him off guard. "Look at you... You don't deserve this, Serphius... You haven't done anything to hurt anybody... And you've been hurt so badly... Me? I've done things. I've done a lot of things, and I deserve everything that comes back to me... Because she's dead, and it's all my fault. It's my fucking fault! She should have lived. If I had only died, she could have lived... Damnit! All I ever do is hurt the people I love! So what's the point? Why should I try anymore? Why should I go on when all that happens is I hurt someone else?" Tears were in his eyes by now, but he wasn't finished there.

"You should go, Serphius... Go before I ruin your life too. I promise you, it will happen. Because knowing me is bad for everyone..." He closed his eyes, fighting hard not to cry. "They just get hurt... Every time, they get hurt... You've been hurt enough. You don't need my problems, Serphius, because you have enough of your own to deal with... And I've been alone all of my life... Being alone now wouldn't be anything new..." He took a shallow breath, feeling so weak and sick that he nearly passed out. His head ached so much, and he was so goddamn cold. He was shivering, but nothing could help. His knees against his chest, he wrapped his arms around them and hid his face, waiting to hear the retreating footsteps as Serphius left.

Everybody left him in the end, so why should this one stay? Why should he be any different?

[Serphius de la Ravin]

Serphius listened carefully and patiently to Vance's said and emotional little monologue, his eyes leveled at a shard of glass stuck at an angle in the shag of the carpet, catching the silvery moonlight beautifully. He felt like grabbing the boy by the shoulders, and telling him to pull himself together, and not to dismiss himself as easily as that. Was that how Cove had felt when he was with Serphius in the garden? The mere memory of that evening made his stomach clench. He'd been so blind to Cove's own distress. He'd been so self absorbed in his own misery he'd completely missed that of his best friend. Serphius bit his lip softly, a habit he hadn't done for a while. What could he do here? He was drunk, and stupid, and he had no experience in helping others - though plenty in being helped himself.

He rose his gaze to meet Vance's, and immediately forgot all the pearls of wisdom he had ready to say. Since when did Vance have such beautiful eyes? The gorgeous fine blue colour, the confusion, and the blood that soak his clothes and the floor all caught Serphius off guard. His lips moved without sound, and he bit them softly again.

"I'm not going," he said, voice soft but firm and damn, he meant it. Serphius shuffled around a little so he was sitting beside Vance instead of crouching in front of him. His legs had been getting cramp, "Now, shush and drink your water. You need some sleep too...y'can use my couch tonight, if you'd let me."

It was hardly the kindest of words, but it seemed like a sensible thing to offer. He was definitely not going to let Vance go to his room alone. Something bad had happened, and he'd seen how he'd reach for that shard of glass. Serphius decided he'd sit on that very spot until the morning came in the need called for it. He remember the cuts on his friend's hand, and pulled out his wand to heal them, but could remember the right spell. Instead of risking some sort of horrible magical mishap, he decided to unwind and sever a short length of his own bandages. They were fresh on just after dinner, and so far were blood free. Better than nothing, right?

"I'm not afraid of being with you..." he said after a moments ponderous thought, giving Vance the clean bandages, "I dun think you could ruin my life much. I think I've taken care of that one myself..."

[Vance Danvers]

Serphius seemed just about to say something, when he seemed to be caught off guard as he looked at Vance. He bit his lip, and Vance blinked. "Serphius... What's... Oh." He paused, remembering. His contacts, of course. He looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. He hated his eyes, thought they were absolutely hideous, and Serphius seemed to prove that to him then and there when he simply stopped talking. A faint blush crept into his cheeks, and he didn't meet Serphius's eyes for a few minutes, jaw clenched to keep from biting a hole through his lip, which is what would happen if he bit his lip. Instead, he busied himself with looking at his hands, which rested uselessly on his legs as they were pulled up to his chest.

He watched the blood dripping from his fingertips, mesmerized as it fell onto his pants and the floor, completely disregarding the whole mess of it all and the fact that bleeding wasn't a good sign. For a moment, he tried to pretend that he was alone, because without his contacts he felt... incomplete. Then Serphius spoke, and he turned his head toward him, though he didn't meet his eyes. In truth, he couldn't. Not after Serphius's first reaction. For some reason, he seemed to think that Serphius thought his eyes were ugly, like he did, and he didn't want him to have to see them and look into them. He was just trying to help his new friend before he found himself getting hurt too, just like everyone else did.

But what Serphius said shocked him enough that his eyes flew to meet his own, widened with surprise. His lips parted slightly, and he stared at him for a second before blinking and seemingly coming to his senses. "... Thanks... I-I think I'll take you up on that offer..." He paused, eyes lowering as he whispered,"I don't think I can be alone right now..." Then again, he also had a fear that he would open his eyes in the middle of the night and see Ethan standing there, and that made him shiver, his heart racing and his breath picking up just at the thought. It terrified him, really. But he forced himself to calm down a little, biting his lip hard enough that the pain as he broke the skin jolted him back to life, only to taste his own blood.

"Fuck..." he muttered, licking his lip and tasting blood. But sadly, it didn't stop, and he let his head fall back onto the couch behind him as he stared at the ceiling. Then suddenly, Serphius was tearing off bandages, and Vance lifted his head to look at him, licking the blood clean again. Still, it welled up once more, and this time he just ignored it. He was given clean bandages for his hand, and he began to wrap it when what Serphius said caused him to drop the bandages clean from his hand. He froze for a moment, staring at his hand, before his eyes slowly lifted to Serphius. He stared at him for a minute, his eyes once more a little shocked. Funny, he never thought he'd hear anything like that, and now he was...

His lips parted, and he whispered,"Really? Are-Are you sure?" It was breathed, barely more than a whisper, almost like he was afraid that it might disappear, that he had imagined it. It was clear that he hadn't known love or friendship or anything of the sort in his short lifetime, whether he spoke it or not. Then, suddenly, the worry slammed him full force, and he gasped, struck with a new fear now. What if... Ethan found out? Oh God, he could hurt Serphius! Suddenly, Vance felt even more sick than when he had walked in the door, but even more than that, his chest hurt. A hand snaked to his hurt, clutching his chest as he stared ahead, fighting the tears that were close to falling. No, Ethan couldn't hurt someone so beautiful, so innocent...

But he could, and he would. Vance slowly turned his eyes to Serphius and whispered,"But he'll hurt you..." His hand shot out to hold onto Serphius's arm as he whispered again,"He'll hurt you to get to me, to get me to do whatever he wants... Oh God... I-I-I can't... I can't do this..." He swallowed, the weight of his situation pressing down on him harder than anything, and he felt like he was suffocating. Closing his eyes, he turned his head away for a moment before breathing,"I'll just have to do what he wants... Whatever he wants." He lifted the water and took a few sips, not really thirsty, but he needed to get the terrible taste out of his mouth. He set it down and looked back at Serphius.

After a minute, he looked away and whispered,"I hate my eyes... If you were wondering about them, this is the real color. The green... It's just contacts, because I always hated them. They... My father has blue eyes, and... I hated the connection... He... Well, he likes green eyes, too... Not that I care, but I have to if..." He swallowed, and continued,"If I want my brothers to be safe... I have to do what he wants. I don't have a choice, Serphius, and I hate it. He can do whatever he wants to me, and I'm helpless, and there's nobody I can turn to. My siblings... They don't care about me, and Cove... I can't keep burdening him, and it puts him in danger. He's happy, and I'm not going to ruin that with my selfish ways..." He closed his eyes.

"I'm alone, Serphius; always have been, always will be..."

[Serphius de la Ravin]

Serphius tilted his head backwards, and was about to close his eyes when something in the darkness caught his scattered attention. Whatever it was, it was small and a black, a shadow within a shadow. He watched with interest as it tumbled out into sight, and smiled. Veronique Vamplew sat up to attention, her little ears pricked, acid green eyes watching her owner and his friend, her own tail sticking out her mouth. She got up and padded over to Serphius, weaving her slender black form through his legs. Small pink nose twitched, whiskers quivered, and a little raspy tongue went to taste the blood coming from Vance's wounded hand, but Serphius quickly scooped her up, depositing his cat onto his stomach, and wincing when he remembered about his stitches. Both boy and cat jumped when a hand grasped his slender arm suddenly. Sephy looked round at Vance, and blinked. He'd only heard about half of what he had said.

"So...Does that mean y'wouldn't believe me if I told you...you have some of the most beautiful eyes I've seen in...quite some long time?" he said quietly, smiling lopsidedly, "They make me jealous, I think. My eyes are black, y'see. Just black an' white, like everything else about me. Alesus...no...Al'xyus...Lexi! Yesh, him! He always did say I needed some colour in my life...Never really thought about what he meant 'til now."

He went on stroking Vamplew, who was now purring contently, but his hand froze, and he pursed his lips in thought. The cat wriggled off his chest onto the floor, where she stretched lazily. Still purring, she brushed against Vance's leg, tail twitch back and forth. Sephy watched her, mildly surprised. His cat usually didn't take to strangers very well - she didn't usually chase her own tail either. Her odd behavior reminded him of the three precious little packages in his back pocket. They felt like they were burning a hole through his jeans. Serphius glanced over at the boy beside him, and moved his arm ever so slightly out of his grip.

"Do you...want to be alone?" He asked, biting his lip softly, totally getting the wrong idea from what Vance had been saying. He didn't notice that his lip was bleeding, "I can go if you want. I mean, if you'd rather be alone that's okay. I need t'get used to not being with people now....now that...well, y'heard what happened with me and him...them...Cove and Lexi. An' really, I couldn't be more sure, honest."

Serphius ran a hand through his black hair, and tilted his head away from Vance. He had that heavy-limbed feeling that he always had when he'd been drinking, like he was moving though treacle with weights on his wrists. Long fingers picked at the seam on his jeans, and he chewed on his lip again. Vamplew had settled back on his stomach, covering up a fresh blossom of blood about the size of a Sickle that was spreading on the crisp white of his bandages.

"Vance...who is it?" he asked suddenly, looking back up, and squinting a little. The roses lying a few feet away from the boys caught his eye, and the little card with the initial on it. He ignored it. It was an innocent enough question, "I mean, who is it that hurts you like this? I want...I want to help, I think."

[Vance Danvers]

A cat appeared, and Vance just watched her for a few minutes before it seemed that Serphius actually heard him. And of all things to talk about, he was talking about his eyes. Vance really didn't want to hear how ugly he thought -- Wait. What? Beautiful? His eyes were beautiful? His eyes turned from Serphius and the cat to stare straight ahead, blinking a few times without saying anything until Serphius finished. He then looked down at his hand, which was currently soaking blood through the bandage, before looking back up at the boy beside him. His eyes narrowed in thought, his eyebrows coming together slightly, but still he didn't say anything. Instead, he analyzed what Serphius had said, took it in.

Finally, he spoke quietly, looking back down as the cat was purring, running along his legs. He reached his other hand down cautiously and ever-so-gently ran his fingers along the fur on her head, brushing across her neck and back, before retreating once again with a faint smile on his lips. It faded, however, as he looked back up at Serphius, who had pulled his arm out of his grip and started talking, words that had Vance's eyes widening slightly. Oh no! What had he said? Was he not supposed to pet the cat? What had he done? He just stared, mouth slightly parted, and found himself unable to speak, unable to even breathe properly. He'd screwed up yet again, had completely messed up his only chance...

He should get an award for this, he really should. His eyes lowered to his knees, staring at them with half-lidded eyes as he beat himself up mentally while his fingernails bit into his palm on his un-injured hand. There he went again, screwing up anything good that had ever happened to him. He felt like screaming or-or-or crying or breaking things; something... ANYthing! He didn't look up at Serphius, instead turning his head away and resting it lightly on his knee while his tooth came out once more to bite his lip. He found himself in this place a lot, a place full of pain and bitterness, mostly towards himself, and he hated it. Maybe he should just keep his mouth shut for once, and maybe -- just maybe -- he wouldn't run someone off.

His eyes squeezed shut, feeling his heart in his throat as it tightened. A song came to mind at that moment, just a few lines from it, and he felt as though it might just cause him to lose it. But you gave it all away when I needed you to stay. Just open up your arms, I need you here. I can't do this on my own; I've got nothing left to show. Open up your arms, I need you here. He didn't open his eyes, afraid of what would happen if he did, but instead pulled his knees even closer and wrapped his arms tight around them as if he were freezing, when in reality he was just hurting. That position at that time just seemed like it could protect him from all the bad things in his life, but nothing could protect him anymore.

He turned his head so his forehead rested against his knee, and his hands came up to hold his head close to his ears, partially because it hurt and also because he hurt. Inside. He had never understood why people did that, held their head when they were hurting, but he was starting to. He was starting to feel what it was like to hurt so much you just wanted something, anything, to make it stop. Even death. And the thought of ending his life then and there flashed in his mind, but he couldn't do it. Not until Serphius left, at least. His elbows were pressed tight up against his knees, and he was trembling slightly with the effort , showing how hard he was forcing his muscles to work to 'protect' himself.

But it wasn't working, and then Serphius said the words that took the chip in his walls and turned it into a large crack. Who is it that hurts you like this? His hands fell from his head to wrap around his knees, pressing them even more firmly against his chest, and his eyes slipped open. He lifted his head a little to rest his chin on his arm, but he didn't look at Serphius, his eyes instead on the floor. "Who-Who is it?" he whispered, his voice shaking. "I-I'm not sure anyone can help..." His eyes closed as his voice broke on the last word, struggling to keep himself from bursting into tears in front of Serphius. No one had seen him cry since the day his mother died; not a single soul had ever witnessed his breakdowns. They thought him empty...

Boy were they wrong. "He-He's..." He trailed off, lips pressing together tight enough to turn them white, before he forced them open. After a second, his voice escaped frozen lips as he breathed,"Ethan..." He swallowed and elaborated,"My-My... My drug dealer... H-He said..." His breathing was shallow and shaky, tears in his eyes as he whispered in a broken tone barely above a whisper,"He said that money wasn't... wasn't enough anymore... A-A-And... He threatened... He threatened to hurt Reid, Aerich, and Joe... My brothers..." It was coming a little faster now, as though getting it out faster was going to somehow make it easier. But it didn't; nothing could make this any easier.

He paused for the longest time here, before he spoke the next words. His eyes emptied out, his voice completely hollow. For that one sentence, that one breath of time, he was truly an empty shell, more apathetic than any other being. But it was only for a moment; just a moment. "He uses me, Serphius, in the most twisted ways just to get his kicks... rapes me..." And after that moment, he was just a shattered mess on the floor, and suddenly he couldn't stop it as the tears started flowing. They didn't stop, and he found himself suddenly terrified of Serphius seeing him like this, yet he needed him more than anything right now. In truth, the poor boy needed a lot of things, but overall, he needed someone who wouldn't leave him.

He didn't speak for a time, finding it too hard to get past the tears. His wrist was in his mouth now, muffling his sobs as the tears kept coming. After a time, though, he was able to whisper,"It hurts in every way possible... I hate it, but I don't have a choice. If I don't..." He closed his eyes, trembling with the effort of struggling not to cry. "If I don't do it... he'll hurt them. I-I've hurt them enough; I can't hurt them anymore..." The wrist that had been in his mouth was now resting on his leg, dangling in the air a little as he stared across the room, not really seeing anything at the moment. When he finally found the courage, he turned his head a little to look at Serphius, biting his lip.

"I'm scared, Serphius; I'm so goddamn scared..."


((Jesus! Sorry, Pickle, I didn't intend to write a novel. xP))

[Serphius de la Ravin]

It was such a sad sight for Serphius, watching Vance with lucid black eyes as the boy curled in on himself, clearly incredibly upset. He continued stroking and petting Veronique, just to give his nervous hands something to do in the awkward moment. He felt like he was intruding on a private moment. When the phrase 'drug dealer' was mention, Sephy perked up, his attention spiked. His face creased into a pitying smile.

"Oh Vance," he breathed out, his voice and actions suddenly a degree more sober, more normal, "What a pair we make...We're so deep in this, aren't we? Do you feel like you're drowning? Sometimes...sometimes I do. You can't move, can't breathe, can't control anything and you wonder how the hell you got in so far. It's mistakes, right? One after another. Or maybe you were dealt a bad hand; born to blossom, bloom to perish. Like me. I know what's happening to you Vance, because it's happening to me too. I'm just used to it by now."

His eyes were half shut, and the clapping of his cat had taken on a rather rhythmic motion almost like he was day-dreaming. Suddenly, he looked sharply round at Vance who had started weeping. There was a heavy pause, before Serphius slowly, ever so slowly, slid a thin arm round Vance's hunched figure, his hand holding the opposite shoulder in a reassuring grip. The movement disturbed Veronique's comfortable spot, and she sprang away, so she didn't get trapped between the two unhappy boys. Sephy stared at the patch where she had been sitting with mild alarm. The small streak of blood had grown considerably. It was now a vicious black splash spreading across the whole of his stomach. What little colour he had was slowly leaving him, but he chose to ignore it for a moment. He had been bleeding steadily for the past hour. Another little while wouldn't hurt him.

"Cry. Cry if you want to - don't ever feel that you have t'fake it in front of me. Never be ashamed to be scared Vance, because I sure as hell can't judge you," he touched the bandages on his chest almost fondly, and smirked crookedly, "His name was Laure...he was like my morbid guardian angel, the most beautiful person I have ever known. He took care of any little...thing...that I needed. He knew exactly what happened to me, what I done, what I said, where I went and who with...I don't know why. Don't ask me why. He always called me his 'favorite customer', and said it was his job to look after me. He scares me Vance, he scares me so much, because he says that he'll take them all away. My friends. He threatened Ashlei, and Alexys, and even Gaara and Cove, and the Lauriers...And then there's my brother. And there was my father. Dead but not forgotten, eh?"

Serphius laughed an entirely mirthless tinny laugh. Gently, he squeezed Vance's shoulder and pulled him a fraction closer, as though he was just reassuring himself that the boy was still there. The bitter sound faded quickly, and once again, the busy silence of early, early morning settled in. Head bowed slightly, his lips parted, and he relaxed a little. He felt like he could hear and feel everything in the room. It was a strange feeling.

"Are you in pain?" Serphius whispered, "Your heart is beating so fast..."

[Vance Danvers]

He couldn't even speak, couldn't reply to a word that Serphius was saying. His ears drank them in, needing to hear them, needing to feel like someone cared. It wasn't even that he wanted the attention, but he needed it in the worst ways. For one who had been neglected for years, pushed off to the side, even beaten, trying to be the center of attention had never been his thing. So this here, now, it was not an attempt to gain Serphius's attention; it was an attempt to ease the aches he felt, if even but for a moment. And Serphius understood. As much as he knew Serphius did not deserve such things, he was just slightly relieved that he could understand, that he wouldn't judge him for it.

When his arm came around him, he unconsciously moved just slightly closer to him. He had never been the type for intimacy, so to speak. Sure, he'd slept around, fooled around, danced nice and dirty with girls and boys alike, and pretty much did just about anything else you could think of. But it wasn't real, any of it. It was a one-time thing in most cases, and the thing with Ethan? Hardly intimate, romantic, or any other word such as those. A violation, a sick twist on the thought of sex and intimacy. God, he could even make kissing seem like the most repulsive thing on earth. Vance shuddered involuntarily, forcing his mind away from such things. Slowly, he was able to hear was Serphius was saying once more.

This time, he still did not speak. Perhaps he had lost his voice? No, he just was not sure what to say. There were plenty things he could say, but something wouldn't let him. Something held him back, kept his mouth firmly closed when his mind screamed possibilities at him, responses he should be uttering at that very second. Were it not for the invisible, unrecognizable force restraining his vocal chords, he most likely would have had yet another little 'episode' or whatever the hell you wanted to call it. So, whatever it was that held him back, he was thinking at the moment, though he still wasn't entirely sure why. However, as it seemed a bit much to question, he simply let it go and let the silence wash over him.

And Serphius pulled him closer. His body, with his mind on temporary leave, turned a bit more into the other boy, as if seeking a warmth that, despite his living body and physical warmth, was mysteriously absent within him. Then Serphius spoke, and eyes that had ceased the silent tears slipped upwards towards his face. His heart? He looked down at his chest, as though a bit confused, then his eyes travelled over to Serphius, and they widened. "Serphius! You're bleeding!" His tear-streaked face turned to look at Serphius directly, eyes widening even further when he realized how close they were, mere inches separating them, and lost any words he was about to say, completely forgetting them at that moment.

You'd think his next thought process would go something like this: 'Oh. Right. Serphius. Bleeding. Gotcha.' Instead, it skipped a step and tumbled straight from his mouth. "Your eyes are bleeding..." He blinked and stumbled along, "I mean, beautiful. Your eyes are beautiful. Your stomach is bleeding." The faintest of blushes crept into his cheek, and he couldn't help it. He laughed. It wasn't a hollow one, or even a fake one. It was real, genuine, and true. Of course, it wasn't long, especially with how much that hurt, but it was there. And a smile replaced it shortly afterwards. "Well, congratulations, love, you managed to get me all tongue-tied." And then another meaning of that phrase hit him, and his blush deepened as his eyes closed.

[Serphius de la Ravin]

Silence. Silence. Silence. Serphius didn't care if Vance didn't speak. He didn't care if another word didn't leave those sweet sad lips for a thousand years; he was talking, Vance was listening. He would be content with that. There weren't enough listeners in the world anyway. Serphius couldn't believe what he was doing, talking like this. Talking like he actually knew the boy, trusted him. He was drunk, yes, and quite considerably so, but even then it wasn't like him at all. Had he really chanced that much in such a short space of time? It was impossible. Impossible.

Nothing had changed.
Just everything.

Bleeding? Oh, yes, his stitches, the bandages. Serphius moved his arm from Vance's shoulder to brush his finger tips across the moist cotton - they came away stained with dirty scarlet. He bit down softly of his lip again, and pulled his gaze away from that tear-stained face, brushing the blood off on his jeans. He hadn't wanted Vance to notice. The last thing that boy needed was another reason to worry.

"It's nothing," Serphius said automatically. For a moment Vance slid out of focus and he felt sick, and a little shaky too but he put this down to the sight of his own blood. Looking into those baby blues, he tried to smile for him. He was squeamish, tired and drunk but he was certain he would be alright. They were so close, terrifyingly so. He could see that creeping blush, feel the heat from his body and count every tear that still clung to his lashes. Sephy looked away sharply, and slowly exhaled.

He hadn't even realized he had been holding his breath.

With some reluctance Serphius drifted away from Vance, using the couch behind him to push himself to his unsteady feet. His stomach burned in protest, a wet hot heat searing along his wounds. Biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself gasping, he was still for a lingering moment, his body tense and sore. He looked at a loss on what to do, "I s'pose...I s'pose I should go change my bandages then..."

Carefully picking his way through the shards of broken glass in his bare feet, Serphius staggered his way over to the stairs. At the bottom, he stopped and glanced over at Vance. His hand tightened on the banister. He didn't want to leave him sitting in the living room on his own, even if it was only so he could go change his bandages.

"If you come up in five minutes, I'll have everything ready for you," he said softly, referring the the offer of a bed for the night. He just had to quickly change the sheets and clear away the bottles and books so his room seemed at least vaguely clean. He then disappeared up the stairs heading towards the door. In the gloom, he turned and called back, "And I'll leave the door open too so you know which ones mine. Just come in when you're ready..."