Part 16-In A Little While

"I'd like to fall asleep to the beat of you breathing

in a room near a truck stop on a highway somewhere.

You are a radio. You are an open door.

I am a faulty string of blue christmas lights.

You swim through frequencies.

You let that stranger in, as I'm blinking off and on and off again.

We've got a lot of time. Or maybe we don't,

but I'd like to think so, so let me pretend."

The Weakerthans

Legolas found himself looking up at the white ceiling of a hospital room.

At first, he was terribly disoriented, his mind full of a jumble of images that just didn't seem to want to make sense.

�Boromir, Faramir, Aragorn...the sight of broken glass on a wooden floor... Blood...lots of blood.

�A small, dark elf with shining, storm-grey eyes smoothing his hair back and whispering to him in Quenyan as he fought the cramping pains in his abdomen...

He raised a hand up and looked closely at it. At least two I.V. lines had been taped to the back of his hand and they were filled with fluid. One was clear, and the other a dark, maroon red that could only be blood.

Legolas frowned. Why would he need blood again? Come to think of it, why the hell was he in the hospital?

He sighed and closed his eyes. He was so tired. He didn't want to think about what might have happened right now. All he wanted to do was sleep until things made sense again and the dull ache in his abdomen went away.

He probably would have drifted out of consciousness if it hadn't been for the bright flash of violet eyes out of the darkness that made him sit up gasping.

"Mr. Mirkwood! Please, lie down! Sudden moves like that will hurt the babies!"

Legolas blinked up at the pair of grey eyes that had materialized in front of him.

It was that same dark elf he recalled from his memories...but how did she get into his room? And what was she doing here anyway? And did she�

"Excuse me...did you just say 'babies'?" Legolas asked as he let the elf gently push him down onto the bed once more.

"Hmm? Oh yes! Congratulations, Mr. Mirkwood. You're having twins! Quite a surprise for us too. We wouldn't have known until much later if you hadn't been brought in because of the placenta praevia. Even though you are an elf, you were terribly lucky to have been treated so quickly for it," the elf told him as she fussed with both the blankets and a belt of some sort that had been strapped around his belly.

"What is that thing?" Legolas asked as he watched her check the wires attached to a small square box that led to some kind of machine right beside his bed.

"It's to monitor the heartbeat of your children. We want to make sure the fetuses are healthy as well as prevent a miscarriage. Even though we managed to stop the bleeding, your health and your children's health is still at risk."

Legolas blanched at these news.

"So...I�ehm...nearly lost the babies?" he asked, his voice a bit unsteady as he spoke.

The elf finished fussing over his blankets and the monitor and looked at him sympathetically.

"Yes. I'm sorry to have thrown all that at you the minute that you woke up, but we do want to keep that from actually happening, right?"

Legolas took a deep breath in an effort to calm his rapidly beating heart. Nearly lost his children? He was nearly sick at the thought of losing the lives that he had created. Even though losing them may have been better for everyone in the long run, Legolas just felt cold and ill all over. There would have been no freaking way, he realized that he would have ever gotten over such a loss.

No matter how long he would have lived, he would have carried that horrible sense of being incomplete. Of a horrible emptiness that he would have never been able to be rid off.

He wanted to freak out when he realized this. Truly, he did. But he knew that it wouldn't have been good for his children, so he forced himself to remain calm.

"But they will be fine?"

The dark elf nodded at him before she pulled up a chair and sat down, still keeping her grey eyes focused on him.

"Yes. As long as you follow the doctor's orders, I'm sure that you will have a healthy pregnancy and labour."

Lee smiled in relief. That was good news. It looked like he wouldn't have to prevent Yohji, Thom and Duo from killing Casey after all. Even though he did so richly deserve it.

"So where is my doctor?" He asked her, looking around the room as if he expected him to pop out of the woodwork at any moment.

"He'll be in to have a look at you shortly. You will be under our combined care, since this is now considered a high-risk pregnancy. Placenta praevia is a serious matter, so we need to be extra careful with you from now on."

Legolas felt like shrinking into himself at these news. He was stunned that things had turned out this way. He had honestly believed that the biggest problem that he would have to deal with after matters with Faramir had settled down would be to find clothes big enough for him as he grew and whether he'd be able to defer the scholarships to St. Adrian's university until he was able to find someone to take care of the child for him.

And now, things had just suddenly gotten even more tangled. Beginning with the changing of his and Boromir's relationship and the effect that it would have on Aragorn and Faramir, then the whole incident at the bar - which Lee was positive had something to do with the whole Boromir issue - the news he was carrying twins, and now this. What was going to be next?

He frowned. Maybe he really shouldn't be asking the question when he was positive that he didn't want to hear the answer. He was sure Fate was still sitting in the corner of the room eager to whip out even more wildcards in order to make his life twice as miserable.

So he decided to turn his mind to the more practical things that were plaguing him. Like when the hell was he going to get out of the hospital and be able to visit Boromir.

"Cool. So when am I getting out of here?"

The elf, whose name-tag proclaimed her to be Celebrethil Menel, midwife, smiled at him as she looked at the medical charts she held in her hand.

"I know that you are eager to leave and be with your family, Mr. Mirkwood." She shook her head in irritation. She really hated the formal bullshit that was required whenever she met a new patient.

"May I just call you Legolas? I think that we can divest ourselves from all this formal language already, wouldn't you agree?"

Legolas laughed softly despite himself.

"Yeah, I agree. Go right ahead, Celebrethil."

Celebrethil smiled impishly before returning to the matter at hand.

"As I was saying, Legolas...I know you are eager to leave here, but I am afraid that you will have to remain at least a week for observation. And after that, you will have to get as much bed-rest as possible until the children are born."

Legolas kind of slumped back into the bed when he heard this. It was great that his children were going to be okay, but to have to be stuck in a bed for a whole year? He really couldn't imagine how he was going to stand it.

He ran a hand through his hair and let his hand drop down on the bed.

It didn't seem like anything was going to be easy for him. Ever.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eowyn walked through the front doors of the school with her shoulders hunched against the cold. Snowflakes clung to her fair hair and eyebrows and she was just utterly miserable.

She just felt like hell. Not only was she sick, she was also terribly lonely. Eomer was always busy with his schoolwork and the hockey team, which left little time for anything else. Including her.

Max, Danny and Glor were all too distraught over what was happening with the Denethorson's and with Strider and Lee, so they were also not really paying attention to her. Sure, she sort of hung around with Sam and Frodo, but it wasn't the same. She just felt like she was a shadow and intruding into everyone's life.

She knew she was lonely when she found herself actually wishing that Arwen was still around. Sure, it was an exercise in self-restraint to not comment on Arwen's self-absorbedness, but at least she wasn't being ignored and shunted aside as if she were nothing more than a piece of rubbish.

Sighing, she rubbed her forehead. Damn. She was burning up! Why the hell did she feel so cold then?

"Maybe going to school wasn't a good idea," she muttered to herself, stopping as a wave of dizziness hit her. She leaned against a row of lockers in one of the lesser used school hallways.

She wasn't a big fan of school, but she went to avoid the constant boredom and loneliness at home. Uncle Thengel was always too busy with his lawyer shit to think about her, Theoden and Eomer had their own lives to deal with. So that left her to either sit in front of the telly and vegetate, read and paint constantly, or while away the days with a couple of joints and a skateboard before she could fall asleep.

So even though she had already thrown up that morning and was shivering from the cold, she made herself go to school. At least she would have others around and that wouldn't make her feel as lost and alone as she felt right now.

She closed her eyes and pressed her hot face against the cool metal of the locker to gain a bit of relief from her fever. It felt so good, she told herself as she sagged against the locker. If she could only stay like this for the rest of the day, it would be nice.

She probably would have fallen asleep if it hadn't been for the voices that intruded into her feverish mind and forced her to open her eyes and blearily search them out.

"--black now. So relax. It was done at Halbarad's shop. No one's going to know. So chill, okay?"

"You sure? I don't want to have my life ruined because you couldn't drive a straight line that night."

"Excuse me? You were the one driving when we hit him."

Eowyn's eyes widened when she recognized the hushed, but still audible voices were coming from the doorway.

What the hell were Theoden and Arwen arguing about? The paint on his car?

She frowned as she slid down to the floor. Why was the paint so important? It was just a *car*, for fuck's sake. Why should Arwen be all freaked out about it?

"Fuck. How the hell did I know that the little shit was going to run out in the street?"

The sound of flesh striking flesh followed by the sound of soft sobbing made Eowyn sit up straighter and look worriedly towards the doorway where she could see them, Arwen with her hand held to her face, and Theoden looming over her like a menacing shadow.

A shadow that Eowyn knew all too well from her younger days.

When Theoden began to get physical, things were going to get really ugly for anyone in the vicinity. Even though she had never been struck by him when he got angry, she had seen what kind of damage he could inflict when he found a victim. Which unfortunately tended to be Eomer when they had been younger.

His rages were a rare thing, but when they occurred, it was a wiser choice to make yourself as scarce as possible from the area.

Swallowing her nervousness, Eowyn looked around for an escape route. Despite being hidden by one of the doors, she knew it was just a matter of time before they saw her.

She was making an effort to get to her feet, but the lethargy that had driven her to lean against the lockers had a strong grip upon her. Her legs, despite her determination, simply wouldn't move and it felt like she was going to slide into blackness any minute now.

"Shut up. That's all you have to do, Arwen. Keep your mouth shut and we're in the clear, okay? Do you think you can do that?"

Eowyn shivered. This was not good at all. They would come here any minute and they would discover her and she was done for, since Theoden would know that she had listened in on his and Arwen's conversation. One thing that Theoden hated was to have his privacy invaded since he was overly paranoid about getting caught doing anything. He would act like a cornered animal if he thought he was going to get busted from someone tattling on him.

"Think. Think," she muttered as she reached up for the locker handle to help keep her steady as she labouriously got to her feet.

If she recalled correctly, there was a classroom, or some unused room down this hallway that she could hide in before Theoden and Arwen found her. The only trick now was to actually get to her feet and get moving before they decided to look in her direction.

Moving sluggishly, Eowyn managed to actually stand up without making too much noise. But the minute that she was on her feet, the dizziness came back ten times worse. She tried to fight it. Honestly, she really tried.

But the dizziness won out, and she just fell back against the lockers, her head and back striking the metal with a loud clanging noise that echoed and re-echoed both in the hallway and in her head.

She groaned when the noise stopped and she found herself looking up into a pair of icy-blue eyes.

"What did you hear?" Theoden hissed the minute that Eowyn's eyes had met his.

Eowyn was going to deny hearing anything, but her brain was a trifle occupied with wondering how the hell Theoden had moved so fast from one end of the hallway to the other without her noticing.

"What did you hear?" Theoden repeated, his voice going down to a dangerous pitch.

"N-nothing." Eowyn whispered. "Nothing at all."

Theoden frowned before he grabbed the collar of her winter coat and pulled her up so that her face was just inches away from his.

"What did you hear?" Theoden asked her again, clearly not believing the answer that he had been given.

"Nothing." Eowyn answered again.

Theoden laughed a short, humourless laugh before he slammed Eowyn's head against the locker.

"Theoden!" Arwen cried out, shocked that Theoden would willingly hurt his own cousin.

"Shut up Arwen!" Theoden barked before he turned his attention back to a stunned Eowyn.

"What did you hear?" he growled before he slammed her head again. "And this time you'd better tell me the truth, or else I'm going to bash your brains out onto the fucken locker."

Eowyn's eyes widened at the threat. Why didn't he believe her when she told him the truth?

"Nothing. I swear. Nothing," she whispered before she made a half-hearted effort to get out of Theoden's inexorable grip before he made good on his threat.

Theoden's eyes narrowed and with a snarl of rage, he took his cousin and slammed her so hard against the metal that it made Eowyn's eyes roll back into her head.

"Tell me! What did you hear, you fucken bitch! Tell me before I fucken break your neck!"

Eowyn only shuddered and let out a mewling sound as she tried to stay awake and away from the painful super nova that was threatening to drag her under.

Another blow to her already throbbing skull didn't help matters any, since it seemed that the only thing that it had achieved was to give her even more of a headache and to make her totally disoriented and unable to give her cousin any answers at all.

She was so confused and loopy that she barely registered the loud fracas that suddenly erupted behind Theoden, causing him to drop her like a stone.

"--Touch her once more and I'm going to tear your spine out and shove it up your ass! You hear me!"

Even though the light made her wince, Eowyn fought to open her eyes. The voice that had yelled out the threat sounded terribly familiar, but she really couldn't place it. Everything hurt, but she had to look and see who it was that had saved her from what could have been a nasty fate at her cousin's hands.

Struggling, she finally was able to see who it was. To her surprise, she found herself looking up at a terribly furious Max. Shocked, she then brought herself to a sitting position where she could see what was happening a little better.

Max had grabbed Theoden by the throat and was now shoving him against a locker and it looked like he was trying to do his best to strangle the human. Arwen was nowhere to be seen and the only other people in the hallway were Glor and Danny and both looked like they wanted to do nothing better than to murder the slowly suffocating Theoden.

"You hear me?" Max yelled again, taking Eowyn's focus off of her cousin and putting it back onto the elf, whose blue-black hair had come loose from the low ponytail he usually had it in and was now floating around his shoulders, making him look like a crazed and very dangerous animal.

"Yeah." Theoden finally managed to wheeze out after Max had somewhat loosened his grip on his neck. "I hear you. I swear I'm not gonna touch her."

Satisfied, Max let him drop onto the ground. But Eowyn could tell that the elf was still terribly angry. There was a strange shimmer in his grey-green eyes as he looked at her cousin and then at her.

"You okay?" he asked her, his voice harsh, but softening ever so slightly for her benefit.

Eowyn nodded, suddenly unable to speak, stunned at his actions and at his savage beauty.

"Are you sure?" Max asked her as he then held out a hand to help her up. "Cause I can take you to Nurse Diamond's office if you're not."

"She'll be fine." Theoden muttered sullenly as he slowly got to his feet.

"I wasn't asking you, Rohan. Now piss off before I'm tempted to make good on that threat."

"Yeah. Shove off Theoden. You're not welcome here." Danny added, his tone menacing.

Theoden snorted. "Fine. But we aren't finished," he added as an afterthought, shooting his cousin a look that promised retribution once they were alone.

"We say you are, Rohan." Glorfindel added, his voice quiet as he spoke.

"As if a little fag like you is going to stop me," Theoden snorted as he straightened his jacket out.

"Well, how about a big fag, his brother, Orophin and Rumil and the rest of the skaters?" Danny asked, stepping forward, his eyes blazing with an angry green fire. He walked right up to Theoden, close enough to make the human take a step backwards and be caught up short by the dented metal locker behind him.

"I'm going to say this to you once, Theoden. Only once, so listen up," Danny hissed, practically spitting in his face. "If you come within two feet of her in the school, we will kill you. If you come within two feet of her outside of school, we will kill you. If you even think about looking at her funny, we will kill you. If you try anything at home, we will tell Eomer what happened here and I'm sure that he will be quite happy for us to help him kill you. Either way, you're a dead man. So why don't you just take this opportunity to save that miserable excuse you have of a life and slither to your class, okay?"

Theoden lowered his head and after a few moments of suspense, he nodded miserably and slunk off. Sure, he could very well take on one elf at a time. No problem. But to have five of them and two hobbits and Eomer against him made his bravado disappear. Discretion was the better part of valour in his book and he was going to follow that maxim and get the hell out of there before he was killed.

"Fucker." Glor muttered as he and Danny watched him leave.

"Nah. More like a dick." Danny muttered as he slung and arm around his boyfriend and turned to look at how his brother and Eowyn were faring.

"Can you walk? Or do you need my help?" Max was asking as he watched Eowyn shakily stand, one hand on his arm and the other on the locker as she tried to walk.

Eowyn shook her head and was about to lie and say that she was well, but her face betrayed her at that moment by turning a lovely shade of greenish-white.

"Stop talking to her and get her to a washroom or something!" Danny told his brother the second he saw her face.

Max blanched at Danny's words, but kept his head. Acting quickly, he grabbed Eowyn and rushed her to the nearest washroom. Which happened to be the teacher's washroom. The male teacher's washroom.

"What are you kids doing in here?" Elrond exclaimed as he was shoved aside by Danny, who held the door open for Max and Eowyn to rush through.

Danny shoved Glorfindel forward, and quickly got out of the room, figuring that Elrond would go easy on his angelic-looking boyfriend. Glorfindel looked behind him and gave the door a glare. Elladan was definitely going to pay for this. Oh yes. He was.

"Well, Mr. Lorien?"

Glorfindel looked up at his dark-haired teacher and swallowed hard as he prepared his excuse.

He was about to speak when the sounds of Eowyn retching filled the washroom, making the explanation moot. Which he could tell simply by looking at the _expression on Elrond's face.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Mother is a coward." Celebrian told the stuffed bear she was bringing Boromir. "Yes she is. Even though she is my mother and I love her very much, she is still a coward."

Celebrian muttered as she pulled the bear out of the backseat along with a box of Maple sugar candy, albums and books that she was positive Boromir would be grateful for, since he was for all intents and purposes, a prisoner. Both of the hospital and of his own body and she was sure that he was already going mad being locked up between four walls day in and day out.

She also knew, even though she didn't want to truly admit it, that the gifts were to soften the blow of the news that she had been charged to give him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Flashback

"I hate to whine, I really do, mother. But why do I have to be the bearer of bad news here?" Celebrian had asked Galadriel as she had packed the box carefully with some of the gifts she had brought back from the east. Although she had planned to give them to her little gowk at Christmas, her mother had suggested that maybe they would be better received at this time.

Galadriel remained silent for several moments, watching her daughter and sipping at her tea, which she had poured into the mug decorated with crudely painted cats and pumpkins that Boromir had claimed as his own five years before.

It wasn't until Celebrian had finally shut the box that she had found her voice to speak.

"I can't do it. That is why," Galadriel admitted quietly, making Celebrian look up at her mother in surprise.

To hear her capable mother admit that she was at a loss at how to handle this situation was an utter blow to her. Sure, she knew that her parents weren't infallible, even though they sure as hell seemed to be when compared to other people's parents. But to hear her mother actually say, "This is too much for me, I cannot even begin to think about how to deal with it" was something that definitely was on par with the sky turning a nice murky shade of reddish-grey and have snow start falling in the middle of August.

She was being asked to deal with that knowledge and to deal with her fragile little brother as well in one fell swoop.

Celebrian tugged at the spikes she had just carefully made out of her bangs and looked at her mother.

"Why can't you do it now?"

Galadriel shut her eyes at the question. Normally, she wouldn't have admitted her weaknesses out loud to anyone, much less her daughter. But this time, she really hadn't a choice. Namely because she knew that she would be lying to herself if she didn't, and also because she knew that it wasn't her place to take a hand in the events that were going to happen. And because she knew very well that she simply wasn't the one to offer Boromir comfort.

It was true that they were closer than a normal family was. But she felt, rather than knew, that there was a thin wall between herself and her son that she couldn't really breach. It wasn't a thing that Boromir was aware of, most of the time, but she could feel it whenever she had tried to get closer to him. That wall was there ever since she had known him and it felt like it was getting harder to breach the older he got.

The last time she had tried to do just that had been the day after he had woken up from his attempted suicide. She hadn't tried to break it ever again, the wall was just too thick to allow for her to get through it.

The only persons that could do that, she saw, had been Legolas and her daughter. Even Faramir, despite the fact that they were brothers and shared a bond that went deeper than any of the bonds they had with anyone else, hadn't been able to breach the wall either. Only those two had managed it. Legolas more than anyone, but it had been done.

She had hoped that Aragorn would have been able to help Boromir get over this latest tragedy, but that hope had been extinguished the minute that she had walked into his room and had found the young human wrapped protectively around Faramir, his long limbs intertwined with the younger boy's as they slept the deep sleep of emotional exhaustion.

She didn't grudge him the comfort that he was now getting from Faramir. All of them were being battered by everything that they were facing and if they had to seek comfort in each other, so be it. The comfort that they had was preferable to either of them just going mad by keeping their grief to themselves.

She opened her eyes and looked at her daughter.

"I cannot offer Boromir the comfort that he will need when he is told the news," she replied before taking another swallow of her warm tea.

"Boromir has never fully let me in. Not like he let you and Legolas in. It would be useless if I tried to talk to him right now. His grief would just make the wall he keeps between us stronger and nothing would get through."

Celebrian shook her head at her mother's words.

"Mother. No. I'm sure that Boromir doesn't--"

"He doesn't realize that he is doing it, Celebrian," Galadriel interrupted her calmly. "He's always had that shield up. I don't blame him for it, since he had to face so much at such a young age. It's his last line of defense and no matter how much I would like to break that wall, it is too strong. Too elusive."

Celebrian ran a hand through her hair in frustration when she heard her mother's explanation.

It was true that whenever Boromir had a problem, he had run to either her or Legolas. That was if he had even reached that stage. Most of the time, he would keep it quiet until he either solved it himself or it was simply pried out of him. When that was the case, it was mostly done by Legolas or herself. She was positive that no one else had ever managed to do that. Faramir was a second choice, but she wasn't sure how much closer they had gotten since she had gone to McGill.

"Shit," she whispered before she looked down at the box on the table once again. Her mother was right. There was no one else to do this but her. Or�

"What about Aragorn? I mean, they are going out and all that. Wouldn't it make more sense for him to go tell Boromir?"

Galadriel shook her head.

"He is with Faramir now. They have their own problems to deal with and even though it seems like it is wrong for them to form a bond at this time, I think that it is better for them to do so."

Celebrian frowned. "Are you sure that it is a good thing? I mean, Boromir adores Aragorn. Faramir, I think, has been in love with Legolas since the first time he set eyes on him. Don't you feel that this is just...I don't know�a rebound thing that is going to hurt them all worse in the end?"

Galadriel pursed her lips at her daughter's comment.

"I realise that could happen. But the other alternative that I see is that they will be able to build a stable relationship. A less complicated one. One that they are more able to give and take more evenly than their previous ones."

"Mother!! You can't say that!" Celebrian exclaimed, horrified at her mother's point of view. "Those guys love each other! If they just break everything off with each other, it's going to kill them. Maybe not now, maybe not in a little while, but later it will. You can't condone that!"

"I am not condoning it!" Galadriel exclaimed.

"Then why are you so calm about Aragorn leaving Boromir? Which, by the way, he hasn't even *mentioned* to Boromir himself! Mother, this isn't right! We shouldn't be just standing back and letting them wreck their lives! We should--"

"We should do what, exactly?" Galadriel asked her daughter, her tone weary. "They are their own persons. Whatever decisions they make, they will be the ones to make them and they will be the ones to live with them. We cannot interfere with them! No matter how much we would wish to set things right, we cannot interfere. The course has been set. We cannot do anything now...except to watch and pray that things will turn out for all of them."

Celebrian's eyes narrowed at her mother's words.

"What have you seen, mother?" she asked, her voice soft. "What has the bowl revealed to you about them?"

Galadriel looked at her daughter sharply.

"That you will succeed where I will only fail and that there are still dark times ahead," the elder elf replied before she walked out of the kitchen, leaving Celebrian alone.

End Flashback

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later, Celebrian took the box and the teddy bear her father had bought during a Christmas shopping trip to the car. Celeborn walked beside her, helping her carry the heavier stuff.

"It's silly. But...well� He did have that damned bear he loved so much," Celeborn told his daughter when he had presented the old-fashioned brown bear with the soft green ribbon tied around its neck.

"Oh yeah!" Celebrian had exclaimed when she had taken a good look at the bear.

"What did he call him?" she asked, trying to recall exactly the battered, moth-eaten bear's moniker. She smiled at the memories of how Boromir had fiercely clung to it until it had simply fallen apart.

"Ingo? Idren?" Celeborn's frowned as he tried to recall the name of the bear. "I know that it started with an 'I'...Italo?"

"No. That doesn't sound right...somehow," Celebrian told him as she tugged at a spike.

"I know that it was close to that. But I can't exactly remember it."

She shrugged. "We'll know soon enough when I give it to him."

Celeborn nodded as he looked at his daughter and tried to speak to her, to tell her how proud of her he was and how sorry he was that she was the one to bear such a heavy burden on her shoulders. He hadn't approved of his wife's decision to let her take care of the whole Boromir issue, but she had seen something in her bowl. Something that had made her shut herself off from everyone for hours until she had felt well enough to come back to them and give her daughter that particular task.

"Celebrian..." he tried to say more. Truly, he did. But his mouth got all dry and he could only utter her name. There wasn't anything he could think of to soften the blow. He was helpless. Nothing he could say would help her any. But he wanted to help her.

"I know," Celebrian replied, not taking her eyes off from the sidewalk. "You don't have to soften it for me, dad. We are, after all, servants of the fates that send her the visions. She cannot do anything about it, neither can we."

"I know. I know it is also a vain human hope to wish that things like this didn't occur either. But at times like this, when I see all of you thrust into dark times with no way to prevent it, it makes me indulge in this kind of whim."

Celebrian nodded. "I'd better get going though. Boromir is probably climbing the walls as we speak."

Celeborn smiled, since he knew how impatient his foster son could get when he was bored.

"Tell him I said hi and that I miss him," he told his daughter as he kissed her forehead.

"I will. See you later," Celebrian replied as she put the stuff in the car and sped off, leaving her father standing on the sidewalk.

Those events then led to her muttering about her mother being a coward as she pulled out the gifts and arrange them in a way that would make it easier for her to transport them upstairs to Boromir's room.

"Why did they have to put you on the third floor?" Celebrian muttered as she struggled with the awkwardness of her burdens. Well, at least she had found a parking spot close to the doors so that her trip wouldn't be as long.

After she had trudged through a snowy path and shared an elevator with an annoying seventeen year old and her little brat of a brother, Celebrian was ready to murder someone. She really liked kids, but the little shit's whining was something that could make even Mother Theresa want to strangle him and his sister, who looked like she was trying to out-whore the whores on 95^th St.

She was glad once they all got off the elevator the two children headed over to the opposite ward that Boromir was in. At least she wouldn't have to hear their annoying voices as she tried to talk to Boromir. Thank god for small mercies and all that.

She thought she was going to have a somewhat normal visit with Boromir, despite the news she was going to break to him. Sure, that wasn't going to be a pleasant bit of work, but if she got it over and done quickly, things wouldn't be as sticky later on.

That hope though quickly evaporated when she entered his room.

Normally, the lights would be turned on quite brightly, illuminating the dull beige room that Faramir and Legolas had tried to brighten up by tacking up posters over every available surface. The Manic Street Preachers, NOFX, Bad Religion, Jim Morrison, Van Gogh renderings and Rembrandt all decorated the walls, making the place look less sterile and more homey. Boromir himself would be either sitting in his wheelchair or in bed, either writing, doodling or reading while he listened to music.

But today, the room was dark and silent. Boromir wasn't anywhere to be found at a first glance. At first, Celebrian was ready to panic, since she was afraid that Boromir was somehow *gone* without any explanation whatsoever.

But as she came closer to the bed, she found him lying in a small huddle under the blankets, his hair limp and greasy, his face ashen gray and slack, his eyes a dull green and red-rimmed as he stared out the window at the darkening landscape outside.

"Gowk?" she asked softly as she walked up to the bed.

Boromir didn't reply. He just lay there, his eyes still focused on the landscape outside his window.

Worried, Celebrian put the stuff down on the bedside table and sat down on the bed.

"Gowk? Please. Talk to me." Celebrian pleaded as she reached over and pushed a strand of hair away from his face and tucked it behind his ear.

She waited for several moments, but when he refused to reply, she called his name again.

"Boromir?"

His eyes shifted from the window finally and rested on her face.

She nearly recoiled from the fragmented pain that she saw in his eyes. She hadn't seen him looking so shattered since that morning�after.

She took a hard swallow. Even though it had been two years, she still couldn't forget the blood in bathtub and how it seemed to soak into everything, staining the pristine walls and tiles, Boromir's clothes, his skin and his hair, Lee's own hair and her hands...

She shook her head. She really didn't want to have those images dredged up again. Once was quite enough for her, thank-you.

"What happened?" Celebrian asked Boromir as she began to stroke his hair in an effort to offer him some comfort.

"Was it the doctors?" she asked him, aware that even though they hadn't gotten any negative news about his conditions, things could have possibly taken a turn for the worst.

Boromir shook his head. "It has nothing to do with me, actually," he told her, his voice low.

He shut his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts before he spoke. The events of last night were still too fresh in his mind for him to speak freely. Also, they scared him. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before and it was...unnerving�to say the least.

"What happened to Legolas?" he asked her, his voice wavering slightly despite his best efforts to keep it even.

Celebrian's hand stilled on his head. How...how had he known?

"Who told you?" she asked him.

"No one had to. I felt it," he said as he sat up. He pushed his hair out of his face and shifted his weight so that it rested against the headboard of his bed.

"You...you�*felt* that something happened to Lee?" Celebrian asked him, her voice hardly above a whisper.

"Yeah," Boromir replied, his eyes fixed on his hands as he talked.

"He was in so much pain. And he was afraid and I felt it all. In here," he told her, tapping his chest as to show were the fireball of agony had struck him.

"It was as if he was running around in my heart and in my head. He was...so scared. So very scared and the pain...I have never felt anything like that...it...it...it...felt like I was getting knives driven into my belly. I couldn't think...I couldn't see.".

He fell silent and shuddered slightly before wrapping his arms around himself. It had been an experience that he would have much rather forget than relive it for his sister. But he had to tell her so that he would know for sure whether it had all just been in his head or whether it had really happened.

He truly believed that it had happened. He really did. The feel of Legolas in his head was still there. Not as a harsh silver flame as it had been in those moments, but as a small, soft glow that he could see whenever he closed his eyes and thought about it.

But it could also have been either his imagination or the after-effects of the pain-killers that he got if his back was bothering him.

"But I think the worst thing was that.. I wasn't there to help him. Or to ease the pain for him." He closed his eyes briefly before focusing once again on his sisters' pale face.

"Did anything happen?"

Celebrian nodded, her mouth having suddenly gone dry.

Boromir lowered his head so that his hair was covering his face.

"What happened?"

There were several long minutes of uncomfortable silence that stretched out so long that it was nearly painful to just be in the room, never mind to speak in it. Until finally�

"Casey."

Boromir's shoulders stiffened and jerked as if he had received a heavy blow across his shoulders.

"What did he do?"

Celebrian licked her lips as she prepared to tell him the story that she had gleaned from Aragorn's drunken ravings, Duo's and Yohji's stilted explanations and her father's terse comments.

"Ehm� It seems that when you and I were talking, Aragorn over-heard our conversation."

Boromir winced at this, but said nothing. Celebrian looked at him for a sign as to whether she should continue with her tale or not when Boromir nodded.

"Go on."

"He ran out and took Faramir out to a pub where they got plastered. It seems that Casey arrived earlier or later than they did and he tried to make Faramir the unwilling recipient of his attention. When that failed, he was going to cut up his face. Aragorn got there in time and beat the snot out of him."

Boromir smiled briefly at this. Well, at least he wouldn't feel too bad the next time he saw Aragorn. But on the other hand, it meant that he owed him a favour.

"But when that was going on, Lee, Yohji and Duo showed up and Casey attacked Lee."

Boromir's face went utterly white at this statement.

"Is Lee okay then? And the baby?" he asked, his hands bunching up the blankets in his anxiety. He knew how vicious Casey could get when riled. Especially against someone that he held a grudge against. He didn't know exactly what had happened between those two, but he knew that Casey had never forgiven or forgotten whatever it was.

"Lee and the baby are okay. We don't know how long they're going to be in the hospital, but they are okay."

Celebrian didn't tell him that Lee had bled quite a bit and that he was one lucky elf in that he neither lost the baby or his life. She could tell by the way that Boromir's eyes were scanning the brown blanket that he was feeling extremely low right about then and didn't think that the extra information was needed. Boromir needed to get over the shock first before she was going to drop that in his lap.

Boromir nodded and just kept looking down at the blanket, making Celebrian wonder what exactly he was thinking or feeling at that time. She couldn't tell either of these things since his hair covered his face and his eyes were busy boring holes in his blanket.

Some people said that even when they were looking at him head on they couldn't tell what the hell was going on in his mind. But Celebrian never had that problem. She could usually tell what was going inside his messy blonde head with great ease, since she knew how to read the small nuances of his face and how they changed whenever his mood or thoughts did. Often, when she heard that, she had shaken her head in disgust, figuring that those people simply didn't know how to deal with him.

Seeing how well he shut her out by those two simple gestures, she could now understand the frustration that not knowing brought with it.

That feeling of exclusion was also strengthened by the news that he had just shared with her.

She had heard of such a thing happening when she was younger. A bond that went beyond comprehension between elves. A bond that was so deep that the two who had it would share either the strongest joy or the most shattering, soul-wrenching pain.

She was sort of surprised that it had occurred between Boromir and Legolas, since it was extremely rare among elves and she had never once heard of it happening between a human and an elf before. The other factor that had surprised her was that it had happened to the two guys that weren't going out. It was true that Lee and Boromir's friendship went beyond just them being friends, but that bond never manifested itself unless the two parties loved each other without any reservations at all.

So how could it have happened between them if they each were in love with another person? How did they end up building such a strong connection between them that they had managed to share such a painful experience as if they had been one?

She wanted to find out the answer, but she knew that it was no point in asking him or Lee. They wouldn't know. Nor could she run home and ask her mother. Not until all of what lay between her and Boromir was resolved.

"Which hospital is Lee in?" Boromir asked her, breaking into her thoughts with his quiet composed voice that had an edge of barely restrained hysteria to it.

Celebrian blinked. It had been at least five minutes since he had spoken and hearing him speak kind of took her aback.

"George VI. Why do you ask?"

Boromir raised his head and looked at her steadily, his eyes gleaming much more brightly than they had since she had entered the room.

"Because we're going to see him. That's why."

Notes: This is the 2^nd version. I posted the wrong one up and this one contains some notes left out in the original.

Placental Praevia: This happens when the placenta is damaged in some way and is torn from the uterus. If not treated, it can lead to death through bloodloss. In most cases, it can lead to miscarriage. Lee is an elf so, he gets lucky. Sort of.

In the west, we don't have maples, so maple sugar is like..heaven. It really is. Celebrian goes to school in the east (McGill is a university in Montreal) and they have all the good stuff. The west is jealous. Oh yes they are.

As always, thanks to all who are still reading.

Notes: I saw that on many reviews, a whole lot of you thought that the interlude was the end. Umm. No. It was just a note indicating that short piece was ended, not the story itself. That came about since I post the parts on two ML's before they come on FF.net. This story isn't going to end until everything gets solved, and it looks like it may not be until at least four parts more. I don't know. But WHEN the story is finished, you shall know for sure. I don't play dirty tricks like that. Not my style.

So enjoy this part and rest assured that the Clash will keep on going for a long time yet. And once again, I apologize for the delay, but between the government screwing me around for my loan money and essays and tests piled on to that, I really didn't have much time to devote to the story. I think that I am back on track though..but that depends on the two big essays I have due in November and December.

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Plot is mine only. Enough of the notes now. Enjoy the story.

Interlude-Just because

"I completely forgot dear
What our fears were all about
oh no, there's no need to be without."-Tea Party.

Aragorn sat up, letting the sheet fall to his waist as he did, leaving his
chest bare.

Normally, he would have covered up right away, but it seemed sort of pointless
to do so after what had happened between them.

He turned his head towards the faint light coming in through the old, greyish
blue curtains.

"Open the window, will you?" Faramir asked him.

"Why?" Faramir leaned over Aragorn and began to rummage around in the bedside
table instead of answering the question.

"isn't Galadriel going to know?" Aragorn asked when Faramir pulled out a
pre-rolled joint and a lighter from the messy drawer.

"Open the window and spray some air freshener and we'll be fine" Faramir
assured him as he stuck the joint in his mouth and coated it lightly with
saliva.

"Besides, we need to celebrate." Aragorn blushed.

"Fine" He replied as he got out of the bed and walked over to the window.

"I will remember this though." Aragorn told Faramir before he threw open the
drapes.

"Holy mother....Aragorn! What the fuck are you doing?" Faramir exclaimed as he
watched the utterly naked Aragorn calmly open the window with careful and
precise movements, not caring of the fact that he was flashing the entire
neighborhood by doing so.

"Opening the window." Aragorn replied before he finished his task.

"You did tell me to, after all." Aragorn replied as he casually sauntered over
to the bed and got in, ever so careful to arrange his long limbs i the most
wanton and appealing way as possible.

"Christ man." Faramir whispered as he took a long appreciative look at
Aragorn's pale skin, noting the light dusting of hair on is belly that led down
to a thick nest of dark brown hair and a dormant cock that he had had the
pleasure of just ten minutes ago.

He thought he was all but spent. After all, they had fucked like bunnies again
and again until Aragorn had ripped the pillow he had stuffed in his mouth to
keep from screaming out loud.

Aragorn didn't want to stop once he had gotten a taste of what it was like. He
had wanted very much to stay in bed the whole day and fuck until neither of
them could sit down.

It was nice. There was no way that he was going to deny it. But he also knew
that he wasn't going to do either him or himself any favours if they stayed at
home and tried to function in the microcosm that they had created that day.

School had called and Faramir was sort of thankful. They sinmply had no
choice but to stop and go to class. Even though they had missed two blocks
already, they would still have to go or face the wrath of Haldir and Elrond the
next time they went to class.

So they had to get ready to leave soon. After the joint was smoked of course.
Galadriel would drive them, so they'd be on time and things would be cool.

But now that temptation was being laid out for him on a platter, Faramir was
seriously wondering if the trouble that he would get into later would be worth
the lay that his mind was now totally focused on.

"So how bout it?" Aragorn asked, his voice sultry as he spoke.

Faramir response was to swallow. Hard.

"School." Faramir finally croaked out, jumping out of bed and depositing the
joint and lighter onto the dresser with one fluid motion.

"Positive?" Aragorn practically purred as Faramir struggled into a pair of
boxers and jeans.

Who knew that Aragorn would turn out to be both a sex maniac and a champion
seducer once the walls had been breached? Certainly not him.

"Yeah." He ran his hand through his hair before he looked at Aragorn.

"It's tempting. Don't get me wrong. But we have to go out there. Not just
because of school, but also cause we can't hide."

Aragorn sat up then, and looked at Faramir, his eyes dark with bitterness.

"You always have to be the voice of reason, don't you?"

Faramir closed his eyes and turned away from him. He was so cold all of the
sudden.

"I wasn't once and look what it got me. You weren't it either and look where we
stand. One of us at least should make the effort to be it."

Faramir said as he wrapped his arms around himself, his hands rubbing over the
scar tissue on his body as a means to stave away the cold.

He heard Aragorn get out of bed, but he wasn't going to move. Let him leave. He
was sure that things were just a break. He didn't care. He wasn't going to
break.

"Where do we stand then?" Aragorn whispered harshly as he wrapped his arms
aroudn the younger boy.

"I don't know." Faramir replied, curling up against the warm flesh.

"Somewhere?"

Aragorn laughed a soft, sharp laugh.

"It's a start, I guess."

End.

Part 17-Baby, can we still be friends?

"If there's a chance

I would take it this desire I can't kill

take my heart please don't break it

I will crawl to your foothill" The Tea Party.

Legolas was bored. Really bored. And he had only been lying in bed for about a day now.

He figured if he was so bored from just one day of inactivity, there was no way that he was going to be able to survive ten months of it.

There wasn't anything he could do about it though. Unless he wanted to play with the lives of his unborn children.

He had known that going through with the pregnancy was going to be a hard thing. He hadn't any illusions of it.

He was going to be a fairly poor kid struggling to raise two children that were going to be at best, shunned by both humans and elves. Exiles from both their heritages.

School would have to be put off for a while, unless he would consider giving them up.

Other people were pretty much hinting at that. Even though Dr. Gwydion was fairly nice, he had pretty much told Legolas to give up the children.

On one hand, he couldn't blame the doctor for thinking that, since by all accounts, being caught in a bar-fight while pregnant didn't make him look like the world's most responsible parent. But it still hurt to be told that he was utterly incompetent. After all, it was just a matter of strange circumstance that had landed him in the hospital in the first place. It wasn*t as if he hung around bars looking to get creamed.

He cared about the lives that were inside him. He would give up his life for them, but there was also the fact that he owed a lot to both his brother and the father of his children.

Growing up with them had made him fiercely loyal to the point that he would risk all to help them no matter what the personal cost to himself. There was no way in hell that he would just run.

Maybe that loyalty would be his undoing. The doctor seemed to think so, by the cold way that he had been treating him.

"You have to be more careful in the future, Mr. Mirkwood. If you want to have these children, you have got to think before you do something foolish that would endanger their health and yours."

Legolas had nodded. He couldn't speak. It was just too close to the way that the workers had treated him when he had been in the home. He knew that if he spoke, he would have just broken and told the doctor to go fuck himself and cause a hell of a lot more trouble than he wanted.

Besides, he was just too tired to really fight back. All the fight had gone out of him the minute that he had woken up. So he had just lain there, letting the doctor lecture him, not meeting Celebrethil's eyes, until he had finally run out of things to say and both he and the mid-wife had left.

The silence in the room had contributed to making him feel like crap, since it seemed to quietly echo the sense that he was nothing but a careless kid trying to play an adult role and failing miserably.

Legolas bit his lip and tried to keep his tears from falling at that thought. Curling up on his side, he then cradled his still flat abdomen. He knew that the children wouldn't understand this gesture of comfort, but it helped to ease his mind.

He couldn't imagine giving them up. Couldn't imagine living with the knowledge that he had children out there, somewhere and that he wasn't there to watch them grow up.

He buried his face in his arms as he imagined two little boys, both with blond hair and their father's and uncle's green eyes. The image was beautiful. But what shattered his composure and finally made him break down and start to cry, was the fear that he couldn't touch them. That he couldn't smooth away the golden silk of their hair, nor comfort them if they had gotten hurt.

"I'm not going to give them up!" he promised himself fiercely, the tears rolling down his cheek. "No matter what. I'm not giving them up!" He clenched his fists in defiance. "No matter how hard it is. I won't"

His hands uncurled when he spoke the last words, feeling utterly worn. Whimpering softly, Legolas let his hand fall onto the bed. He was too tired for all of this. Emotionally and mentally, he was exhausted and in desperate need to close his eyes and drift off even if it was for just a minute.

Sighing, he snuggled deeper into the cheap hospital blankets and had just closed his eyes when the door to his room opened. Even though it was done quietly, it was enough to make him open his eyes to see who it was.

"You playing dead or something?" A sarcastic voice asked the second he had opened his eyes. Only one person would ask that question, no matter what the circumstances. Only one person.

Legolas' head shot up at the sound of that voice. A voice he hadn't expected to hear for a while yet.

"Thought not." Boromir commented, the sarcasm gone from his tone when he spoke again.

His face had broken into a smile that belied the harsh words he had just spoken. Legolas didn't mind though. That was just the way Boromir acted sometimes. He could never really predict how the human's mind worked, so he had learned to just go with the flow and wait. Usually, Boromir had a nice and insanely logical reason for everything that he did. It was...odd, to say the least.

"What are you doing here?" Legolas asked as he propped himself up on his elbows.

Boromir shrugged and wheeled himself closer to the bed. Although he was playing it cool, or trying to, at least, Legolas could sense that Boromir was wound tighter than a grandfather clock. His eyes were dark and his face was still ashen, making Legolas immediately reach out and console his friend.

"Boromir?" he asked.

Something was wrong. Boromir didn't go all quiet unless something was not cool.

"How bad was it?"

Legolas blinked at the question. "What?"

Boromir raised his head and looked straight at Lee, his eyes shimmering darkly as he spoke. "I felt everything. So how bad was it?"

~*~*~*~*~*~

Eomer walked down the hallways of St. Ig's a worried frown on his face as he did. Occasionally, he would peek into a classroom in hopes of seeing his sister. But so far, no such luck. It was as if she had suddenly disappeared, something he knew wasn't possible, since he had driven her to school after Theoden had given him a charley horse and told him to fuck off. Eowyn was looking a bit sick and he didn't want her walking to school. She had had a serious bout of bronchitis two years ago and Eomer was always worried that she would have a relapse whenever she got sick.

He knew that he was just being irrational when he got worried about her, but the fear that she too would be taken from him like his parents over-rode any rational thoughts he had about his sister. He loved her deeply and if she died, he knew that he would be nothing more than a shadow without her.

So he kept on looking for her until it was time to go to class. Mr. Fujiyama and maths weren't his idea of paradise, but he had to go to class or risk getting his balls served to him on a platter and a week-long detention. Fujiyama wasn't as bad as Mr. Yuy, but every student knew well enough not to fuck with either of them.

Oh well. At least it was only an hour block due to the shortened timetable. Shrugging, he shouldered his backpack and went inside classroom 213. Picking his way carefully over the old desks, Eomer then flopped into the second last row in the far corner and looked around the class. For some reason, he liked to watch people as they entered the class. It sort of gave him a curious feeling of being with them, but somehow outside of their little circle. He guessed he felt that way because he wasn't like his classmates at all.

Most of the students in the math course where the ones that had their noses stuck in books and their heads filled with the lists of Universities that they would apply for the minute they wrote the departmentals. They worked hard at every single course in the school and just sucked the joy out of everything because of that drive. They didn't pick a subject because they found it interesting or enjoyed it. They just did it because it would look good on their transcripts and get their foot in the door.

Eomer shook his head and began pulling out his textbook and battered binder out of his backpack. He honestly couldn't understand that. For him, math was something that was totally fascinating and ordered. He got a sense of satisfaction whenever he worked hard to figure out the Algebra and Calculus that Fujiyama taught them and got the answer right. He loved the complexity of numbers and even though he would never admit it to anyone, he loved the rules that governed the concepts. At least they were a solid rock in his landscape and never seemed to shift, unlike the rest of his life.

He liked that. The permanence of the rules of mathematics and the like. It was almost a zen exercise for him to do his work. He figured that if he didn't have that time for self-reflection, he'd probably go off the deep end or just end up sitting on the couch with his sister trying to dull the reality with a thick layer of marijuana. Hockey, though, stopped him from doing drugs. He wouldn't do anything to fuck up the only chance he had at getting out and making something out of himself. So he strongly relied on schoolwork and the occasional casual lay with a nameless girl he would pick up after a game to keep him from going off the deep end.

"Open your books to page 256." His mind snapped out of its reverie when he heard the flat, nasal voice of Mr. Fuyijama. Flipping the textbook to the required page, he looked up at the red-haired teacher and waited for the lecture to begin.

"We are going to be looking at how to calculate the area of a parabola today, so pay extra attention.. Or the test will kill you."

A few sycophants, mostly girls, tittered at the comment. Eomer didn't dare crack a smile, since Fuyijama's eyes had this weird gleam to them making him wonder whether the teacher would gladly do what he promised the exam would do. He was a hard task-master and was never pleased with a half-assed effort.

"Now. 'ere*s the way you do it. You take x.." Eomer's attention was so riveted on Fuyijama that he didn*t notice when Danny Rivendell had managed to sneak into the seat next to his until he received a charley horse.

It was all he could do not to cry out. He turned and glared at the elf as he rubbed his arm. Danny put a finger to his lips and scribbled something in his book, and then quickly showed it to Eomer the second that Fuyijama had turned his back to the class.

"I gotta talk to you after class. It's about your sister."

Eomer nodded, then turned his attention back to the teacher.

Although he was playing it cool, his insides felt like they had just churned themselves into knots. Something had happened to his sister. Something bad.

He bit his lip as another feeling followed the anxiousness that was now sitting at the pit of his stomach. A feeling that he didn't want to experience, but he had no choice in that.

The feeling that he had failed his sister.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"She'll be fine, Max." Nurse Diamond assured the elf that was hovering anxiously over the now sleeping Eowyn.

Logically, he knew that she was going to be okay. After all, they had gotten to her before Theoden had done any permanent damage to her, but he still felt oddly compelled to stay with her until he knew that she was for sure going to be okay.

"You really should go to class now." Nurse Diamond told him once again as she sat down at her desk and began to fill out forms.

Max nodded, knowing that he was being ordered to leave more than anything else.

"Thanks," he said to the nurse before he gathered his backpack and left the office. He didn*t look back at the sleeping human girl because he knew that he would just stand there until the nurse pushed him out physically.

"You*re welcome. See you later, Elrohir."

Max winced. He really hated it when people called him by his birth name.

He actually hated that name. It had been his creepy uncle's name. The one that according to his dad, had died when he was out in British Columbia. He didn't ask any more questions cause he was actually relieved that the old weirdo was gone. He had always creeped him out and had made him cry when he was a kid. He was just that mean.

Shrugging his shoulders, he then looked up at the clock in the hallway. Shit. He had missed Elrond's class. Great. And everyone was going to be out in a couple of minutes, which meant that the 2^nd floor was going to be all clogged and shit and he wouldn't get to Danny and Eomer until lunch.

Sighing heavily, he then made his way up to Fujiyama's class. He would have to endure the maths teacher's glares as he waited for his brother and Eomer, which was something that he would have gladly avoided at any other time. Fujiyama's glares, although not as lethal as Yuy's, were still very unpleasant things to be the recipient of. That guy seemed to have a stick permanently stuck up his arse.

He was positive that if Mr. Fujiyama tried to smile, his handsome face would crack. He was sure that the only times he had ever seen something resembling an expression of warmth on his face was when that girl whom everyone said was his younger sister came to visit him and when Haldir was in the hallway or on supervision duty with him.

Even though Danny always defended the serious man, saying that it was just his upbringing. Max said that he was just a repressed homosexual with a big crush on Mr. Haldir and that they should just fuck each other in the broom closet so that they would stop being so bitchy with everyone. That was also his theory about Haldir. Elrond, he strongly suspected, just had a hard-on for Ms. Luthien and she over him.

"You're just a big hornball," Danny had told him once when he had explained his theory to his brother and the Usual Suspects over lunch one day.

"No, I'm not!" he had protested sharply.

"It's not my fault that I notice things like that! Besides, it's kind of hard not to notice when said people are always drooling over each other when they are in the hallways or on cafeteria duty or something! I swear, once me and Boromir nearly slipped in the puddle of drool under Fujiyama's mouth when he was talking to Haldir!"

The others thought that there was merit in his story. Danny had just thwapped him on the head and told him to keep his little theories to himself and to lay off the wacky weed for awhile.

He had laid off telling people his theory, but he still was strongly betting that a good fuck had by all would cure most of the ills in the teacher's lives.

"Hell, it would cure the ills in my life." he muttered as he arranged his gangly limbs against the row of lockers and waited for class to be dismissed.

Danny was always teasing him that his lack of a sex life was the reason why he was so fixated on the idea of Haldir and Fujiyama getting it on. He didn't think so. Sure, he thought about sex and chicks. Who didn't at that age? But it wasn't something that he was always occupied with. He was more content to not have the pressures he saw his friends and siblings dealing with. Love was a complication that didn't have a high enough dividend for him to actually want to take the plunge into. Besides, he had yet to meet anyone that he would have wanted to have sex with.

He sighed and looked up at the clock. The bell rang a few seconds later, making him smirk at the fact that the he didn't have to wait a long time for Danny and Eomer. He had just greeted his brother when Eomer spoke up.

"So what do you have to tell me?" he asked, his voice a loud whisper that was lost in the throngs of students that were now rushing past them.

Danny looked around the hallway before he turned to the human beside him.

"It's too open here. Let' go to the stage and I'll tell you there," Danny replied tersely before he turned to the left and headed towards the stage-room, where the school productions and masses were held.

Eomer frowned at this, but only followed the elf. Although he wasn't in the mood to be led around all over the school, he endured the running around for only the sake of his sister. For her, he*d gladly do anything, even if it was detrimental to himself.

They arrived at the stage room a few minutes later, and found the room empty, which was a relief to both Danny and Max. Eomer was just glad that they had reached the destination and would finally get the news about his sister.

"Well?" he asked a few minutes later after they had found a suitably private spot and settled down comfortably.

Danny and Max exchanged a small glance before Danny spoke to the human.

"Okay. Well...what happened was that when we came to school today, we found Theoden beating the crap out of Eowyn. We told him to piss off and took Eowyn to the nurses office," Danny told him flatly.

Eomer blinked at this matter of fact information. Theoden hit Eowyn? Theoden hit Eowyn?

He licked his dry lips and rolled the thought over and over and over in his mind as he tried to reconcile the facts together. It was true that Theoden was a violent prick, but he had never stooped low enough to actually strike a girl. Theoden had always prided himself on his control over that aspect of his violence, so to hear that his cousin had lost it was an alien concept for him to grasp.

His first impulse then was to say "You're lying." and storm off to find the real truth. But he knew that elves never lied about anything. It just wasn't in their nature to do so. Plus, he had also known the twins for practically forever, so there was no reason to doubt them.

The only thing that he needed to know was the "why?" of the situation.

"I - I - I - I don't understand why he'd do that." Eomer whispered. "Eowyn is harmless. Ever since she stopped hanging around with Arwen, she's changed. She�there's no reason. No reason," he repeated before his voice trailed off into silence.

Max's fists clenched involuntarily as he flashbacked to that morning. It was true, there didn't seem to be a reason. But Theoden didn't seem to care. He was like a man possessed. Like he would stop at nothing to obtain his objective.

"Well, if there was no reason, then Theoden firmly believed that there was one. He kept asking Eowyn if she had heard anything before he slammrd her head into the locker."

Eomer winced.

"You know anything about this at all?" Max asked, wondering if he could get any useful information on Theoden's behaviour before he went out to wrench his arms from his sockets.

Eomer shook his head. "I don't pry at all. He lives his life, we live ours. We try to avoid each other as much as possible. We just don't get along."

Max and Danny looked at each other again. So there was trouble in paradise. Who knew?

As far as everyone on their block knew, they were as good a family as they possibly could be, considering the circumstances that had brought them together in the first place. Even thought it was an ambiguous statement, it was loaded with implications that were too hard for them not to miss.

"Okay. Well, maybe when Eowyn wakes up we'll be able to find something out."

"Wakes up? Did he beat her up that bad?" Eomer asked worriedly.

"Sort of. She's sick, man. Getting her head slammed in a locker probably didn't help her much either. Considering that she puked right after the whole debacle."

Eomer nodded as he wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. This just didn't sound good. If Theoden was on the warpath, he would certainly not take too kindly to being dissuaded from his goal. In fact, the delay would probably make him even more determined than ever to obtain his goal.

Which meant that he would do anything possible to see it done. Theoden was that ruthless and that determined.

He and Eowyn would be so-o-o screwed when they got home after school today.

He rubbed his palms over his jeans again. He had to come up with a plan and fast before school was out. But what?

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Legolas looked at Boromir for a long time, studying the planes of his face carefully as he gathered the words he wanted to say. Boromir's words had quite literally derailed his train of thought with severe casualties.

How could have Boromir felt his pain? How did that come about?

As far as he knew, there was simply no way for that to ever happen across the races. He believed that two elves could develop that bond since he had seen it happen numerous times in his life. But every time he had been aware of that bond, the carriers had always been two elves. Never had it been and elf and a man, or hobbit, sprite or anything else. The bond was exclusive and that was that.

"How?" he finally managed to choke out. It wasn't as eloquent as he had hoped, but it was a start.

"I was kind of hoping you'd tell me that." Boromir admitted. "Celebrian really didn't explain it much either when I asked her."

Legolas nodded. Of course she wasn't able to give him an explanation! How could she? Things like this just didn't happen!

"She just said it appeared. Nothing more, nothing less."

Legolas ran a hand through his hair as he wracked his brains for an explanation even though he knew that there wasn't really one to be had.

"That's all I know too," the elf finally admitted. "I have been told about the bonds, but no one has explained it. It appears in elves that just seemed to�well�belong together."

Boromir's eyebrows raised at this answer.

"Well then. What does that say about us?" he asked, his voice low and careful. "I mean�well, don't you still have feelings for my brother? And well, there's Aragorn too. Him and I, we love each other and we're still together, but if we have this kind of bond that makes us be so close to each other, what does it mean? That even though we have feelings for these other people, we are tied together? That ultimately, our fates are intertwined?"

Legolas blinked at the barrage of questions. He was overwhelmed by them, but he also had a duty to answer them. Boromir had made several valid points that needed to be addressed right then and there.

"Would it be a terrible thing for that to be the case?" Legolas asked in return.

Was Boromir too going to leave now as well?

Boromir's eyes widened at the question.

"That wasn't my meaning, Legolas. Forgive me if it sounded as if I am dreading the possibility of it ever happening. I assure you that wasn't my intention at all. It's just that well, I don't want for things to fall apart even more than they already have. I have been the cause of too many problems already. I just want to fix everything without any more problems. We have enough of those to deal with already without adding on to them."

He bit his lip before he continued.

"I mean, you guys are my family. I promised myself that I wouldn't hurt you ever. That I would protect you at all costs. And I am doing the opposite of what I promised to do. And I have to stop it. None of you deserve to be hurt because of me. And I want to make it right."

Legolas looked out the window before he gave any answer. What was he supposed to say? It was all a mess. There was no way of cleaning it all up without hurting anyone. It was all too messy and too raw for it to be otherwise. Even though the sentiment was a great one, there had to be that period of pain in order for every one to move on.

"I understand that you wanted to protect us. I do, but Boromir, this isn't about protecting anyone anymore. It's about us. About our relationships with each other."

Legolas turned his gaze back to Boromir's face.

"Boromir, you are a great person. You really are. You care about people too much. Even though some people might think it a bad thing, that is what's so great about you. You care so much, but you also forget to give people room to fail, which isn't that good. It isn't a criticism of you, but it's just something that you have to watch out for when you deal with people. I think that is the reason why Aragorn felt the way he did. No one likes to be thought of as weak."

"But I didn't think he was weak. I just didn't want for him to get hurt or feel bad."

Legolas nodded.

"I know. I know that it wasn't your intention to hurt him. But the thing is that *you* made the decision for him, Boromir. You never asked him if that is what *he* wanted in the first place. You just assumed it and he still got hurt. I know that Aragorn may seem as if he is fragile, but he has survived. In his own way, he is as strong as you."

"But I didn't give him the chance to prove it, did I?" Boromir asked, his voice hollow as he spoke.

"I*m afraid that, yeah, you didn't give him that choice," Legolas replied softly as he reached out and took a hold of Boromir's hand which trembled slightly, a telling sign of the deep turmoil that the human was feeling.

"I am such an idiot," Boromir whispered. "Such an idiot."

Legolas didn't reply right away. He just kept his gaze focused on the hand that he was caressing. He didn't feel it was the right time to say anything, since there wasn't really anything comforting for him to say to that naked fact.

"I...I was only wanting to make it easier for him." Boromir said before a tear slowly slid down his face. "That*s all."

"I know. I know." Legolas replied, squeezing his hand.

"If you know this, can you accept it? Can you still want to share the bond that we have between us? Or am I just bound to fuck everything up like I did with Aragorn?"

Legolas blinked at the questions. Boromir...was he serious?

"You...you have thought about this carefully, Boromir?" Legolas asked him, his voice soft as he spoke. "It's not that I am doubting you in any way, it's just that, well, What about Aragorn?"

Silence followed that tentative question. A silence that lasted for what seemed a century before Boromir finally broke it.

"I am going to talk to him about this. About everything. But I strongly believe that it is all just over between the two of us. I have proven to be what he doesn't *need* in his life at this point. You are right in that I care too much. It's true. I care too much for him and because of that, I wouldn't be doing him any favours by trying to keep him from making his own mistakes and falling when he has to fall."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Aragorn walked down the hallway to Legolas' room, in his hand a bouquet of roses to cheer his brother up.

He hadn't gone to class at all that day. Faramir had gone because he hadn't the choice. Aragorn had just made up an excuse and gotten clearance to namely sleep in. He had reflected on the events of the past few days until he had come to a decision about what exactly his plan of action was going to be.

The only thing left now was to actually get up the courage to follow through with the decision that he had made.

"Soon," he promised himself as he got closer to Legolas room. "Very soon."

As he reached the room, he decided to put those thoughts at the back of his mind. His main concern right now was to make sure Lee was doing fine and to maybe cheer him up a little, since hospitals weren't exactly fountains of amusement.

He knocked on the door and waited until he heard Lee's voice telling him to come in.

Smiling slightly to himself, he pushed the door open and stepped in to find Boromir sitting next to Legolas' bedside.

Both of their faces were tear stained and they were both holding onto each other so tightly that one would think they were afraid that they were going to lose each other if they didn't grab a hold of each other.

"Estel," they both breathed out in surprise when they saw him. But their hands remain in the same place.

Aragorn only looks at them.

He didn't feel angry. He didn't feel sad, his only thought is "It's time."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Are you CRAZY?!" Faramir yells at Danny and Max the moment they have finished telling him their great idea.

They were standing in front of St. Iggy's and he was hopping from foot to foot in an effort to keep warm as he waited for Celebrian to come and get him.

"I know. I know. It sounds pretty wacky, but we wouldn't be asking you this if we could find another way."

Max defended himself and his brother quickly.

"Come on, Mir. It's for a good cause," Danny piped in, putting on the charm.

Faramir frowned as he looked over at Eomer and Eowyn, who were sitting just a little ways away from them, the "good cause" that the Rivendell twins were championing to him.

He had arrived at school at nine o'clock, courtesy of Celeborn. He personally didn't really want to be there, since he was hurting from both the beating and the hangover he had gotten from the night before. He would have much rather stayed at home, in his bed, with Aragorn lying beside him.

But Celeborn had other ideas and had made him go to school. He would have skipped out behind his father's back if it hadn't been for the warning that Celebrian was going to come to school to pick up assignments for Lee, Boromir and Aragorn. She would have to talk to teachers to do this, so there was no way in hell he would get away with skipping out. So he went to class and sat like a zombie and prayed that Elrond, Haldir or any of the other teachers wouldn't ask him questions that were too hard.

He was lucky when no one really paid much attention to him until hometime. That was when Danny and Max, with a glassy-eyed Eowyn and twitchy Eomer in tow, ambushed him and begged for him to allow the Rohans to stay in his house for a couple of days until they got the mess with Theoden cleared up.

They had told him what had happened in the morning and he had been utterly disgusted. Even though Eowyn and Eomer hadn't been the greatest people when they had first met, they had mellowed out quite a bit, and to hear that Theoden had beaten up his own cousin was enough to piss him off big time. Sure, they weren't his all time favourite people, but Eowyn didn't deserve what had happened to her and Eomer shouldn't have had to look like a hunted animal because of that.

He would have said "sure" right away if things hadn't been so weird at his house. After all, when he was younger, there hadn't been a night when either Yohji, Duo or Thom or all three had been sleeping in their living room. But now that the Chibis where there and Celebrian, Aragorn and his parents were all stressed out, he didn't know if he could say it was fine only to have his word overruled.

"Well?" Max asked impatiently. "We kind of have to know before we go home, Mir."

Faramir had just opened his mouth to reply when a battered grey car with a huge blue daisy painted on the hood and with Black Flag blaring from the speakers appeared in front of them. The music turned off and Celebrian came out of the car, wearing a black woolen coat and a violent green tuque on her head that would have been an eyesore on anyone else, but looked perfect on her.

"Get in the car. I won't be long in there, okay?" she told him as she came up to him and gave him a friendly punch on the arm.

"Hey, Celly?" Faramir asked before she disappeared inside the school.

"What?" she asked him, her grey eyes full of concern for him.

"I need a favour." he told her. Celly nodded.

"See those two over there?" he asked her quietly. Celebrian nodded.

"The girl got beat up by her cousin and the guy's her brother and they need a place to stay for a bit. Do you think you can...like�cover for me in case mom and dad get mad? I mean, I normally wouldn't ask, but..." he trailed off and shrugged when he couldn't find the words he needed to explain why he was taking the chance to offer Eomer and Eowyn shelter.

"They close friends?" Celly asked as she looked at the girl and the guy again. The girl looked like she had just been slammed around and had the bruises to show it. The guy was hovering over the girl and despite his protective stance, the look of sheer hopelessness gave away the fact that he really couldn't do anything to protect her at all.

"Well...ehm...sort of. Eomer used to not like us, but he mellowed out a lot. Eowyn is pretty cool now."

Celebrian nodded as she received the information.

It was true that they had often had many people crash at their house because of problems and unexpected events. Her parents had never turned anyone away and had in their own way, encouraged people to show up in their homes. She didn't see why this situation would be any different, except for the fact that these two weren't exactly close friends of Faramir's and couldn't be as easily trusted as other people were in the past. But looking them over, she highly doubted that any problems would arise. They looked as if they would fall asleep on their feet before they would actually cause mischief at all.

"Look, just get them in the car. Mother and Father won't throw them out once you explained things to them. If they need help that badly then I'm sure that something can be worked out, okay? Now let me go in and get the work and we'll go, okay?"

Faramir nodded and turned to Max and Danny, who were grinning at him from ear to ear.

Damn them and their superior elven hearing!

"Shut up and help Eowyn in the car, will ya?" Faramir told them crossly as he went to open the car while Celebrian laughed softly before she plowed into the school.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Estel? What are you doing here?" Legolas asked as he slowly pulled his hands from Boromir's own and shifted around on his bed to get into a more comfortable position.

"Visiting. I wanted to make sure you were fine after last night," Aragorn replied tersely as he came forward and placed the flowers on Lee's lap.

"I see you are fine and well, so I shall just go home now. Good-bye." He turned to leave, but was stopped by a hand grabbing at his sleeve.

"Estel...wait."

He looked down and found Boromir's green eyes looking up at him.

"Wait for what, Boromir?" Aragorn asked, his words measured and careful as he spoke.

Boromir licked his lips before he spoke. "We need to talk."

Aragorn, despite his earlier resolution, felt as if his heart had sunk to the pit of his stomach. It was true that he had made up his mind to search Boromir out to talk to him, but when the moment finally came, it seemed like he really wasn't sure whether he'd be able to face up to the challenge of actually going through with it.

"Fine. Let's talk then."

But it seemed that his mouth had no reservations for making the decision for him.

He and Boromir were going to talk.

Interlude: Stuck in a Moment You Can't Get Out Of.

"Come as you are, as you were,

As I want you to be

As a friend, as a friend, as an old enemy

Take your time, hurry up

The choice is yours, don't be late

Take a rest as a friend as an old memoria"- Nirvana

Legolas watched Boromir and Aragorn exit the room with a mixture of apprehension and despair.

On one hand he was glad that the two of them where finally going to talk to each other. After all, things had been screwed up and assumptions had arisen because of the lack of communication.

"Finally, things will get cleared up," he muttered as he scratched at the tape that held the IV in place.

He was glad, he could totally admit that. He was happy that everything was going to be sorted out and hopefully, by then, things would get back to normal within their little group.

"And if things work out, where does that leave *you*?" a small, nasty voice asked in his mind.

"Shut up" Legolas whispered as he laid down and stared at the ceiling of his crappy hospital room.

"Why? You know that I am right in asking that,." his mind taunted him, making him growl in frustration.

"I said shut up!" Legolas hissed back before he rolled over onto his left side, careful not to tangle himself up in the IV lines.

He knew that he should be totally honest with himself and admit that, yeah, he was worried about the outcome of the conversation. After all, if Boromir and Aragorn did work out all the snarled loops of their relationship, he would be left out in the cold.

"Just like Mir. Maybe you can try again." The thought made a growl rise in Lee's throat. His inner voice could be a fucken bastard sometimes. Christ on a fucken skateboard!

The truth was, he did miss the younger man. After all, he had truly loved him. But his reaction to being a father had really cut him deeply. And when Boromir had stepped into the breach, he had to admit that he was glad that it had happened.

Even though he may have thought that it was wrong and that they were nothing but a couple of sneaks for doing that, it just felt right. For as long as he could recall, he and Boromir had always just been that way with each other. If things went bad, they had always banded together to face all the obstacles that life had thrown in front of them.

"Admit it. He is the only one that you want and you're going to be alone if he goes back to Estel."

Legolas nearly growled again as he rolled over to his right side. He was seriously getting pissed off at the little voice in his head. Not only was it a crappy time for it to perk up and start pointing out all of his fears, it was also being obnoxiously smug about the whole thing.

"Truth hurts don't it? Especially after you have been hiding from it for five years." Lee closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" he hissed as he fought to keep the tears from spilling over, pulling the blankets over his head. "Leave me alone." Even though he knew it was nothing more than a childish gesture that wouldn't solve anything, it still was comforting to do that. To grasp the small bit of a childish security he hadn't really had time to fully enjoy.

But that only lasted for a couple of minutes. Even if he was hiding from his pissy mental voice, he wasn't willing to suffocate himself with the chemical stench coming from the rough bed-clothes. Besides, there had to be better ways to die, he groused as he ran a hand through his hair and winced when his fingers met a nasty tangle.

"Fuck you." He was pissed at fate now, he decided. He really was, he decided as he glared at the ceiling above him.

"Fuck you too, Keebler elf."

Lee's eyes widened at that. No one had called him that ever since his days at St. Vic's. So that meant that�. He turned his head and made the effort to actually sit up in bed when he saw who it was standing in the doorway.

Duo, Trowa, Yohji, Ken and Thom Yorke stood in the doorway, all of them smirking as they looked at him. Between them, they held the biggest bouquet of white and yellow roses he had ever seen in his entire life, the entire thing held together by a wide yellow ribbon.

Seeing that huge bouquet and the amused looks on their faces only made him laugh softly. Only those guys would do something like that, he mused as he recalled the big red and white bouquet that they had gotten together for Boromir once he had woken up from his coma.

Flashback

"You really make a guy feel loved." Lee recalled Boromir saying, his face a deep pink after Yohji had given him a chaste kiss on the lips and had presented the flowers to him.

Yohji had laughed and ruffled his hair affectionately before sitting down on the edge of the bed and giving him what looked like a bone-crushing hug. "Only the best for you, babe! Only the best!" Yohji had drawled before he nuzzled his face into his hair, making Boromir's face turn a bright red at this.

End Flashback

"Back at you, mutherfucker," he replied cheerfully, glad to have someone else in the room to talk to apart from the psycho voice in his fucken head.

"How you doing, Blondie?" Thom asked as they entered into the room and surrounded the bed.

"Okay, I guess. How bout you, you fucken psycho?" Lee asked as Ken and Yohji put the bouquet in his lap and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before they sat down on the foot of the bed.

"Just got out of juvie. The charges got dropped. I'm a free man," Thom replied cheerfully, his black eyes sparkling with the not quite sane humour he possessed.

"What are you going to do?" Lee asked as he scratched at the tape on his arm.

"Get cleaned up. Visit my old man in jail. Get a job. I don't know yet," Thom replied as he tugged on his violently red hair, which for some reason was cut very short but with spiky long bangs framing his pale face, reminding Lee briefly of the Japanese math teacher at St. Ig's.

"Cool. And you guys? Where have you been hiding?" Lee asked the other guys in the room.

"University. I swear I have no time to do anything but to sleep, study, practice and play." Ken replied, his brown eyes twinkling, telling Lee that even though he had so many deadlines to face, he was till enjoying the challenge of being in post-secondary.

"School as always. Boinking like rabbits. The usual," Duo replied blithely, earning him a good smack on the head from Trowa that was so loud, everyone in the room winced in sympathy.

"I so wanted that image in my head, thanks Duo." Yohji shot back disgustedly.

"Oh shut up, Kudoh, and come out of the goddamned closet already. The church isn't a small place, but we can sure hear everything that happens between you and Kenken, you know."

Lee's eyes widened at this bit of news. Kenken and Yohji? Together?

Turboslut and Soccer-hooligan (to use Thom's caustic terms of endearment for them) Together? Did something happen when he was sleeping and he simply missed this little development?

"When did this happen?" Lee asked after a few seconds of embarrassed silence.

Yohji turned bright red and just pushed his omnipresent sunglasses up his nose while Ken kept his eyes trained on the sheets. O-okay�it looked like he wasn't going to get any answer from that place.

The silence was then broken by yet another loud smack to Duo's head by Trowa.

"Subtlety, thy name is certainly not Duo Maxwell." Thom commented after Duo had stopped yelping about getting whacked on the head again.

Thom looked at everyone in the room and shook his head at them. Even though he was the resident nutbar that always had had to be bailed out of every single mess that he got himself into, the way things were going, he was certainly feeling as if he was the only voice of reason left in the room.

"I was going to say that I needed to take a piss or get something to drink to leave the hooligan and Keebler elf alone, but we all know that it's a pile of horseshit. So why don't we all pretend that's what we're going to do and leave them to muddle out the blunder of the century."

Lee nearly smirked at that little aside of Thom's. That guy couldn't find the way out of a euphemism even if someone paid him. It was funny, in a sick sort of way. In what kind of way, Lee himself wasn't so sure, since he was still trying to figure out whether Thom was just a product of his environment or if he really was crazier than a shit-house rat.

"We'll be at the front of the hospital, not smoking at all," Thom continued sarcastically as he pulled Yohji to his feet and ushered a scowling Trowa and Duo out of the room.

"Sorry that it was such a short visit, Lee." Yohji apologized as he was pulled out of the room by Thom.

Lee smiled wryly. "It doesn't matter. I'm glad that you guys showed up. Thanks for the flowers though."

Yohji smiled before he was unceremoniously yanked out of the room. The door then clicked shut, leaving Ken and Lee looking at each other nervously.

"So�" Ken began nervously, running his hand through his messy brown hair in nervousness.

"Take your time, Ken, I'm not going to strangle you." Lee replied dryly as he shifted slightly. "I--just--well, to tell you the truth, I'm just really surprised. I mean you and Yohji?"

Ken smiled sheepishly at Legolas. "Yeah, I know huh?"

"How?" Lee replied, still trying to get used to the idea of Kenken doing the deerskin shuffle with Yohji! In a freaking Church orphanage too!

Ken's lips pursed as he tried to articulate the reason why things had turned out the way that they had. Hell, even he wasn't sure exactly how things had progressed. He just knew that one day, Yohji had changed. He couldn't pinpoint the exact day, but one day he was the obnoxious, loud, pervy brother that you couldn't help but to like, and then, the next thing he knew they were kissing like crazy on his bed amongst piles of scattered textbooks.

"I don't know." Ken answered, finally giving up trying to explain anything. "Does it seem that odd, for him and I to be together?"

Lee shook his head, not daring to speak, since his mind was in a whirl as he tried to reconcile all the emotions that were plaguing him.

He always believed in being brutally honest with himself and even though it was a very painful policy to follow at times, he felt that it was better that way in the long run. He would much rather have the pain of knowing exactly what was what, than the pain of having told a lie and live with the fall-out.

He wasn't angry that Ken had found someone else. That wasn't it at all.

"Sort of," Lee replied, as he tried to run away from the truth that was yowling like a cat in heat on a doorstep.

"Why?"

Lee looked into Ken's big brown eyes and bit his lip. "You are certainly flattering yourself if you thought that he was going to always pine after you," his mind hissed at him.

"I thought I was the only one you ever loved." Lee blurted out.

Ken's eyes widened and Lee groaned when he realized exactly what he had said. "Forget that! Forget that!" Lee yelled out as he hid his face from Ken. "I didn't say anything."

Ken only blinked at the strange behaviour of the elf. Never had he seen him so...wacky. Usually, the elf was sarcastic, funny and very dignified. He assumed it was something they were all born with, just like the rapid healing ability and the physical grace he had often envied when they had been younger and residing together in St. Joachim's Orphanage.

Lee had taken Ken's silence as acceptance and was now daring to peek over his hands at his former playmate and boyfriend. To his surprise, he saw that Ken had a very pensive look on his face.

"Ken?" Lee asked, wondering if getting the human's attention was a good idea after he had made himself a total fool in front of him.

"Lee," Ken replied as he turned to look at the elf, his chocolate brown eyes, so like his own that Lee was sort of startled at seeing them outside the mirror.

"Yeah?" Legolas asked, feeling like a complete idiot at not knowing exactly where this conversation was heading.

"I did love you. Very much," Ken told him, his voice low. "I think that day we broke up was the crappiest day of my life. It was up there with the day my father dropped me off at the orphanage."

He made a face when he mentioned that. It had been about ten years ago that his father had done that, but it still hurt. He figured that the pain would never fully go away, despite the fact that it had been the best course of action at the time. "But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense for us to break up."

Legolas' frowned at this statement. "Why do you say that?" the elf asked, clearly puzzled by Ken's remark.

"I say that because the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. No matter how much time we did or didn't spend together, or how much you told me you loved me, I knew that I wasn't the one that you were in *love* with."

Legolas opened his mouth to object, but Ken stopped him with a raised hand. "No. Hear me out. You were never in love with me. I think, at the most, you loved me as your brother. The only one that has ever had that privilege, it seems, is Boromir Denethorsen. Him and no one else."

Ken looked up at the ceiling then, since he knew that he wasn't strong enough to look at Lee head on when he said the next bit. "I felt it when we made love. Even though your body responded, your soul just *wasn't* there. It was...frustrating to try and touch someone that deeply and not be able to get that emotion in return. You were never really alive unless he was around. Both of you were the same. Neither of you really existed in this world unless you were together." He shook his head and looked at the elf, his eyes bright with the tears he was trying hard to keep at bay.

Lee's stared down at his hands lying in his lap. He honestly didn't know what to say to what Ken was telling him. He honestly didn't. But it turned out he didn't have to say anything yet, since Ken began to talk again.

"I thought that you guys would die without each other. That you needed each other to survive. I changed my mind though, when I saw him and Aragorn Strider together."

"When? Why?" Lee asked.

"At a coffee-shop by the University a while back. I was there with some friends when they came in. And I was wary at first. I studied them, wondering what had made Satan thaw out so much that he was dating someone that wasn't you. But the more I watched them, the more I understood."

Legolas swallowed hard. He had a feeling he wasn't really going to like what was going to come next.

"They need to be together. Plain and simple. They are equal in both their strength and the way that they care for each other. They can meet each other on a level playing field rather than depend on each other so much that they will lose themselves. I think I was so surprised the first time I saw them together because Boromir looked alive. Wholly alive. And he wasn't with you."

Lee's mouth tightened into a thin line at those words. It was true that he had told Aragorn that he loved Boromir in a different way than he ever would, but it still hurt him deeply to hear that simple comment being directed at him. There were a couple of moments of silence between them before Legolas himself broke it.

"Why did you tell me all of this?" he asked Ken, who was tracing the patterns in the blanket lying on the bed.

"I told you because you need to let him go," Ken replied calmly, his voice steady as he spoke.

End Interlude




//thoughts

*emphasis

Part 18: Heaven Coming Down

"I managed to be a jerk anyway,

it doesn't have to be this way

Forget about the things I said

I make no excuse for them.

I want to start again." Bouncing Souls

Aragorn looked at him for several moments, his mind in a state of limbo over what Boromir had just said. He had wanted this. Even though he knew it would be a painful thing to face, he had wanted it. Now that he had it, he wasn't sure if he had the strength to go through with it.

So instead, he just submerged his emotions and studied Boromir. He hadn't been able to actually look closely at the man in a long time and he would take advantage of the opportunity.

Boromir's face was pale, with a slight grey cast to his skin made even more noticeable by his vivid green eyes. His hair was a darker blonde, no longer the light honey gold that it had been when they met. Months of being in the hospital had leeched the colours out of it. Even the blue and red streaks weren't as bright and Aragorn found himself mourning the loss. They seemed like such an integral part of Boromir's personality and to see them faded like dead roses was difficult.

Looking at him, at those green eyes and faded hair, his emotions rose up in huge waves, nearly choking him.

//Shit! Why is this happening right now// he asked himself as he fought to not touch Boromir. He knew that if he did, all his resolutions would just go out the window and he would find himself caught in an even bigger mess than before.

He shook his head and looked over at Legolas, who was watching them with a calculating look on his face as he idly played with the bouquet of flowers.

"I'm sorry, Lee." Aragorn apologized to his brother, although he didn't really know why he was doing it.

Lee only smiled at him, a calm, smug smile that made Aragorn wonder whether the elf knew something that he didn't.

"It's alright, Estel. You and Sebastien need to talk. I will be here, of course, when you come back," Lee told him. Aragorn nodded before he looked down at Boromir.

"Where should we go then?" Aragorn asked Boromir, addressing him for the first time in a long time.

"The waiting room. No one will bother us there," Boromir replied, his voice soft and subdued.

Aragorn nodded and followed Boromir as he wheeled himself out of the room without saying another word. There was nothing else left to be said. That is, until they got to the waiting room.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Faramir had just taken off his coat and had put it in the closet when he felt a tugging at the hem of his hoody.

Looking down, he was surprised to see Merry's small hand bunched up in the fabric.

"Yeah, Chibi?" he asked as he picked up the hobbit and perched him on his hip.

"Who are they?" Merry asked, pointing to the congregation of elves and humans that had gathered in the living room.

"Friends, Merry. They're going to stay here for a while," Faramir explained.

"They aren't mean, are they?" Merry whispered anxiously. Faramir shook his head.

"No. They aren't like that. I wouldn't let mean people come here," Faramir assured him.

Merry nodded and snuggled even more into Faramir's embrace, content with all in the world at the moment. If Faramir had said things were okay, then they probably were, he assured himself. There was nothing to worry about, even if the people did look scary.

Pippin, too, was hesitant to actually come out and greet the congregation of people in his safe haven. He would have run up the stairs if it hadn't been for the comfortable perch that Celly's arms had become.

For the moment, he sat in her lap and watched the visitors as they made themselves comfortable on the assorted couches and chairs that decorated the living room.

"Nice place you have here, Mir," Danny told him as he flopped down on a wicker chair and pulled Glorfindel onto his lap the second he had gotten comfortable.

"Thanks," Faramir replied as he stepped into the living room and looked over at everyone that was there.

Danny and Glor sat snuggled up together as was their habit. Eomer, surprisingly enough, was hovering over Celly. If Faramir didn't know any better, he would say that Eomer was...well�for a lack of a better word, *crushing* over his older sister. Even though Eomer kept glancing over to where his sister was being watched over Max, he was mostly keeping his eyes on the tall blonde elf.

The other couple that made Faramir wonder if he was seeing things were Max and Eowyn. Never in a million years would he have imagined that the elf had any affection for the human girl. If he recalled it correctly, Max was more often than not cool towards her. If he liked Eowyn, then he had sure done a superb job of hiding it for such a long time.

As for Eowyn, she looked like the chibis, the way she was clinging to Max. She was clutching tightly to his sweater and was so close to him that Faramir swore that if she got any closer to him, she would be sitting in his lap. It was cute, really. He personally had nothing against her doing that, since he knew more so than anyone, probably, that she had been nothing more than a pawn for Arwen. A pawn that hadn't much choice due to the emotional starvation that she suffered at home.

From the hints that Danny and Glor occasionally dropped to him, he knew that Eowyn had a fairly crappy home life. At least Eomer had the chance to get his frustrations out on the hockey rink, but Eowyn was never allowed by her uncle to join any sports teams or other stuff.

"They want her to just sit at home and do nothing. I think she was only allowed to go out with Arwen whenever our father stepped in and called them up," Danny had told Faramir one time as they had watched her meticulously paint yet another one of her masterpieces.

When Faramir had asked how many paintings she had done through the three years she had been in art class he had been floored by her calm reply of sixty.

"What can you expect? She does nothing but sit at home and come to school. Even though my little sister is a huge bitch, she did offer her an escape once in awhile,"

Danny had told him when he had expressed his shock over her output.

"Yeah, at what emotional price?" Max had spoken up, his eyes narrowing angrily as he cut into the conversation. "Arwen is a self-centred bitch who only looks out for Number One. She just used Eowyn, as she used Eomer when she was utterly hell-bent on getting Aragorn to be her consort," Max spat out bitterly, his mouth twisting somewhat when he said the last word.

"I never knew you cared, brother," Danny had noted softly after the minute or so of silence that had settled down after Max's uncharacteristic outburst.

Max had sighed. "Maybe I shouldn't. But that family is fucked up enough as it without our darling bitch of a sister to go and fuck around with them."

"What do you mean fucked up? " Faramir had asked as he had sat back and tilted his face up to the sun.

Danny, Glor and Max had exchanged a look before Glor took the opportunity to speak. "Rumour has it that the reason why Eomer and Eowyn ended up being adopted into the Rohan clan is because their mom had supposedly something to do with killing their dad. I think, although I can't be sure, that Eomer saw the whole thing happen in the living room."

Faramir had swallowed. Hard. Even Lee hadn't had it as hard as that. Yohji and Ken had though, that was the reason why they had been placed in the St. Joaquim Orphanage.

"How old was he?" he had asked, feeling sorry for the aloof teenager. He understood now. Eomer was like Thom in that way. He was trapped in his surroundings with no way out and the best he could do to cope with the life that he had been handed. At least he hadn't turned into a psychopath like Thom had.

"I think he was like, five. And Eowyn was only three or something. I can't recall cause their birthdays are so close together and they showed up a little after or before they had their birthdays that year. Afterwards, we just forgot to ask."

"So you're telling me you have no clue how old they are?"

"Well, how old are you? And don't give me that crap that you are seventeen, kiddo. We counted the candles on your cake and they certainly weren't seventeen candles on the cake," Danny snapped at him as he snuggled up to Glor.

Faramir opened his mouth to reply, but changed his mind at the last minute. Whatever. He was hardly going to argue about it with them.

"Whatever. So that's the dark dirty secrets of the Rohans then?" Faramir had asked, trying to lighten up the sudden dark mood that had struck everyone.

"Most of them. Of course, we still have no idea how Theoden managed to score a BMW," Glor had spoken up, totally deadpan. "But we all have our guesses. And they don't include his dad giving him the money for it."

"Or that he worked really hard in the summer," Max had added caustically.

The others had fallen quiet and didn't speak again until Orophin had nailed Danny with a water balloon square in the head. That had broken up the conversation and everyone had pretty much forgotten it. Including him.

But seeing the way that the Rohans looked at him after school sparked the memories.

And sitting in the living room with all of them in attendance made the memories stand out even more harshly than before.

"Sooo. Are we all going to just sit here and stare at each other until one of us yell mercy?" Celly drawled as she moved around in her chair.

"What can we do?" Eomer asked, drawing all eyes on him. "We can't go home and I know that Theoden will hurt my sister if we go back. There's nothing I can do!"

Faramir blinked. This was a first. He never imagined that Eomer could get so passionate about anything. Most of the time he walked around with an annoying smirk that rivalled Herr Shuldich's on Monday mornings, never showing anything but superficial feelings. Seeing him so incensed made Faramir wonder if the world had gone crazy.

//The world has gone crazy,// the voice in his head agreed. //Ever since that day that Aragorn called you and told you Boromir was hit by a car. Things never were never the same. Everything was fucked up and people were hurt and thrown away. Everyone went insane and things fucked up.//

Faramir closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. It was true. The fact that people were thrown away. As much as he hated to admit it, he had done as much to Legolas.

He had just blurted out his fears and taken off, not once thinking about the elf. The one that he had loved for so long. He snorted out loud. Did he really love him? He sure as hell hadn't acted like he did in the short span of time they were together.

He knew that love was a hard thing to come by with kids like him and the rest of the St. Joachim's brats. He had been taught, from an early age, that once you got love, you took care of it. You protected it. You didn't make the stupid mistake of carelessly throwing it away.

//Flashback//

"We're all we've got," Duo said softly, his bruised face looking even more delicate and pitiful in the light of the single candle. "We don't fuck each other over and *we care for the ones we love.* Above all other things. *We care for the ones we love with our lives.* Got that?"

The whole group was there, surrounding Duo in the large dormitory they slept in: Yohji, Ken, Lee, Trowa, Thom, Boromir, Faramir, Zechs, Nagi, Sally, Goyjo, Sanzo, Hakkai, Tsuzuki, Hisoka, Watari, Tatsumi and Catherine all nodded solemnly as the words echoed and re-echoed in the dimly lit room.

"We gotta remember that. If and when we leave this place, we gotta remember it. Cause if we don't and we break those rules, we are nothing."

"It's true that those shit-heads out there can tell us we're nothing," a quiet, rough voice spoke up in the silence. Everyone's heads turned to the small blonde teenager sitting in the corner, next to red-headed Goyjo with the scarred up face and the affable Hakkai, who was blind in his left eye. Both injuries had been caused by their parents, who had been a little over-zealous in disciplining them. It was Koryuu, the quiet, somewhat crabby kid that was studying to be a priest under Father Maxwell and Father Sanzo.

Privately, everyone wondered whether he really was suited to be one. After all, he swore more, smoked more and drank more than anyone in the orphanage. But he was sharp. Very sharp and when he did speak, everyone listened.

"They may look down on us cause we have no 'real' families. Or homes. Or nothing that could be seen as 'valuable'. But the one thing we got is the love we can give to others. The bonds that we create and protect. If we ever break them, then we are proving them right. But only by that."

"The novice is right," Goyjo agreed as he leaned forward, the candlelight catching the deep crimson of his eyes and hair, the marks of his mixed parentage.

Everyone nodded and fell silent as they contemplated what had been said.

"We can either prove those fuckwads right, or we can flip the finger in front of them."

"Eloquently put," Boromir had agreed quietly before footsteps were heard on the stairs, signalling that Fathers Maxwell and Sanzo where coming upstairs to check on them.

The candle was extinguished and they all jumped into their beds and pretended to be asleep.

//End Flashback//

"I broke the promise," he muttered, knowing that he had broken one of the most important rules of conduct that they held up to each other. "I broke the promise."

He was a coward, he now saw clearly, once he was willing to strip away all the emotions of betrayal and shock that he had been using to shield himself from the truth.

A coward of the highest degree, since he had turned tail and fled once the shit had hit the fan. If he was truly as deeply in love with Legolas as he had claimed to be, he would have stayed and faced the consequences like a man.

Like Zechs had when Sally had ended up pregnant with Nedra. He could have just run off and joined the army, or ignored Sally and denied his daughter, but he hadn't. He had stood by them and worked his arse off to support them while Sally finished school. Hell, there was even talk of a wedding as soon as Sally turned eighteen.

And what the hell had he done?

//You left it all for your brother to take care of. Isn't that the way it has always been with you? You make a mess, he comes in and cleans it up?// Faramir cringed at that accusation, but didn't close his eyes to it.

As much as he hated to admit it, he had always known, sub-consciously at least, that Boromir would always be there to catch him if he stumbled.

To him, Boromir had always been the strong one that would always be there right behind him until the day they died. The one that would always make things alright again.

//The one that would be the adult, right, Faramir?// the voice taunted him again.

Faramir bit his lip. The voice was right. It was high time that *he* began to behave like the adult that he and others perceived him to be. He had to go and make things right by himself once and for all.

"What promise?" Faramir shook his head to bring himself back to the present and looked down at Merry, who was looking at him with curious eyes. Damn. The chibi had heard him.

"A promise I gotta make right, chibi," he replied as he put the hobbit onto the floor and headed over to the closet to retrieve his coat.

"Mir? Hey, Mir? Where the hell are you going?" Celly called out.

"To the hospital," Faramir replied as he opened the front door.

"At this time of day?" his sister asked, appearing in the foyer, Pippin still perched on her hip and Merry now clinging to her baggy navy sweater.

Faramir paused and looked at her, his face serious as he looked at her.

"Yeah. I know it's late. But," he paused as he ran his hand through his hair as he tried to find the words to explain to her what he had to do. "I forgot about a promise I made to myself and to a lot of old friends. A promise that I broke." He laughed bitterly before he looked straight into his sister's eyes. "A promise that I have to make right if it's not too late."

Celly's eyes narrowed as she looked at Faramir. She really wanted to wallop him one, since he had sure taken his sweet time to finally figure out what the hell he was going to do. Not to mention the fact that he was probably going to cause more problems when he finally did what he was going to set out to do.

But she couldn't bring herself to punch him and call him a moron for not moving faster and for not thinking about the consequences of his actions. Especially not now that the proverbial lightbulb had illuminated his thick skull.

"Fine," she said at last. "I'll talk to mom and dad about the strays in the living room while you do that."

Faramir nodded and was half-way out the door when he heard the clinking of keys before a heavy metal bundle hit him right between his shoulders blades, making him yelp out in pain.

"Take my car. It'll be faster. Get the hell out of here," he heard Celly tell him before she moved back to the living room.

"Okay," he called out after picking up the keys and running out into the cold evening.

"Fucken idiot," Celly muttered as she closed the door behind him and went back to the living room to try and hammer out a plan of sorts before her parents got home.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Aragorn shut the door of the waiting room and turned to look at Boromir, who was sitting at the only table in the room, his chin resting in his hands as he looked out to the dark and dreary landscape that surrounded the hospital.

Aragorn swallowed hard as he walked over to the table. Grabbing a chair, he sat down and leaned on the table, his eyes on Boromir's ashy face as he did so.

He knew he was looking for some sort of signal. A sign that would let him know exactly how he was to proceed through this conversation, but the face remained cool and serene. No information was to be gained from it.

//Fuck,// he swore mentally. He was on his own this time and he knew he was going to have to tread carefully if both sides were going to remain unbloodied.

"It's fucked, isn't it?" Aragorn's body jerked itself up straight at the sound of Boromir's voice.

"What is?" Aragorn asked, blinking dark blue eyes at his companion, who had turned from looking out the window and was now staring straight at him, his eyes a cool shimmering green that held no emotion whatsoever.

Aragorn lowered his hands to his lap and curled them into fists, making sure that his nails dug into the soft flesh of his palms. He didn't care if he was going to have bloody half-moon gouges in his hands later on. He wanted the pain. He welcomed it, in fact. He needed it. Seeing that distant on Boromir's face was just too much for him, since he recalled very clearly the loving, gentle look that had been in those eyes whenever they had rested upon him.

"The fact that we're warily circling around each other like we are expecting the other to attack first, that's what," Boromir told him, his voice quiet. "Especially considering that once, we loved each other."

Aragorn saw a flash of red at that remark and had to close his eyes to keep his temper in check. So. The first attack had taken place.

"We *once* loved each other?!" Aragorn repeated, his voice rough with the strain to keep his temper in check. "I was never informed of this decision to stop loving each other. As far as I am concerned, I *am* still in love with you!" He shook his head, sending his hair whipping across his shoulders with the motion.

"Fucken hell, Boromir! Did you decide this for me too? That I wasn't going to be in love with you anymore?" he yelled, his eyes darkly flaming . "I am not a child, Boromir! You *cannot* make my decisions for me! I'm not your little brother, nor am I Legolas for you to take care of me!" Aragorn practically screamed the last words out as he stood up, knocking his chair over as he did, his eyes still on the silent man sitting across from him.

"I love you. God help me, but I do." Aragorn looked away so that Boromir wouldn't see the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

Fucken hell. Fucken hell. He thought he had gotten over those emotions. He truly believed that they had died a cold death that day when he had heard Boromir's words. That they had died when he had found a measure of comfort in Faramir's arms, in his touch�. But now, seeing Boromir face to face had shown him exactly how wrong he had been to think that.

"Have you gotten everything out of your system yet?" Boromir asked, his voice still quiet, still without a trace of identifiable emotion.

Aragorn's shoulders stiffened as he turned to face Boromir once more. Seeing the cool look on his face made something in him snap. At that moment, he wanted to hurt him. Hurt him like he had been hurt. Hurt him and see pain filling those bright green eyes for the indifference Boromir was showing him.

For his part, Boromir wasn't sure why he was baiting Aragorn. He sure as hell wasn't enjoying himself, yet he couldn't stop himself from doing it. It was as if he was making sure, in a twisted way, that there was still something between them. That it hadn't been completely eroded during the time they had begun to pull away from each other.

"No. Not everything," Aragorn whispered, his eyes now glittering with fury. "I haven't told you I slept with your brother after the fight in the bar."

It had worked better than he had expected, he noted with a sick sense of satisfaction. He watched those green eyes flicker and spark as the words sank in. They were no longer dead glass. Now they were alive with the pain of the knowledge that Aragorn had been touched by someone else other than him.

The silence fell between them like a thick curtain neither was willing to push away. So it stayed for what felt like a century until Boromir spoke.

"Why my little brother?" he asked, his voice now ragged with pain. "Did you do it to spite me?"

Aragorn shook his head slowly, his eyes now devoid of their malicious glimmer.

"We needed comfort, Boromir. Nothing more. You and Legolas shut us out. It was the only thing we could do."

Boromir barked a humourless laugh. "Yet you can still tell me that you love me?"

"You told me the same thing even though you love Legolas," Aragorn countered softly.

"You are right. I do love him. I think I always have been in love with him. Ever since the first time I saw him, I think I loved him."

Aragorn's hands clutched themselves into fists at that soft admission. He had known it, before he came to the hospital. Had known it, but it still hurt to hear it.

"Fine. So are we over then?"

~*~*~*~*~*~

Legolas had just settled down into his bed, his mind a swirl of half-baked thoughts when he heard a couple of sharp knocks on the door.

Sighing a bit irritably, he sat up and called out for the person to come in. If it was a nurse trying to get more blood from him, she was going to get an earful. They had taken so much blood from him that even with his elven healing ability, his arms were starting to look like a junkie's. He wasn't vain by any stretch of the imagination, but the bruises on his pale skin where starting to really piss him off. He had just pulled up the sleeve of his pyjama top when he heard the voice.

"L-Legolas?"

He froze. Like the proverbial deer in the headlights. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

Faramir stood in the doorway. A confused, unsure and flushed Faramir that seemed to be as stunned as Legolas, since he was just standing in the doorway without any inclination to come any closer.

They remained there, watching each other, waiting for a sign, unconsciously imitating their own brothers across the hallway until Faramir shook his head and walked up to the elf.

"Lee." He couldn't say anything else after that. Not with those big brown eyes focused on him. Eyes that spoke of the anger, the hurt and the loneliness that their owner had endured in his life. Hurt that had been given not just by his family, the people that were supposed to protect him, but also by him. The person that was supposed to have loved him above everything else.

He froze. Emotionally and physically, he froze. The memory of that night burned brightly in him, and in his mind's eye he could see the orphanage residents chiding him for being such a coward. After all, he had rushed out of the house, abandoning his other friends, risked his parent's wrath by grabbing the car and being out after school without permission, and for what? To stand there and do nothing but stare at Legolas until his eyeballs stuck to his eyelids? He shook his head. He had done all of this for a reason. He wasn't going to fuck it up.

Taking a deep breath, he took off his omni-present green baseball cap and jammed it down on his head backwards. There. He was now ready.

"This is fucken hard for me," he explained, smiling apologetically at Lee, who was still watching him mutely, the only sign that he was equally nervous being the way that he was clutching the bedclothes so tightly his knuckles were white.

"I came here cause I was reminded of something that I shouldn't have ever forgotten."

Legolas' eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, silently telling Faramir to explain himself.

"I won't say that I'm sorry. Or that I was being an idiot, because that would just be insulting your intelligence. Besides, I'm sure that isn't what you want to hear."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes harshly as he tried to untangle the fine skeins that his thoughts had turned into the minute that he had walked into the hospital room.

"I would like to say something poetic and skilful, but that would just make me seem like some cheap sentimentalist."

Faramir turned and looked at Lee, his eyes locking onto those brown eyes and refusing to let that gaze go until he had spoken his part.

"I want to start again. I want things to be the way that they were before. But I only want that if you are willing to give me a second chance to make things right."

Legolas sucked in his breath, and his hands clutched at the blanket so hard that he ripped the coarse fabric. He turned away from Faramir and looked out the window at the lovely view his room had of the inner city. But he didn't see it, his vision blurred by the tears that were spilling onto his cheeks. He had wanted this. Had wanted for things to work out someway ever since that day things had come crashing down on his head. Now here was the opportunity being handed to him and he wasn't sure if he wanted to actually take it.

"What made you change your mind and come here?"

Faramir winced. He knew that he wasn't going to get forgiveness for being a moron so easily, but he didn't expect to get nailed in between the eyes so soon.

"Was it pity that made you come here?" Legolas asked, his voice low and ragged.

"If it was pity, then get the fuck out of here. I don't need anyone's pity, thank you."

Faramir laughed, a sharp and hollow sound that made Legolas shiver.

"Do you actually think that I would do that to you?" Faramir snorted. "As if I could ever pity you. Considering that you were the only one that I ever wanted to be with. Considering that I used to watch you and my brother and be completely eaten up by jealousy because he was with you. I highly doubt that I could ever pity you no matter what the circumstances."

Legolas wiped the tears from his face on the sleeve of his pyjamas and turned to look at Faramir. Although the other man was pale, there was a determined glimmer to his green eyes that made Legolas feel a little better since Ken had left. He had felt like shit because he knew Ken was telling him to make the right decision. If Aragorn and Boromir worked everything out, he would just be in the way, since Boromir would feel obliged to stand by him. Even though Legolas had told him not to feel as if he had to be everyone's strength, he knew that the human would brush the words away when it came to his well-being. If that were to happen, he was positive that he would lose Aragorn's friendship, since he would be damaging the best chance that his brother had for happiness.

"Hn. Are you here then, because of the kids?"

Faramir shrugged as he fiddled with the zipper of his jacket. "Not entirely. Yeah, they are my kids. But I am not here just to do my duty or some noble shit like that. I'm here cause I miss you. Cause I realized I was a moron for throwing away what you gave me, and also because *I* am just stumbling through life without you. I have no worries about you making it on your own just fine," Faramir admitted, his voice losing the bantering tone of before and becoming terribly serious.

Legolas looked down at the ripped blankets and frowned. It was time to stop fucking around.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Boromir ran a hand through his hair and looked down at the table-top, his eyes burning with the tears he stubbornly refused to shed.

He didn't think that he even deserved to cry, since he was the one that had single-handedly made what could have been a friendly talk into a war that benefited no one.

All he had done was bait the other man and widen the distance between them. He seriously didn't think that it would come to this. To have the metaphorical gun handed to him and for him to decide whether or not he was going to give the killing blow to their relationship.

He could feel Aragorn's eyes on him, but he wouldn't look at the other man. Ever since the words had been spoken, he hadn't had the courage to look at him.

He didn't want the other man to see his eyes, because Aragorn would see the truth in them.

He pressed his fingers against his eyelids to stem the burning feeling and to buy himself more time to find the right words.

Aragorn, for his part, was getting both annoyed and impatient. It was true that he hadn't stopped loving Boromir, but after getting sniped at and frozen out, he was rapidly reaching his limit. He had gone through hell for the guy, but enough was enough. He knew well enough to leave when it looked bleak and hopeless.

And it seemed that this time had finally arrived for him and Boromir.

He looked at the clock and frowned when he saw that a full hour had passed since they had come in here to talk. An hour and nothing had been solved at all.

He let out a soft sigh of either anger or regret, he couldn't really tell, before he buttoned up his coat and gave Boromir one last look.

"Screw this. It's perfectly obvious that this is all over. I am leaving now. I won't bother you anymore, Boromir." He bit his lip after he had spoken. Shit that had hurt! Even though he knew that it would come to that, it still hurt to actually hear that spoken aloud.

He looked at Boromir one last time and saw that the only change there was that Boromir had slumped down even more in the wheelchair, looking a lot like a puppet whose strings had broken and was now waiting to be thrown out with tomorrow's trash.

The sight of him like that was so pitiful and heart-wrenching that Aragorn had to resist the impulse to rush over to the other man and babble a million apologies and how much he had missed the other man and how he wanted for them to make it right again.

//It's over.// he thought as he pulled his gloves on. There was nothing left to wait for here.

He had just turned towards the door when he heard Boromir singing. Singing a song that he had heard once and never again.

"We can't agree on a single thing, I don't know why.

We almost killed each other on the inside.

I managed to be a jerk anyway,

it doesn't have to be this way

Forget about the things I said

I make no excuse for them.

I want to start again"

Aragorn closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His fists clenched and he willed himself to remain calm. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to run to Boromir and he certainly wasn't going to embrace him and kiss him and agree.

//I won't!// he thought as he turned and ran over to Boromir and put his arms around him. Boromir sagged into his arms and buried his face into Aragorn's shoulder. He began to cry in earnest while Aragorn stroked his hair and let his own tears fall down his cheeks.

//Aw fuck it. I did.//

Notes: a very special thanks to Kotori, Omittchi, Alex, Akin, Kris and others who are still with me and loving the story.

I know I have stuck new characters in here.. I have been watching a lot of cartoons to help calm my brain before my finals.

Koryuu, Goyjo, Hakkai and Father Sanzo are from Saiyuki. (Great series, btw.) I know that Sanzo and Koryuu are Buddhists, but it makes more sense for the story for them to be Catholic priests, due to the running of the orphanage. Any cracks about that and ye shall get smacked.

Tsuzuki, Tasumi and Watari are from Yami no Matsuei (Descendants of the Dark). Yet another awesome show that I totally recommend. I mean it!

Thom Yorke...he only has the name of the radiohead guy. He is actually based on a friend who, sadly, has been lost to me.

Okay. I'm once again terribly sorry for updating this late, but a bout of depression and writer's block just killed my desire to work on anything this past month. I am hoping to get this part and another interlude out before I take a leave. I'm sorry about that, but this is my last year at the University and I have to make it count.

Enough of this, on with the show.

Part 19- Christmas Celebration

"You know how the story goes

You've seen it all before

that man is so obese

that he can't get out the door

Carolers are singing

Registers ka-chinging

won't you stay with me tonight

cause I'm running out of fight

and the eggnog is making me ill." Weezer

"Are you ready yet, man?" Danny yelled out to his brother, who was critically examining his reflection as he combed his long, thick black hair away from his face.

"One more minute man. One more minute," Max muttered as he fixed his hair and placed his beloved NOFX hat on his head, making Danny shrug.

"Okay. Done. Do you have the presents?" Max asked as he shut off the lights and walked out of the bathroom and into Danny's room.

"Just putting them into the bag, bro," Danny assured him as he put the last brightly coloured package into a large plastic shopping bag.

"Did Aragorn give a specific time for us to show up at?" Max asked as they walked down the stairs and to the foyer, careful to avoid Arwen.

"He said at eight." Danny replied as they grabbed their coats and quickly put them on.

Max looked at his watch. The light blue numbers said 7.46.

"Do you think he'll mind if we show up a bit early?"

Danny shook his head. "We won't show up that early. Besides, we're going to pick up Glor on the way there."

Max nodded and was just opening the door when he spotted his father coming towards him and Danny.

"Happy Christmas, boys!" Elrond Rivendell greeted his sons as he enveloped them in a bone-crushing hug that nearly made the two elves pass out.

"Happy Christmas dad!" Max and Danny chorused after they had been put down.

"Going to Aragorn's now?" Elrond asked, his grey eyes on the sons that were mirror images of himself in his younger years.

"Yeah. We're just going to pick up Glorfindel and go there right away. Are you sure you don't want to come dad?"

Elrond smiled at his sons and thanked whatever deities there were out there for being allowed to keep them all to himself after their mother had left. He was positive that if his children hadn't remained in his life, he would have been nothing more than a wastrel living on the street waiting to get the courage to end it all.

"Thank you. I appreciate the invitation, Elladan. But I have another appointment to keep tonight that I can't miss. Maybe tomorrow I shall stop by and we can have breakfast together. How does that sound?"

Max and Danny grinned. Even though they wanted their father to come with them and spend Christmas Eve with their extended "family" of friends, having breakfast with their old man was a treat equal to that. Besides, even though they didn't really understand why their father always made it a point to spend the entire night in a church on Christmas eve.

"Good. Great. Is Arwen coming too?" Danny asked, his voice flat as he asked.

"No. She will be spending tonight and the rest of the break with your mother."

Max wrinkled his nose at the news. It was true that there was no love lost between his sister and himself, but there was even less love lost between himself and his mother.

"She asked for Arwen especially. I couldn't find any reason not to refuse."

"Oh. Okay." Max replied as he jammed his hands in his pockets. At least she hadn't been asking for him and Danny. It was a about time that she had gotten the hint.

"Enough about that though, go and have a good time boys. Give my regards to Aragorn and the rest," Elrond told them as he opened the door for them.

"We will," Danny promised as he followed Max out the door and into the crisp night.

They watched their father close the door before they headed over to Glorfindel's house, which was at the opposite end of the block from theirs.

They walked in cold silence until Max broke it with a soft question.

"Why does he feel he has to do penance still?" he asked his brother a tad angrily. "It wasn't his fault. He shouldn't have to punish himself that way every single freaking year! It just isn't fair!"

Danny stopped and grabbed his brother, looking right into his eyes before he spoke. "I know that, Elrohir. But neither you or I have the right to question what he does. If he feels that is a debt that he has to pay, that is his own affair, not ours. So just let it go."

Max only looked at his brother warily. Although he wanted to hash this issue out longer, just like he did every year, he knew that he would get more answers from arguing with a brick wall than from his brother at that point. As soon as Danny called him by his first name, he knew that he was being told to definitely shut it.

"Fine. But only this time. I'm not Arwen that you need to keep this shit away from me."

Danny nodded as he let go of his brother. Max was right. It wasn't fair to keep him in the dark, but it had become such a force of habit he wasn't sure if he was ready to break it.

"Fine. Soon. But not tonight, okay?" Danny said to him as he resumed walking.

"Okay." Max agreed after several moments of silence. "Fine."

"I mean it. You will know it soon enough. But not tonight."

"Okay. I understand." He whispered as he then followed his brother to Glor's house.

But it didn't mean that he had to like it.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Put that bow over there!" Celly ordered as she came into the living room, her arms full of greenery and ribbons.

Aragorn and Faramir were busy on the opposite corner of the grand living room, struggling with the large Christmas tree that Celeborn had brought earlier.

Galadriel was busy in the kitchen making cookies and other goodies with Eowyn's help while Eomer kept the chibis entertained. Legolas lay on the couch untangling lights and laughing at the efforts of his brother and boyfriend. Celeborn was outside putting lights on the house and occasionally coming in for a drink of eggnog.

"Where exactly?" Boromir asked as he made the effort to reach the spot that his sister was indicating.

"Here?" he asked once he had stretched out as much as he possibly could.

Celly stood behind Boromir and cocked her head to judge the effect. "Perfect, gowk. Thanks," she told him as she moved over to the ladder by the entrance way of the living room.

Boromir watched as she climbed the ladder and began to put up all the greenery and ribbons. Even though they technically only had a few days left to enjoy all the decorations and festivities, everyone was putting a great amount of effort to make the house look gorgeous for the Christmas celebration that was going to occur that night.

He was still watching her put up the decorations when Aragorn arrived behind him and wrapped his arms around him.

"Tree's up. Wanna go decorate it?" Aragorn asked as he bent down and planted a quick kiss on Boromir's lips.

"Yeah. Then maybe we could...." Boromir's voice trailed off, but there was a suggestive quirk to his lips that made Aragorn's temperature rise a few notches along with other things.

"Not until you guys finish decorating the damn tree you don't!" Celly admonished them as she jumped down from the ladder and glared at the two men, the sternness of her gaze somewhat ruined by the bright red and green spikes that framed her face and the cheery Christmas shirt her mother insisted she wear for the party. Boromir turned and looked at his sister.

"Awwww...Celly! Come on! Please? It's Christmas!" Boromir pleaded with his older sister, his eyes widening as Boromir made himself look cuter.

"Yeah! Exactly! Now get to work decorating that damned tree! Then we'll see about you guys getting your jollies! Now move!" Celly ordered them as she swatted at them with some of the left-over bits of greenery left over before going into the kitchen.

"Grinch," Boromir muttered as he moved towards the couch, where all of the boxes of decorations had been placed.

"I heard that, Sebastien!" Celly shouted at him from the next room.

In response, Boromir stuck out his tongue, making Aragorn snicker at his childish behaviour.

"Hey! I thought you were on my side!" Boromir complained when he saw Aragorn doing that. Aragorn grabbed an armful of garland and kissed Boromir on the forehead as he walked past him and towards the tree.

"She's your sister man. I am only a spectator." Aragorn replied, winking at Legolas as he turned to the tree and began wrapping the silvery garland around the tree.

Boromir muttered something and slumped in his wheelchair, pretending to sulk at Aragorn.

"You know he's right, Sebbie!" Legolas added, an impish grin on his face as he handed Aragorn more of the silver garland.

"Traitors," Boromir muttered as he moved closer to Legolas and poked the elf in the arm.

"Actually, I prefer to call it self-preservation, Boromir. Your sister is evil once she is crossed." Legolas reminded him as he lay back on the couch and smoothed the rumpled wool blanket Faramir had gotten him over his lap.

Boromir tried to glare at him, but the effort just fell flat, since Lee was using his patented cute elf look on him. The one that was so sickeningly sweet it just made everyone give in to his demands lest they develop tooth decay by being exposed to it for longer than a couple of minutes.

"I give up!" Boromir exclaimed as he slumped in his chair, making Aragorn and Legolas snicker. Boromir only glared at them and watched as Aragorn began to place the Christmas lights on the tree and Lee untangle even more of the ornaments at the bottom of the box that they had lain in for years.

Aragorn chuckled and turned to look at his boyfriend and his brother, who were still teasing each other as if they were no more than twelve year olds intent on getting on each other's nerves. Even though he was feeling slightly jealous and on edge watching them act that way, he knew that it was just the residual emotions that he and Boromir still needed to deal with. He knew that despite the two weeks they had spent talking about their relationship and trying to understand the whys and hows behind their actions that there were still many things that needed to be talked about.

He shook his head and reached up for a garland and saw that Faramir was also watching Legolas and his brother, despite trying to pretend that he was helping Eomer mind the chibis. In a crappy way, it made him feel a trifle better that he was not the only one that was experiencing these emotions. It was true that he and Faramir had worked things out between themselves and their partners, but all of the repairs still felt terribly new. If anything, they felt like the thin coating of ice over a pond in early winter. Although it looked solid, one wrong move could break the sheet of ice and plunge one into the dark and murky depths of hypothermia-inducing water.

The fragility of the situation, the need for companionship and Legolas' health had made him forego the annual trip to his Aunt Imogen and Aunt Tamsin's home in York and invite the Lothloriens and the Usual Suspects for a Christmas celebration. A holiday that he hadn't properly celebrated with people that he really cared about in what seemed an eternity.

Aragorn's family had stopped celebrating Christmas for what seemed forever due to his mother's deteriorating condition. It killed him, since he had always enjoyed the large parties that would involve his relatives and when he arrived in Edmonton, his friends. But that changed when his mother started locking herself into her mind more and more often and unable to even attend to her own needs or take care of her son, never mind hosting a large party. Although Arathorn had tried to shield Aragorn from his mother by sending him and then later Legolas away to England for the holidays, Aragorn resented him for it since he often thought that his father was just dumping him and that he wasn't doing anything to help his mother.

It wasn't until later that his Aunt Imogen told him the reason why he was in York every year that he understood. But he still held a deep grudge against his father for having him shipped off like that and vowed that this year it was going to be different.

He had despaired that things would have gone as he had planned them to when he and Boromir had been estranged from each other. But that afternoon in the hospital had made him change his mind and go ahead with the plans that he had been secretly making ever since the leaves had started to fall from the trees.

He looked around the house again and felt a sense of completion. A sense of belonging that he hadn't felt since he was a young man. A sense of everything being right in the world. That just for that moment, everything was going to be all right.

"Penny for your thoughts, Strider?" Aragorn shook his head and looked at Eomer, who had been with Merry and Pippin, but was now standing right beside him, curiosity in his honey-green eyes as he looked at him.

"Just thinking about all of us being together for Christmas and how it just feels totally right, you know?" Aragorn replied as he took the chance to really study Eomer.

Eomer and Eowyn had changed even more after Theoden tried to hurt Eowyn. They had stayed at the Lothlorien home for several days before their uncle had come to take them home. Eomer had refused to return unless there was the assurance that Theoden would not harm either of them. Thengel had agreed, but the next day, Theoden had accosted Eowyn in the bathroom. If Thengel hadn't gotten there right away, Eowyn may have been in severe danger from her cousin.

When that had happened, Eomer had told his uncle that they would rather be wards of the province than either be in danger or make their uncle choose between his son and his niece and nephew. Thengel refused to give them up to the province and had instead sent Theoden to live with another relative of theirs, their cousin Theodred in British Columbia.

After the threat of Theoden had been lifted from their midst, Eomer and Eowyn had begun to move on with their lives. Eomer, to everyone's shock, had hooked up with Celebrian Lothlorien and Eowyn had begun a tentative relationship with Max Rivendell. Even though it had been just a few weeks, there was a definite change in the way that the four acted towards each other and to everyone else. Eomer had become more relaxed, more tolerant and just all around mellower and cooler.

Celebrian had lost that anxious look in her eyes and was, as far as her brothers could tell, really happy to be with Eomer. She doted on him and he on her. So much so that at times it was just sickeningly sweet to see them together. Danny had once noted in a sotto voice that they were actually giving Max and Eowyn a run for their money in the sappy couple department.

It was kind of amusing and cute to see the way that Max changed whenever Eowyn was around. It wasn't that he had gone through a one eighty in his personality, but he did change enough for it to be noticeable. With everyone else, he was still the level headed, cool Max that he had always been. With Eowyn, he would get this smile on his lips that wouldn't leave his face until she was out of the room.

It was terribly sweet and everyone thought so, but it still didn't prevent his friends and his brother from teasing him at every opportunity that they would get.

Aragorn figured that he had heard that "She walks in beauty" quoted so many times that he could possibly quote it in his sleep. He was also sure that Danny had permanent bruises on his arm from Max punching him anytime he opened his mouth and that Celebrian's beloved poetry textbook was probably all dog-eared and highlighted within an inch of its life due Danny's, Glor, Rumil's and Orophin's attempts to look up romance poetry to quote at Max whenever he got that look on his face.

He was yanked out of his thoughts by a soft laugh from Eomer.

"Yeah. I feel the same way. That everything has finally fallen into place, you know?"

Aragorn nodded in agreement as his eyes swept over the room again. "Yeah," he replied. There was nothing else to say about it.

Eomer snickered a bit before he turned and touched Aragorn lightly on the shoulder.

"Eh?" Aragorn turned and looked at the other man, getting a little jarred yet again at Eomer's decidedly different appearance since he started dating Celly.

Eomer now had bright red and orange streaks in his longish honey blonde hair. A bunch of earrings now decorated his ears and his clothes had gone from straight Gap and American Eagle to Value Village and Goodwill. The look suited him, but it also made him privately wonder whether Boromir's sister really enjoyed playing dress-up with all the men that she encountered. Still, if it made Eomer happy...

"Thanks for having me and my sister over this Christmas, Strider."

Aragorn blinked at these words. "Eomer�man. Don't worry about it. You and Eowyn are friends, there's no worries, man."

Eomer shook his head. "You have to admit that I wasn't much of a friend before this, though."

"It's in the past, Eomer. " Aragorn assured him, his eyes shifting from the other man's face to rest again on Boromir, who was teasing the chibis as was his wont. He sort of understood why Eomer had been like that in the past. Cold, arrogant, grimly-focused on one thing and one thing alone. He had gotten a clearer glimpse as to why Eowyn and Eomer were the way that they were in those days they had spent at the Lothlorien house. He hadn't for sure gotten the truth, he knew that. But he understood them better and was willing to change his opinion of them.

"I still fell like I should apologize for the way I used to act and for the way I would push my sister on you."

Aragorn kind of smiled at that revelation. He sort of suspected that Eomer had had something to do with the frequent way that he and Eowyn had been thrown together in the past, but he hadn't ever expected to get a straight answer from the parties that were involved.

"No worries. Things worked out right? Forget it, Eomer. Don't carry anymore burdens than is actually necessary. Let it go."

Eomer laughed softly before he punched Aragorn on the shoulder. "Thanks man." Eomer was about to say something more when two sugar-hopped hobbits came rushing out of somewhere and hurled themselves at Eomer and Aragorn's legs. Both men winced at the impact, but they both thanked their lucky stars that the hobbits' heads didn't reach a sensitive part of their anatomy.

"Eomer! Eomer! Wanna come and build a snowman with us? Please! Please! Please!" Merry yelled at the human as he ran up to Aragorn and tugged at his pants. Eomer groaned and turned to Aragorn with a pained expression on his face.

"What the hell did you guys give these kids? Crack?" Eomer muttered as Pippin tugged at his arms while babbling something that could have sounded like "yobbity-hayablaughhey-hum-pekkanoiranoiraumheytekyobbity-bong!", since the hobbit was hopped up on sugar that his words sounded like Finnish crossed with vulgar Latin.

"No. Something even better and less addicting." Celly replied in a sotto voice as she suddenly appeared beside them, a maliciously amused look on her face as she spoke.

"Heroin?" Aragorn asked, a small smile touching his lips. Celly shook her head.

"Nope. And you shall see the results in five..four..three..two..one."

As if on cue, the babbling stopped and the eyes of the Chibi's got glazed over and their bodies slumped over. If it hadn't been for Eomer and Aragorn's fast movements, they would have surely landed on the floor face-first. Celly only watched and cackled when she saw that happen.

"I'm starting to be really afraid of you now," Eomer commented as he watched his girlfriend chortle and cackle evilly over the unconscious hobbits.

"What the hell did you give them?" Aragorn asked, not really sure if he wanted to get an answer to his question.

Celly smiled wickedly. "It's called Grandma's revenge," she informed them as she took Pippin in her arms and began walking towards the area of the house with all of the bedrooms.

"Grandma's revenge?" Aragorn asks as he follows her to the bedroom that they had designated would be the Chibis to crash into.

Celly nodded as she tucked Pippin into the large bed, her hands gentle as she smoothed the blankets over his body.

"Yeah. It's simple. What you do is give them as much nanaimo bars as they can handle early in the day and just let them run rampant. At about seven or eight at night, they crash like a ton of bricks and are out for the rest of the night."

She took Merry from his arms and tucked him in beside his brother, careful to bestow the same gentle touches on him as well. "It's great except for the hell you go through in the morning when they're all like rabid koalas on E. But I figured that it would be a cheap price to pay for some privacy tonight."

Aragorn felt his face turning red at the casual comment. "We..ah..he.." Aragorn stops sputtering when he hears Celly's low laughter.

"I'm just teasing you, Arri. It's my job. Older sister, remember?" She asked as she reached up and ruffled his hair affectionately.

"Aaah." Aragorn replied weakly, feeling a little like a fool over his reaction. Celly smiled a bit before she spoke to him again.

"Hey, ti's cool. As long as that isn't the only thing that you guys do the whole damned night."

Aragorn's ears turned read at that point. He was sure of it. "No...no...that's not what we're going to do at all," he replied, his expression pained as he spoke.

"What are you going to do then?" Celly asked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I... I... I don't know yet." Aragorn admitted to her, his gaze turning to the wintry scene he could see through the half-shut curtains in the room.

"I know that I want to hash everything out completely rather than have the past hanging over our heads. I lived through that with my family and I'm not about to live through it again with him."

"I see." Celly replied softly.

"Do you really?" Aragorn asked the blonde elf.

"Yes. I do. That is why I'm bothering to stick my nose into your business and give you some advice."

Aragorn shook his head. "What kind of advice can you give me?"

"Be honest with each other." Celly told him, her voice soft as she spoke. Aragorn blinked and Celly turned to leave the room.

"That's it?" he asked, making her pause at the doorway.

"I know it doesn't sound like much, but believe me, it's probably the best piece of advice I can give you. You guys have a good thing going there. It would be a total shame to fuck it up after all the shit you guys threw at each other. It's true that you have reached a truce of sorts, but the wounds are still there, you know."

Aragorn sighed. It was true what she was saying. He knew that himself, since he had compared the healing that had happened between him and Boromir as a thin sheet of ice. One misstep and it would all break.

"You have that little faith in me, Celly?"

The blonde elf lowered her head before she spoke. "I have that *much* faith in you, Estel. That is why I am telling you this." She walked out of the room, leaving Aragorn confused and still staring out at the snow piled outside.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

"You fixed the brownies, right?" Danny whispered to Glor as they hovered over the pan of fresh baked brownies.

Glor nodded solemnly as he produced two empty sandwich bags, making Danny's eyes practically bug out of head when he saw them.

"Glorfindel!" he exclaimed as he ripped the bags out of his boyfriend's hand and looked at them with an expression of horror.

"Please tell me you *did not* just empty eight grams of pot and seven grams of shrooms into that pan of brownies!" Danny nearly shrieked.

Glor nodded solemnly, not at all fazed by his boyfriend's somewhat over the top reaction. "It's a big pan and I spread it out evenly, Danny. No one is going to go retarded. Besides, What could possibly go wrong?" Glorfindel asked as he put his hand on Danny's arm and led him out of the dining room area were all the food had been laid out, waiting for the guests that were now milling about the room.

"A hell of a lot, smartass." Danny replied as he glared at his boyfriend.

Glor rolled his eyes. "Like what? Having Mr. Haldir and Fujimiya show up and eat the damned brownies and drink the vodka spiked punch?"

Danny glared at him again and was about to bite out a retort when the doorbell rang.

"I got it!" Celly yelled as she ran to the foyer. She flung the door open carelessly and screamed, making everyone in the house practically stampede to the door to see what had gotten the usually unflappable elf so excited.

"Oh my fucken god! Haldir! It's been so long!" Celly yelled out joyously as she glomped the staid history teacher so tightly that Danny and Max were sure that she was cutting off his air.

"Eh...Celly! It's...been...long!" Haldir managed to wheeze out before Celeborn stepped forward and peeled his daughter off of the elf.

"Too long. What have you been up to?" Celly asked excitedly. Haldir was about to reply when Celly let out another shriek and jumped past Haldir to glomp the man beside him.

"Ranny! Ranny! How are you!?" Eomer would have been jealous at the way that his girlfriend was glomping the other men she was greeting; but he was having a hell of a time trying hard not to laugh at the way that the history and maths teachers looked as they received one of Celly's infamous glomps. Never in a million years would he have thought that he would have been witness to such a scene. And now that he was witnessing it, he was sure that he was going to fall over laughing at the sheer ludicrousness of it all.

"Honey...honey...I think you should let Ranny go and invite him into the house for some punch and brownies. After all, you haven't seen each other ever since you went off to McGill's," Galadriel suggested as she calmly pried her daughter off of the red-faced and shocked Japanese man while the Usual Suspects tried their hardest not to burst out laughing. All except two, that is.

"What could go wrong, he says. It's not like Haldir and Fujimiya are going to show up and eat the brownies and drink the punch," Danny mocked his boyfriend, who was only shaking his head at Danny's extremely childish behaviour.

"So what if they did?" Glorfindel replied breezily as they followed the crowd that was now moving into the living room to follow Galadriel's suggestion of partaking in the brownies and the punch.

"So what if they did?" A vein in Danny's forehead began to throb as he tried to not fly off the handle entirely and strangle the love of his life right then and there.

"We could get completely crucified for one thing! Did you ever think about that?"

"We could...but that's only if someone decides to spill the beans, Elladan." Glor pointed out, his voice calm as they settled down in a chair by the charmingly decorated Christmas tree. Danny frowned at the use of his real name, but kept his mouth shut. He knew that if he kept on yelling at Glorfindel everyone would know what was up and the party could very well be ruined, which was something that he didn't want. So even though he didn't agree with Glor's sudden malicious lunacy, he decided that it would be better if he just played along with him.

"Besides, can you imagine the fireworks?" Glor murmured as he settled himself into Danny's lap and watched as Galadriel cut the brownies and handed them out on paper plates while Celeborn ladled out the seemingly harmless punch.

Danny snickered softly as he then wrapped his hand into his boyfriend's blue-green braid. Yes. As much as he hated to admit it, he would be quite pleased to see what kind of fireworks would spark up.

~*~*~*~

"Don't drink that," Faramir told Legolas before he plucked the clear glass full of pinkish liquid out of his boyfriend's hand and placed it on a nearby table instead.

"Why not?" Legolas asked, feeling a bit annoyed at Faramir's over-protectiveness. The other man hadn't let him touch the brownies or the drink that had been going around the room and he was getting annoyed. He needed a fix of chocolate and dammit he was going to get it even if it killed him. He was also quite thirsty and having had that delicious looking glass of punch didn't do anything to ingrate Faramir to him at all.

Faramir noticed the murderous look on Lee's face and decided that the best course right now was to get him some kind of good enough substitute that would keep the elf from ripping his nutsack off and stuffing it up his nose.

Deciding this, Faramir ran into the dining room area and quickly loaded a plate with chocolate lindor balls and cookies. Once that was done, he then grabbed a big glass and filled it with Lime Punch, the only beverage in the house that hadn't been spiked by Danny or Orophin.

"Here. Eat this instead." Faramir told his boyfriend as he deposited the goodies on the elf's lap.

"Thanks. This is nice, But why couldn't I eat or drink the other stuff?"

Faramir looked at his half-eaten brownie with a small look of annoyance before he replied.

"Because they are spiked to kingdom come. Even I can't eat them�unless I want to end my night with a seizure, that is."

Legolas' eyes widened at the news. "You're fucking joking! I thought Aragorn was drier than the fucken Sahara!"

Faramir shook his head. "I don't think it was him, to tell you the truth."

"Who could it have been then? And how did they get it into the brownies without Galadriel and Eowyn noticing?" Legolas asked as he drank the lime punch.

Faramir shrugged as he looked around the room. He had seen everyone acting a little off-kilter the minute that the brownies and the punch had been passed around, but he didn't really pay attention to the behaviour since he had been talking with Legolas for most of the night. Also, everyone's behaviour was *not* that unusual for him to take notice of. Until now.

Boromir was sitting quietly, his eyes focused on the flashing Christmas lights, a small smile on his face as he watched them blink on and off. Aragorn was pretty much out of it, his head nodding against Boromir's shoulder and his eyes drooping nearly shut. Only a faint glimmer of dark blue peeking between his dark lashes told the group that he was still with them. Terribly lethargic, but still there.

Danny and Glor had retreated into their own world and were speaking to each other in the language of abstracts that only the really stoned can understand. Orophin and Rumil were busy playing with each other's hair and occasionally muttering to themselves in one of the elvish dialects as they flicked themselves in the face with the ends of their red and orange dyed hair. Max was wide-eyed and Eowyn was just stumbling into the kitchen. Eomer was just giggling and teasing Lembas, who lay on his back and occasionally twitched his tail to indicate he was alive, but that was the extent of his movements. Although Lembas could move like the wind when he wanted to, most of the time he was as Boromir had commented one time: "A rug with feet." So even though he may have been annoyed at Eomer's teasing, the lazy tabby didn't move an inch.

"This is weird." Legolas muttered once he had taken stock of everyone in the room. Or almost everyone, he amended when he saw that Celebrian, the teachers and the Lothloriens weren't in the living room.

Frowning, he was about to comment on the lack of adult when he heard a distinctively feminine squeal come from the kitchen. "Celeborn! Did you just pinch my bum?"

Faramir and Legolas looked at each other, both of them wondering whether they were just hearing things. This thought was dispelled when they heard another little shriek and Eowyn stumble out of the kitchen, a glass of water in one hand and the other rubbing her hip.

"Damned guy pinched me!" Eowyn exclaimed, her voice kind of light and panicky as she spoke. Eomer blinked and Aragorn's head jolted down from Boromir's shoulder and back up again before his heavy-lidded eyes focussed on Eowyn.

"Who?" Orophin managed to utter as he pulled his hand away from Rumil's hair.

"Celeborn." There was a shocked minute of silence in the room before everyone burst out laughing.

"Celeborn!" Rumil screeched as he fell over Orophin, who was giggling like a madman on the floor.

"You're kidding!" Aragorn exclaimed, his eyes going even more narrow as he looked at Eowyn.

"Swear to god man! I was getting a glass of water and he pinched my hip!" Eowyn told them as she gulped the water down thirstily.

"That's just...messed." Boromir commented softly as he batted at the light in front of him.

It was leaving nice funky traisl all over his vision and he was sure that the angle hanging on the left side of the tree was trying to hit on him.

Shit. He was never eating brownies again. This was worse than the last time he kept seeing the talking cats with Italian names. Those fuckers were just too freaking scary man.

He shook his head and looked around and found Orophin was batting at something on the wall that he could only see. He was muttering something about glowing boo-berries and Rumil was tickling him mercilessly, totally getting a kick out of the boo-berries.

He saw Eomer was trying to make Lembas dance to some off-key singing that he was sure was his sister.

Sure enough, Celly came into the living room and began to sing a Vandals song.

"I don't believe in Santa Clause-
his corporate image forced upon
the blinded spending masses,
to enslave the lower classes

with obligatory gifts that serve to cleanse
a year of guilt and shame.
One token gesture justifies
the apathetic, hypnotized.

Leaving them to be Kris Kringle's slaves.
Buy! Buy! I won't do it.
The seasons obligation has not my participation.
Buy! Buy! I won't do it.
The money hungry mating call of corporate swine...."

Cellly's voice died off as she wandered out of the room and into lord knew where. Probably back to the kitchen or something.

"What the hell was that?" Aragorn uttered, his voice slurry and thick as he spoke.

:"Something really weird. Weirder than Boromir's dad."

Boromir raised his head and flipped the bird in the general direction of the person that he *thought* had spoken.

"My dad is not *weird* okay?"

The statement was refuted by another girly squeal coming from the kitchen.

"Celeborn! Really! Are you okay, Ranny?"

Boromir's eyes widened at the comment while everyone just burst out laughing at the same time.

The laughter was still in full throttle when a pale, red-haired person almost fell into the living room, making the stoned laughter stop instantly.

"I don't feel well..." Ran Fujimiya's voice sounded so strained and weak that no one was tempted to make any cracks at the teacher's expense. Sure, it would have been great fodder for jokes later on, but the sickly pastiness of his face, coupled with the sound of his voice so unlike his usual tone made them all shut up. There would be no fun in picking on a guy that looked like he was going to just puke his guts up on the carpet.

Aragorn stood up and unsteadily walked over to the teacher. Chances were that he didn't know where the bathroom was and he sure as hell wasn't interested in having puke all over his carpet. He hadn't wanted to get up form his spot beside Boromir, but his carpet was more important than his comfort.

"I...ah...I'll take you to the can...sir," Aragorn told the teacher as he put his arm around the slender form and began to guide him to the lavatory he was sure was down the hall�somewhere.

He hadn't lived in the house in a while and it was so damned big that even he forgot where the four bathrooms where located. He hoped that this time he would be able to find at least one of them and fast, judging by the look on the teacher's face.

He had just walked a couple of steps when his arm was gently lifted off of the teacher. Startled, Aragorn only had time to blink as he watched Haldir put his own arm around the maths teacher and leave the room with the innate grace that all elves seemed to possess.

They all watched them make their way out of the room before Max got up from his spot and punched his brother hard in the shoulder.

"Ow! Fuck! What was that for?" Danny squawked as he rubbed his shoulder and squinted up at his brother.

"Haldir and Fujimiya are together...pay up," Max told him, holding out his hand for the money.

"Cheap bastard!" Danny muttered before he dug into his pocket and produced a crumpled 20 dollar bill.

"You made the bet, I'm only collecting," Max reminded him as he shoved the green bill in his pocket and sat down beside Eowyn, who was slurping her water down like it was going to be stolen from her.

Danny was about to protest that when Haldir poked his head in the west doorway of the living room, making them all fall silent.

"Aragorn...is there a spare bedroom where Ran and I could spend the night? He just isn't in any shape to drive home and quite frankly...neither am I." Haldir admitted, a light blush staining his normally pale face as he spoke.

Aragorn blinked at his teacher for several moments before nodding and walking ever so carefully to his history teacher, paranoia from the drugs starting to kick in the minute that he got close to the elf. "Just follow me, Mr. Haldir," Aragorn whispered as he walked down the hallway that was lit enough to show the numerous doors that led to the many unused bedrooms in the house.

"Could you just open up one of the rooms, Aragorn? I have to fetch Ran from the bathroom." Haldir explained.

"Yeah. Sure." Aragorn replied as he looked down the hall, trying his best to recall which room wasn't yet claimed.

He had finally remembered that the last second room on the right was empty and had just opened the door and flicked on the light-switch when Haldir and Fujimiya showed up. One look in the Japanese man's direction told him that Haldir hadn't been lying when he had said that Fujimiya was in no shape to drive. If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought that the man was dead, judging by the paleness of the skin and the way that the dangerous violet eyes are glazed over.

"Is there a bed?" Haldir asks as he shifts the other man's body to get a better grip on the dead weight.

"Yeah. It's clean too. You'll find some spare blankets in the closet, I think." Aragorn tells him in a soft voice.

Haldir nods curtly before he steps into the room. "Thank you, Aragorn."

Aragorn shrugged. "You're welcome, sir." Haldir nodded and closed the door to the room, making Aragorn shrug again before he went back to the living room.

When he entered the room, he was greeted by Galadriel.

"What's up?" he asked her as he wondered whether her eyes where really supposed to be glowing such a bright green and whether it was normal for her skin to be a sickly shade of greenish-white.

"I think it maybe would be time to have everyone go to bed," she told him, her voice kind of whispery and wavering as she spoke.

"Oh?" was the intelligent reply he came up with since his attention was taken up by the sight of a skulking Celeborn with eerily glowing eyes that was holding a finger to his lips as he came up behind his wife.

"Yes. Everyone is falling asleep out there and I'm not feeling terribly well either. I think that we must have screwed up the brownies or some-EEEEH! Celeborn!"

Aragorn's eyes widened at that small shriek. Celeborn was smiling beatifically as his wife rubbed her bum and glared at him.

Aragorn wanted to laugh. He honestly did. But he felt that it wouldn't be proper to laugh when something so ludicrous was happening in front of his face, so he looked away and waited until the adults had gotten a sense of normalcy around them.

"-rooms to be divided up...Aragorn, are you listening to me?"

"Huh?" Aragorn's attention was drawn sharply back to Galadriel, who was still spacey, but was back to her normal self. Celeborn was watching his wife with a detached, yet amused look on his face.

"Could you go and tell everyone which rooms they are going to be in, since they are all fairly unconscious and it wouldn't do for them to sleep in the living room tonight?" Galadriel explained patiently to the spacey young man.

"Yeah. Sure. Will do." Aragorn promised as he headed back into the living room to take stock of the mess.

To his surprise, it wasn't as bad as he had feared. The only mess that he really had to take care of, it looked like was the stoned elves, a semi-stoned Eowyn and a far-gone Boromir. He looked at the couch and was surprised to see that Faramir and Legolas were watching him with strangely lucid eyes. He'd eventually figure out how those two managed to stay sober while the rest of them where floating higher than kites at that given moment.

"Estel," Legolas greeted his brother. Faramir only nodded in acknowledgement, since he was still unsure as to where they stood after their own small interlude.

To put it mildly, he was totally weirded out about the whole damned thing and he had done his best not to be alone in a room with Aragorn if he could very well help it. There was simply no way to come up with a delicate way to bring it up so he didn't try. Especially when he and Aragorn were busy building up their broken relationships.

"Lee. How's it going?" Aragorn slurred as he crossed his arms and tilted his head to get a better look at his brother. For some reason, his eyes had started to droop and he was having a hard time actually focusing on anything he chose to look at.

"Fine. You?" Lee asked in return, knowing that Aragorn was well on his way to reaching that fourth plane of existence.

"Fine. I need help in getting them all to bed," he told the elf as he gestured to the bodies that were haphazardly arranged all over the living room.

Legolas only looked at Faramir, who sighed in irritation. "Fine. I'll help you, Aragorn." Faramir told the other man as he reluctantly pulled himself away from his lover and headed over to the nearest body. It had been a fun party but he really wasn't looking forward to waking up stoners from their stupor. Nor was he wanting to drag anyone to their bed either.

"What's going on?" Celly asked as she chose that moment to saunter into the living room.

Faramir and Aragorn looked at each other and grinned wickedly. They were going to get some help after all.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"You know, I never realized this house was so big," Celebrian muttered to Eomer as they snuggled down in the warm covers of the double bed that they were sharing.

"I know. I haven't been here for ages," Eomer muttered sleepily.

"Why?" Celebrian asked, all thoughts of sleep flitting away from her mind as her curiosity about Eomer's past came forth.

"I turned into an asshole." Eomer replied grumpily, burrowing deeper into the covers.

Celebrian blinked. "How did you manage that?"

Eomer groaned. He really wanted to sleep. The drugs were messing with his head something awful and he sure wasn't up to getting the third degree from his girl at this point.

He knew that it had to happen one day soon, since he had said practically nothing about his past and why he and his sister had ended up seeking asylum in her house. He only wished that it hadn't happened when he was so baked out of his tree that he could barely keep his gummy eyes open to look at her.

"Rotten luck," he growled back at her before he turned his back on her and shut his eyes, determined to go to sleep and deal with the inevitable questions tomorrow. Or hopefully much later than that.

"Why don't you want to tell me?" Celebrian pressed, not willing to let it go so easily.

"There's just not that much to tell, that's all. Now can you let me go to sleep?"

"Fine. Be a prick then." Celebrian hissed at him before rolling onto her side, nearly pulling the blankets off of Eomer as she did so.

They lay in silence for several moments before Eomer heaved a great big sigh and began tugging the blankets to cover his side. Celebrian snorted and began pulling at the blankets at the same time.

This went on for several moments before Eomer growled in frustration and let them go, nearly making Celebrian fall off the bed at the sudden slackness of the blankets.

"You *are* an asshole," she muttered as she arranged herself on the bed and lay down on her back, sighing deeply as she did so.

"You're a bitch then. I just want to go to sleep, dammit. If I wanted to confess the dirty deeds of my fucken past I would have thrown a shawl over your head and gone into the closet so we could pretend we are in a confessional! But I don't, so could you please let me fucken go to sleep?"

There was silence between them for several moments before Celly's voice fluttered through the darkness. "I am sorry. I just...well...I got curious. I figured it was the perfect time to talk about our pasts, considering that we haven't seen much of each other and when we do have time, you just skitter away from conversation like a scared cat."

Eomer buried his face into his pillow and wished that he could just be able to suffocate himself to death. He seriously wished that he could die, if it meant getting some kind of sleep. It seemed like the fates were hell bent against him getting that though, so he would have to stay awake and talk about things that he wasn't really sure that he had tamed in the back of his head yet.

He lay with his face in his pillow for such a long time that Celly thought he was asleep. She was about to roll over onto her side when Eomer began to speak.

"I...I...Look, it's fucken hard to talk about my past with anyone. It's not like I don't want to tell you, but there's a lot of shit there that even *I* haven't looked at. Not that I particularly want to either."

He shuddered and fell silent for a few minutes, making Celly scoot closer to him. She was about to wrap her arm around him when Eomer sat up. "Don't. Not right now. Later."

Celly's hand dropped onto the bed and she bit her lip. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to have pushed him like that. "Eomer...you...if it brings bad memories up..."

"No. It's okay. I might as well tell you. After all, I haven't really been that forthcoming with you, have I?" He laughed softly before he continued. "My dad...he was just crazy. I think he loved us. I'm not sure. I can't remember much of him. He smelt like strong, sweet spices and had yellow eyes. That's one of the things I remember the most about him. The other thing was that he liked to hit my mom." He swallowed hard as he recalled the nights he would spend tucked into his small bed, his sister cuddled in beside him lest his dad try to do something to her as well.

"I don't know...how long it went on. I don't think I have ever really wanted to find out. All I know is that one night, my mom fought back. And she killed him."

Celly's mouth fell open at the news.

"She came into our rooms and tried to take us far away, but the cops caught her. They charged her with manslaughter. Even though the evidence was there that she had acted in self-defence, the smarmy defence made it sound like it was an unprovoked act. So she was sent to jail for three years. We came to live here, with Theoden and Thengel." He paused then, as he tried to recall the faded memory of his mother once again. But he couldn't remember what she looked like. He knew that she had green eyes and had red hair and smelt like cinnamon and vanilla.

"Eowyn cried all the time when we first came here. I just didn't speak."

He closed his eyes and rubbed his face with his hand as he recalled the long days of having Theoden's mother fussing over them and Theoden picking on them whenever he got the chance.

"I think that if it hadn't been for the elves and Aragorn, we would have just faded away. At first it wasn't much, but it started to help us to move on. They...well...I think that they loved us. And we needed that, at the time. Thengel, in his own absent way, was trying to be nice to us. Theoden's mom also. But we knew that we were second place in her heart. We weren't even her blood relatives. I understand now. But then I resented it." Eomer covered his eyes with his hands.

"And then she left...It hurt. Theoden was becoming meaner and Thengel just wasn't there. We...ended up relying on Aragorn and the Elves more. Aragorn a bit more than the others, since he cared so much for Eowyn. He had so much patience for her. In a way, he helped us learn to live again."

His fists clenched the bed sheets tightly as the memories of those fragile and unreachable days swept over him. He usually was good at keeping them at bay, hidden in the dark corners of his soul with the rest of the small disappointments and shattered dreams he had let go of long, long ago.

"What happened?" Celly asked him, knowing that something must have happened to shatter the brief illusion of happiness that the young Eomer and his sister must have had.

"Arwen took him away from us. Little by little, Aragorn began to slip away. Sure, he was still our friend, but he was never without Arwen at his side. Even when we played, she was there, ingratiating herself with us." He sighed. He hated thinking about his past. It was not fun at all. It just made him tired. "I...I admit that I didn't know what to do. I knew that she was doing *something* but I couldn't say what. I had no one to confide in and my best friend was slowly being taken away from me. I had to take care of a little sister who was having nightmares and who knew that her favourite person was being pulled away from her."

He bit his lip. He really hated admitting the next part. "Even though I tried. I let her down. I abandoned her. I didn't know what to do, so I just let myself be pulled away into the hockey leagues. At first, I hated it. But when I started getting good and having my team-mates rallying around me...I started to really get into it. I was always at practice and games and stuff...and I left my sister behind."

Celly sat up then and put her arms around Eomer in a loose embrace.

"She isn't a bad person. She's a good girl. She really is. After all, I left her alone...she didn't have anyone to turn to...Arwen was there and...Fuck�." Eomer slumped into her arms. He didn't want to, though. Didn't want to seem so fragile to her. Didn't want to make her think he was such a bad person for leaving his sister behind. Didn't want her to think less of him. He wanted to push her away, but his arms wouldn't obey him. His hands too, were useless as he clawed at her back. He wanted to tell her more. Wanted to tell her how sorry he was. Wanted to explain why he had spent so many years in a lonely wilderness, but all that came out of his mouth were dry, choked sobs.

Celly kissed the top of his head and began to rock him back and forth.

~*~*~*~*~*

The blankets had been pushed off the bed long ago. It had been too hot already to need them. Even though the room was a bit chilly, neither moved to get them back. They were too busy exploring each others' bodies to care.

Mouth bruised mouth, hands raked across hair and expanse of exposed flesh as the bodies moved in a rhythm as old as time. Soft moans and gasps were heard here and there, occasionally shushed by wet kisses showered on a sensitive part, or on swollen lips. Pain had long been forgotten. The same with time and existence. There was nothing to them. Only each other. Only the feeling of the sheets underneath and the moisture that was cooling on their bodies as completion loomed closer and closer. Screams were prevented by biting tender flesh. The end had arrived for her. Then him.

There was silence. Night covered them.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Celeborn couldn't sleep. It was pissing him off. The rhythmic thumping noise coming from wherever the hell it was coming from had woken him up from a deep and blissful post-coital sleep and he wasn't too happy about that.

Considering that the session he and his wife had just had was on par with coming the closest he could imagine to dying and seeing heaven; getting his sleep spoiled meant that someone totally had to pay.

He rolled over and closed his eyes and tried to think of nothing. Maybe that would hopefully bore him enough that he would fall asleep. No such luck. The minutes dragged, he was bored and he *still* wasn't asleep. So he tried a new tactic and recalled the memory of how he had spent his time earlier.

<<Flashback>>

"Harder! Harder! Dammit! HARDER!" Galadriel nearly shrieked as Celeborn pumped into her as hard as he could, making the dresser that they were leaning against slam against the wall as they did so.

"Jeezuz, woman!" Celeborn grunted, but he kept up the frenetic pace, enjoying the way that Galadriel's hair was all over the place and how her nails dug into his back as he fucked her silly.

She kept on moaning and screaming, bucking against him, trying to get more of him inside of her as he slammed into her with what would have been bruising force for a mere mortal but was nothing more than a very hard thrust for her.

This went on for what seemed forever until Celeborn finally came, flooding her with so much semen that it had dripped down her legs to soak into the carpet. But he wasn't done with her. Kneeling in front of her, he had spread her legs and lapped up at her cunt, almost like a worshipper at a pagan fount. She dug her nails in his head and nearly ripped out chunks of his silver hair as he drew her closer and closer to her own orgasm.

Licks, nibbles and kisses all over her swollen nether mouth, her clit and lips made Galadriel nearly cry as the orgasm built up inside of her. She could barely stand on her own legs and leaned forward slightly, making her husband take some of her weight. His lips brush against her swollen labia and his tongue found her clit at that time, making her practically sob when he began to suck on it, finally calling the orgasm forth and making her collapse in a heap on top of him.

"God. I think I just died." Galadriel whispered before Celeborn kissed her.

<<End Flashback>>

It had been too late for them to take a shower, so they had taken advantage of the half-bath in the unused master bedroom before crawling into bed. Galadriel had fallen asleep the instant her head had hit the pillow, and he had followed soon after.

He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep for when he had become aware of the thumping noise. He had hoped that it would have stopped by now, but half an hour had passed and it still kept on going. And going. And going.

He rolled over and put the pillow over his head, but the sound still got through. Frustrated, he jumped out of bed. There was simply no way that he was ever going to get some sleep if this kept up. Pulling on some boxers, he quietly crept to the door and into the hallway. He turned his head to the left first, then to the right. It seemed like the sound was coming from one of the rooms that the older kids were occupying.

"Great. I'm probably going to have to walk in on someone doing the nasty. Great," Celeborn muttered, hoping that if that did happen, he wasn't going to walk in on his own daughter or sons. It would be too embarrassing. Not just for them, but for him.

Walking noiselessly in the dark corridor, he made his way to the room where the noise seemed to be emanating from. He raised his hand and was about to knock when he heard a louder thump than the ones before followed by Ranny Fujimiya's voice exclaiming: "Jeezuz Haldir! You nearly put my head through the wall!"

Celeborn decided that discretion was a better part of valour and decided that he would just bear out a sleepless night when two of the doors opened up.

"What was that?" Max asked, his voice sleep roughened while Eowyn stood behind him, her eyes unnaturally wide as she looked at him, dressed only in his skivvies.

"What's up?" Danny asked as Glorfindel, Orophin and Rumil poked out their heads to take a look.

"N-n-nothing. I thought I heard some noises and decided to check them out, but it was nothing. Go back to sleep," Celeborn ordered them, knowing full well that if he opened the door he would just create a bigger disturbance and humiliate the teachers in the room.

The kids gave each other looks full of scepticism, but didn't challenge the older elf since they were still really beat. Instead, they just went back into their rooms to speculate on what they had seen and heard. Some though, did it louder than others, as was the case when Celeborn passed Danny and the other elves on the way to his room.

"Whoah! Boromir's Dad is hot!"

Celeborn groaned to himself when he heard that. He honestly thought that with Celly out of the house he wouldn't have to deal with kids commenting on his looks. He guessed he was just wrong on that account. Shaking his head, he entered his room and shut the door silently.

Well, he at least would get some sleep now.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Faramir sleepily made his way into the kitchen, intent on getting himself a glass of water before he crawled back into his warm bed and warm arms of Legolas. He knew it was Christmas morning, but he didn't give a rat's arse. His only concern was to get some fluid in his parched body and to cuddle with the boyfriend that he had finally and truly made up with last night. Nothing could beat that, as far as he was concerned.

So he went into the somewhat messy kitchen and opened the glass cupboard. Only to find it empty. Growling a bit in frustration, he closed it and opened the dish cupboard. Taking out a cereal bowl, he then filled it up with tap water and drank. He then repeated the same motions when it was empty and drank that bowl dry. All without bothering to open his eyes. Which was the reason why when Max poked him in the back he nearly dropped the bowl on his foot. Luckily, Max's elven reflexes prevented that from happening.

"Fucker." Faramir growled as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Max only half-heartedly smiled as he placed the bowl on the counter and looked at Faramir.

"Love you too, sunshine."

Faramir scowled at him again, but said nothing when he noticed the nervous way that Max was tapping his fingers on the counter-top.

"What's up? Didn't get laid last night?" Faramir asked him, his voice still thick from sleep.

Max's angular face flushed pink at this, but he didn't reply to Faramir's question.

He stayed silent for a couple of minutes, debating whether he should actually tell him what Eowyn had told him when Aragorn showed up in the kitchen. Seeing the other human made Max's resolve harden.

"Mornin',." Aragorn mumbled as he too, took a bowl from the cupboard and filled it up with tap-water. He had just lifted the bowl to his lips when Max spoke up.

"I know who caused Boromir's accident."

Notes: I can honestly say that the drug reactions are what I have observed in people. It's damned funny and true. Same with the story about sex. I swear. It didn't happen to me, but I know the person that it happened to. Apart from that, everything is a mix of imagination, reality and observation. Bye bye.

Part 20: Left and Leaving

Notes: This part is really not for the faint of heart. It deals with loss, mental disorders, abuse of all kinds and rape. In case anyone is wondering, yes, part of this is semi-quasi-pseudo autobiographical. Read at your own risk.

Note 2: I'm sorry for any mistakes in the part. It's a long story about how that happened. Also, I got notice today that someone has been plagiarising this story. Do it again and I'm going to be more than rat pissed at you, got it? I worked my arse off on this story and I don't appreciate anyone stealing it and twisting it into a sick parody of the original. Now we can continue with the story.

"Memory will rust and erode into lists of all that you gave me:

some matches, a blanket, this pain in my chest, the best parts of Lonely,

duct-tape and soldered wires,

new words for old desires,

and every birthday card I threw away.

I wait in 4/4 time.

Count yellow highway lines

that you're relying on to lead you home." The Weakerthans

"I want to kill Danny. Yes I do. I really want to strangle him. Yes I do." Aragorn singsonged as he helped a practically insensate Boromir crawl under the covers of his bed.

Even though he was as happy as hell to have his lover finally in his bed, he hadn't been happy about the fact that Boromir could barely move on his own since he had a very poor shroom tolerance. So that had left Aragorn pretty much to do all the work of getting Boromir into his bed. The only bright spot he had seen to this was that Boromir wasn't stumbling on his feet or falling into doors like Orophin and Rumil had been.

"I want to know the name of his dealer, actually." Boromir muttered as Aragorn helped arrange his long limbs in the bed before crawling in himself.

"You would." his boyfriend muttered back as he rolled over and fiddled with the knobs of his stereo. He had never liked going to sleep without any music and he really was too lazy to get up and grab a cd from his bag, so he fiddled around and hoped that he would strike gold and find some interesting music or something.

"Fucken shit." He swore softly when he didn't find any good music on the radio.

"Turn it off then." Boromir replied, his voice soft as he rolled over and curled up in the blankets on the bed, leaving Aragorn with only a bit of covers to curl up in.

Noticing this, Aragorn shook his head and sighed in irritation. He loved Boromir with all his heart. Really. He did. But the blanket hogging was just something that he really, really, really had a problem with. He hated being cold and he hated coming awake in the middle of the night because his core body temperature was a little below freezing thanks to Boromir rolling himself up in the covers.

Frowning a bit, Aragorn leaned over and tugged the blankets free from under his boyfriend and pull them over himself.

"Sorry." Boromir apologized. Aragorn grunted and wrapped himself around him.

"Whatever." He buried his face into Boromir's hair and inhaled deeply, trying to take in the sweetish, tart scent of Mandarin Shampoo.

He missed inhaling that scent. It was like a physical ache to him sometimes, when he had rolled over in the night, expecting to have his face buried in a handful of mandarin scented silk and found nothing instead.

Even with Lee and Faramir lying beside him all those lonely nights hadn't been able to dispel that ache. The only way that it would disappear would be to have Boromir lying beside him.

He had a lot of sleepless nights ever since the accident occurred. At first they had been a product of worry over Boromir. Would he wake up? Would he be okay after he woke up? Those questions kept him awake for long stretches in the middle of the night until Boromir had finally woken up and driven those fears away. But the shadow of Boromir's possibly permanent injuries had then stepped into to give him even more sleepless nights.

Thinking of this, Aragorn couldn't help but to run his hands down Boromir's back. He and the others had been told that everything was being left up to chance. Although there were positive signs, things still could go one way or the other. The fear that Boromir would remain permanently crippled made Aragorn's fingers clench against the thin cotton of the other man's shirt. What would they do if that was to happen?

Shuddering, Aragorn pulled closer to Boromir, the intense emotions running through his body making the pain of having his hand crushed between their bodies inconsequential.

That was one thing that he and Boromir never touched. He followed the other man's lead in that way, ignoring the wheelchair and not really talking about the hospital or anything that pertained to his handicap. He had paused to think about it only once though, when he had asked himself whether they were doing this in a futile hope that if they didn't acknowledge the broken body, it would be healed. He had only stopped to harbour those thoughts once since everything had been fixed, he hadn't *wanted* to dwell on the shadows that he could feel still circling about.

But now, in the dark refuge of the bed, with sleep deserting him, his mind hadn't any recourse but to dwell on that spectre that clamped its cold hand on his shoulder and wouldn't let go.

Sighing, Aragorn moved away slightly and eased his hand out from the cramped space. He was going to roll over and wrestle with his unwelcome thoughts droning in his ears when the sudden urge to touch Boromir's bare back overcame him. He had often wondered, in the darkness of his room, how Boromir's skin would feel underneath his fingertips, yet he never had the opportunity to find out. Namely because he was either cursing the fates for having allowed Pippin to be able to reach the latch of Boromir's room, or he was too busy feeling like a schmuck when his boyfriend had inexplicably frozen up once things had promised to get *somewhere* between them. Unable to get the thought out of his head, Aragorn decided he was going to take the opportunity while it was there.

Smiling slightly, he slowly pushed his hand underneath Boromir's thin cotton t-shirt and had just begun to run his fingertips over the skin, enjoying the soft, velvety texture of the skin only to stop abruptly when his fingers touched thick scar tissue . Frowning, he smoothed his hand over the area and was stunned to feel even more tissue, some of it in lines, forming a pattern that he couldn't quite figure out. The rest seemed to be pooled in the middle of his back, forming a knot of hard tissue that made Aragorn shudder when his fingers lightly brushed it.

Frowning, Aragorn sat up and fumbled about for the switch in his bedside lamp. After knocking a few things off the table he was able to turn it on and have a small blueish pool of light bathing his side of the bed.

"Mmmm?" Boromir muttered, making Aragorn freeze like a startled deer. Shit. He'd better not wake up, Aragorn prayed silently. He'd better not wake up. These thoughts travelled through his head as he stayed completely still, waiting for Boromir to fully come awake and find him out. For some reason, the simple act of *looking* had taken on a strangely serious weight, which made the need for secrecy his utmost priority.

He watched the other man shift and turn in the bed, silently wishing that he wouldn't come awake until after he had taken a look at the tissue he had just felt. He watched him for several more minutes until he knew that he wouldn't move or stir awake before he carefully pulled the shirt up.

As the thin black cotton was pulled it up, Aragorn felt his fingertips suddenly become chilled. The icy feeling grew stronger when the cloth finally revealed what it had been hiding.

"Shit" Aragorn thought as the light hit the scars. They had felt horrible enough under his fingers. But once the light hit them, they had proven to be even worse than he had imagined.

The scars were all different shades. Some were the faint, shiny tan of old scars. Some were still the angry pink of recently healed tissue. Others were the deep, nasty dark purple of cuts that had gone past all layers of skin and gouged the muscle underneath.

The worst though, was seeing how they followed a pattern of sorts. He could now see, by pulling the shirt higher, the pattern that his fingers had perceived earlier.

It was a set of wings. Curving delicately from the middle of his spine outwards, the scars outlined the angel wings on Boromir's back. Even though they had been done with some skill, there were places were the knife, or razorblade has slipped, making a line curve wrong or wobble from its intended pattern. The tips were hidden and Aragorn suspected that if Boromir rolled over, he would be able to see them on the front.

The other scars formed a word. In what looked like angrily scratched out letters the word "Vicinum" stood out in purple and pink scar tissue. Aragorn let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding as the word stared at him in the face.

"The defeated friend." He murmured as he quelled the impulse to run his fingers over the scars. Why would Boromir carve that word into his skin? What kind of meaning did it have for him? Did it have something to do with Casey?

He shook his head. Although he was dying to shake Boromir awake and demand the answers to the questions that were bubbling up in his chest, he resisted the urge and instead settled for silence. He knew that if he did give into his impulse that he would only get garbled answers, or non-sequiturs at best. He knew that from experience that stoned people simply didn't formulate good answers to direct questions and as far as stoners went, Boromir was completely and thoroughly baked.

Smiling at the last thought, Aragorn was about to pull the shirt back down when he caught a glimpse of the last of the scars. It was an upside down cross. Or at least it would have been if it hadn't been for the shiny pink incision that elongated it so that the original pattern of the cross has all but become a parody of what it was intended to be.

That must have been left there from the operation, Aragorn muses, noticing the pink dots on either side of the incision. There are twelve of them, one on either side of the deep furrow. That was the collection of scar tissue that he had felt, he realizes. Even though the scars are distinct in the light, he can see how close together they are. That area is mostly scar tissue, with maybe a few spaces in between the tissue and smooth skin.

Ruined. He stamps and throttles the voice in his mind the minute that the word registers in his conscious mind.

He doesn't want to think that. He has never been one to calculate people's worth. To him, a person is simply a person, not something that has some kind of value like gold or money. That is why the fact that his mind called Boromir ruined make him feel the queasy emotions of betrayal. Even though the skin is imperfect, it shouldn't matter. He tries to convince himself of that, but he knows that he's just lying to himself. It does matter because the scars are self-inflicted.

He winces. It was true. That was the sole reason for it. If the scars had been accidental, he would have just felt pity and moved on. He wouldn't have given them anymore importance again. But they weren't.

Aragorn swallows and tries not to think about anything anymore. He needs something to dull the noise of his mind. He can't handle all the thoughts that the pot and the shrooms have loosened in his mind. He sighs softly. He was going to have to make the effort and get a cd from his bag. He didn't think he could handle his thoughts any longer. Biting his lip, Aragorn slowly pulled Boromir's t-shirt back down. It wouldn't do for him to freeze. Even if it was for a few minutes.

Moving carefully, he got out of the bed and gingerly made his way to the army rucksack that was his constant companion. Flipping the top open slightly, he then pulled out his cd wallet and began looking through it. Bouncing souls...didn't feel right at the moment...same with Me first and Linkin Park...Coldplay�eh...no. He wasn't ready to put on music that was going to make the voices in his head get even more morose and metaphysical.

He let out a small growl of frustration then. Why the hell did *picking* a fucken cd become such a dilemma? He shook his head. He was so not going to do drugs ever again. He frowned at that thought. Well...maybe not in the near future.

He flipped though a couple of cds until the scribbled, black line art of one caught his eye.

It was the "Screw you!! Stupid Aragorn!!"mix that Faramir had given him a few days before Christmas. He smiled at the title and pulled it out of the case. He still wasn't quite sure whether he should have been offended at the title of the cd. After all, Boromir and Legolas had received cds that said "Stupid Fuck" and "Jackass, look in the mirror", so he wasn't sure if that was just a latent lunacy of Faramir's finally letting itself be known.

Shaking his head, he then padded over to the stereo, he popped it in and pressed the shuffle button before adjusting the volume.

He knew that Boromir was a heavy sleeper, but there were elves in the house and due to living with Lee, he had first-hand knowledge of how light of sleepers they were as well as being notoriously bitchy if they were woken up. So he turned the volume to about a three, turned the light off and settled back into the warm cocoon of blankets and Boromir. He moved about a bit on the bed before finally finding that perfect spot. Closing his eyes, he then waited for the first notes of whatever random song the shuffle mode had decided would be the best to play at that time.

He had only heard the cd once, so he wasn't really sure what song followed what, So it was a total surprise to hear the beginning strains of New Order's "Bizarre Love Triangle."

"Every time I think of you

I feel shot right through with a bolt of blue

It's no problem of mine but it's a problem I find

Living a life that I can't leave behind

There's no sense in telling me

The wisdom of a fool won't set you free

But that's the way that it goes

And it's what nobody knows

While every day my confusion grows...."

He groaned as the first verse was done. Was everyone out there having a huge laugh at his expense or what? First it was his fucken head and then it was all the bloody emotions that rose up once he had looked at Boromir's back. It seemed like he was just doomed to stay awake and have his fucken ego and sub-conscious wage wars with each other until he was screaming for mercy. It sure sucked being border-line sometimes.

He was *so* totally going to kick Danny and Glor's arses in the morning. That's if his mind didn't crumble by then. He wants to get up and throw the fucken cd out the window at that point, but resisted the impulse since it *had* been a present. Besides, it wasn't as if Faramir had chosen the songs to purposely irk him. Plus, there was also the fact that it would be kind of hypocritical, since he was semi-involved in the same situation himself.

Aragorn groaned and rubbed his face with his hand. Why the hell couldn't he fall asleep?

"Every time I see you falling

I get down on my knees and pray

I'm waiting for that final moment

You'll say the words that I can't say..."

He growled softly at the soft singing before furiously punching the skip button. He didn't lay back down until a somewhat neutral song began to play.

"Mama, take this badge off of me

I can't use it anymore.

It's gettin' dark, too dark for me to see

I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door..."

He smiled mirthlessly in the dark. It wasn't as bad as the other song, but it still rubbed him raw. At least he could listen to it somewhat. It didn't bring up too many demons.

Besides, whatever demons it brought up, he had already dealt with in a psych ward.

His smile disappeared when he thought about that summer. It was true that he didn't remember much of it, but the little that he did remember was enough to chill him to the bone.

Aragorn curled himself into a ball, his arms over his head as he tried to beat back the memories that were trying to break the fences he had put around them.

Flashback

"Estel?" He blinked at the voice. He felt awful. He was thirsty. His head hurt. His arm hurt. His wrists hurt. He raised his head and looked down at his hands.

"What were you thinking?" He tore his gaze from the restraints that bit into his skin before meeting the angry dark blue eyes of his father. He shuddered a bit. Even after all the years he had been aware of his father, he still couldn't get over how similar the man was to him.

Arathorn Strider was a tall man, with the same, spare and wiry build as his son. He also had the same chiselled features and strong jaw-line as his son. The only difference between them was their colouring. Aragorn had inherited his mother's dark brown hair and dusky skin tone which made his dark sapphire eyes stand out against his skin. His father, on the other hand, had the startlingly cream skin and vivid copper hair that was perfectly suited for his eye colour. Both men were striking in their own way, but Aragorn was even more so due to the Spanish blood he had inherited from his mother.

Aragorn stared at him for a few more minutes before he closed his eyes. He was weary. He was hurting. He didn't care if his father was angry. Besides, it wasn't as if it was an unusual occurrence. His father was *always* angry and he didn't know why.

"Are you going to at least give me a reason for what you did?" The faintly accented voice demanded, but Aragorn remained silent. It wasn't that he wanted to be belligerent. Not at all. He really wanted to tell his father his reasons for everything that had happened. He really did. The only problem was that he had lost his speech.

He wasn't sure how it had happened. After all, he was screaming enough when he had found Gilraen in the bath, her pale body barely covered by the water that had been dyed with her blood. He had been screaming when Legolas had pulled him into his arms and forced him in an embrace. It was when he had woken up from the blackness he had pitched into head-first that he found his speech was gone.

That had been, according to Legolas, A month ago. He hadn't been able to speak another word since. No matter how hard he tried, the words simply wouldn't come.

He opened his eyes and looked at his father. And nearly cried.

His father was standing at the window now, his hands on the window-sill, clenching the edge so tightly that his knuckles were white. His head was bowed and his face was hidden by the long curtain of his hair. Aragorn knew that his father was crying, even though he couldn't hear the tears.

He had expected that. After all was said and done, Gilraen was his reason for living. Losing her had been hard enough on him. Having his son dancing on the edge of sanity would be enough to make a hard man like his father break.

"What happened, Estel? Why did it happen?" His father asked in a quietly broken voice.

Aragorn only stared at him. What could he say? Even if he had the words, there were no phrases left in any human language that he could shape and manipulate to explain something that simply defied explanation.

The room was silent for minutes on end, stretching out like honey being poured. But still, there was no answer. His father laughed slightly before he turned back to face him. His eyes were red, but there were no tears in them anymore. In fact, they were icy and cold, making Aragorn feel as if he had just stepped out into snow in his bare feet. He should have known that something was about to break. He should have been ready.

"Why did it have to be her?" his father asked, his voice ragged. "Why the hell couldn't it have been *you*?"

Aragorn waited until his father walked out of the room before crying.

End flashback

That was the most vivid memory he had from that time. He hated his mind sometimes.

When he was younger, he could block out many of the not so great memories.

//Liar// The small voice hissed in his head before he throttled it into submission. He sighed though. The voice was right. He hadn't always been adept at hiding all of the memories. Especially the ones that involved Gilraen.

He bit his hand. He didn't want to think about that particular one. He buried his face in his arms. He wouldn't think of it. He wouldn't.

He heard a low, drawn out moan in the dark. He wouldn't give in. He was cold. So very cold. Why were his hands still extremely cold? He curled up in an even tighter ball to stop the throbbing ache in his left shoulder and arm. It always did that, it seemed, when he thought about that day.

He only had vague impressions of it. He had allowed the years to mute the sights and sounds of that day until they were al most indecipherable from dreams or nightmares. He had always been skilful at keeping those memories of his mother at bay, but the drugs and maybe the music had begun to rip apart the skills he had crafted so well all those years ago.

He moaned again. The barriers were close to breaking and the closeness of it was hurting him almost physically. He closed his eyes, but opened them up again. The memories got stronger in the dark. His shoulder burned now. An angry, throbbing burning. Just like it did that day all those years ago. He choked back a sob of pain. It hurt so much! Aragorn bit his lip when he felt another moan rising in his throat. How long was this going to go on?

He grabbed at his shoulder, not caring that his nails were practically gouging the skin. He didn't think he was going to survive the night. He bit his lip even harder this time, not caring that he was tasting blood. He needed everything he could use to ride out the slow unravelling of his mind. Blood, scratches, anything would help in keeping his sanity. Screw the consequences. There was nothing else. There was simply nothing else.

He was drowning. And there was no one that could pull him out.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was all Boromir could do not to scream when he had felt the cold fingers on his back. He had been woken up from a deep, dreamless sleep only to feel someone's fingers on his back, tracing the patterns his scars made.

He had been close to attacking whoever had been at his back, but a fresh scent, like spring rain, had hit his nose.

"Estel" He thought with relief. His lover must have dragged him to bed sometime in the night, he guessed. He had been really fucked up due to the drugs, so much so that he didn't remember much of *anything* after he had taken a bite of the brownie his dad had given him.

Reaching that conclusion, Boromir had relaxed his tense muscles and let Aragorn run his fingers over the scars. He had lain still because...because he didn't want to see Aragorn's face. He didn't want to think about the expression in the dark blue eyes as he took in the extent of the damage.

He knew that there would be mixed pity and revulsion in the sapphire depths as they took in the scar tissue. He had seen the same kind of look when Faramir had forgotten about his arms and worn T-shirts in public. He was pretty sure that at one time *he* had had the same look on his face when they had been revealed to him.

He had also lain still because he had enjoyed the feel of hands on his back. He craved touch, and had missed it terribly when he was in the hospital. Nurses and doctors didn't count. So he had laid back and enjoyed it, feeling slightly sorry once it had stopped. He thought Aragorn would have gone to sleep afterwards, but he had been proven wrong when his lover had got out of bed and found a CD to pop into the stereo.

Once the music had started and the soft bluish light had been turned off, Boromir then wondered about this quirk that Aragorn had about playing music right before he got to sleep. He didn't mind it, but he found it odd. Odd in that it didn't fit with his personality.

Although he didn't want to presume that he knew Aragorn inside out, he prided himself on knowing the man fairly well. After all, they had spent quite a bit of time together. Enough for him to know that there were deep secrets hidden behind the nice boy facade.

He didn't know when he got that impression. At first, he had been overwhelmed by the sheer niceness of the guy not to notice. But maybe it was the time apart and the whole thing with Lee and his brother that had allowed that impression to deepen.

It had been a gradual thing, this impression. If he hadn't been looking for clues, he wouldn't have felt that way. But either he was learning to open his eyes, or Aragorn subconsciously was dropping hints here and there for him to find out.

The music was the oldest, but the most blatant one. He hadn't thought about it before since it was just a quirk. Many people had them. It didn't matter. He hadn't noticed how odd it was until Legolas had commented on Aragorn needing music to sleep.

Flashback

"He's going to like this." Lee had said happily as he wrapped up the latest Dropkicks CD he had bought for Aragorn.

"Shit man. Isn't that like the what? Ninth CD we've wrapped up for Aragorn?"

Boromir commented as he wrapped up the New Order CD he had gotten for his lover.

"Yeah, but that's all he asks for. I think Faramir burned him a CD and got him a few books as well, but everyone else knows that CD's are the way to go with him." Legolas explained as he carefully taped the present together before sticking a bow on top.

"Shit, if that's the case he must have close to a thousand CD's then." Boromir said as he messed around with the foil ribbon he was fixing on top of the CD.

"He hasn't been asking for music for that long, Seb!" Lee laughed.

Boromir's eyes narrowed. "When did he start, then?"

"About the time he turned fourteen, I think. I'm not quite sure. I came to live with him when we were about fifteen? I can't remember." He frowned. " A lot of things were happening at that time. I couldn't keep track of them. That year was really fussy for me."

Boromir frowned then. "Weird. The funny thing si that I barely see him listening to music though. Hell, I don't even *think* he owns a discman."

Lee laughed. "He listens to music, but at night. It's his bedtime ritual." The elf shook his head then. "It reminds me, to tell you the truth, of old superstitions. Kind of like when you put garlic above your door to keep the evil spirits out."

Boromir's lips had twitched then. The thought of garlic above a door had struck him as ridiculously amusing and he couldn't help but to laugh at it for five minutes before getting back to wrapping the presents.

End Flashback

He had, for obvious reason, pushed that conversation to the back of his mind. The strains of New Order had jarred it loose and pushed it to the forefront of his mind at that moment.

The other hints he began to get were how Aragorn wouldn't stand too close to a stove whenever he or anyone was cooking. He was smooth about hiding it, but there were times that he had seen the slips. He also never took baths, preferring to use showers instead. That tidbit of information he had gotten from Lee, who had mentioned it in passing in a conversation.

The last thing was the pills he had seen in the kitchen cabinet. He hadn't been able to catch anymore than a glimpse of them, but it had been enough for him to see Aragorn's name on them and half of the medication name on the label. Burtin something.

He had pushed all of these things deep in his mind. After all, he had his own secrets he wanted to keep from Aragorn. It would have been hypocritical of him if he had begun to pry when he wasn't ready to come clean about his past.

His thoughts were jarred when Aragorn hit the switch button and New Order was abruptly stopped and replaced by Dylan's caterwauling. He smiled when he heard the words. It was an okay song, but he preferred "She belongs to me" or "Changing of the guards" himself.

Shrugging, he was about to attempt to fall asleep when the shifting around behind him dispelled that notion. Was Aragorn having a nightmare? He asked himself, fear uncoiling itself in his belly as his body tensed up as he listened.

The fear got worse when the moans began. Abrupt, drawn out and loaded with pain, they echoed and re-echoed through the darkness of the room. He swallowed hard. What the hell was Aragorn dreaming about?

He turned then and faced his lover. And cursed the darkness, since all he could make out was an impression of Aragorn huddled up into himself. This wasn't good. He was going to have to act fast.

A choked sob sounded out in the night when Boromir reached out to Aragorn. He came in contact with some part of Aragorn's body, only to draw away his hand when he touched a wet, sticky substance.

"Aragorn? Aragorn? Shit!" Boromir reached over the huddled figure and fought with the switch of the small lamp for what seemed an eternity before the blue light clicked on.

"Aragorn? What's wrong? Aragorn? Why did you do this?" Boromir asked, his voice low as he took in the ragged, bloody bite marks that decorated his left hand. His right was clutching so hard at his left shoulder that the knuckles were completely white, making Boromir wonder briefly if he was going to be able to pry the fingers from the shoulder.

Aragorn didn't reply though, he just closed his eyes and burrowed into Boromir's chest.

Although he wanted answers, he knew that they wouldn't come at that particular time.

Something had really fucked with Aragorn. Something that was going to have to be exorcised before any answers were forthcoming. But how?

Boromir swallowed hard. His own demons were bad enough to deal with. He seriously wondered how he was going to deal with Aragorn's on top of everything else.

He thought that because he was scared of fucking Aragorn up. He was under no illusion as to how messed he was. He knew how close he toed the line between sane and insane and that knowledge made him leery of taking on the task of fixing Aragorn up now that he had been spooked.

As he pondered the best course of action to take, he wrapped his arms around the other man and carefully stroked the man's hair to soothe him. Lee had always responded well to that, so he figured that it wouldn't hurt to try it with Aragorn.

He lay there, stroking Aragorn's hair for several minutes, not really registering the lyrics of the Cure song playing when a soft voice broke his thoughts.

"I went crazy like this before."

Boromir blinked at the flat tone that the words had been delivered in.

"What?"

Aragorn raised his head and looked at Boromir. "I went crazy. Just like my mother." The words were flat and succinct, which made Boromir blink at the tone of them.

"I'm not sure I'm following you mate."

Aragorn smiled, chilling Boromir to the bone. He had seen that not quite sane grin on Thom Yorke before he had nearly gutted a guy in a street fight. He had only seen it once and once had been enough for him to silently pray that he'd never see it again. It looked like he was going to have a nice chat with God regarding the unanswered prayers.

"Yeah. Sorry I forgot to mention that earlier. It's kind of difficult to bring up that kind of information up in a conversation. 'Hey, how you doing, my mother was an insane psycho-bitch from hell and my dad is a fucken bastard. So how's the weather?' Wouldn't really get you that far in a lot of places." Aragorn chuckled at the poor joke and Boromir only stared. Shit and he thought he had a twisted sense of humour.

Aragorn got off of him and sat up on the bed, his eyes fixed on the neo-romantic print hanging on the opposite wall as he began to tell his tale.

"I was planning on telling you this earlier, but well..."He snorted. Boromir laughed softly.

"Well, things went to hell, if that's what you're getting at." Boromir supplied.

"Uhm�.Yeah. Well, the point is that I kind of glossed over my past. Hell, not even Legolas knows half of the shit that went on in this house." He shivered as he spoke.

"My father hates me, for one thing. See, he wanted lots and lots of kids. But when I was born, there were a lot of problems. I was fine, but my mom just got really sick. I don't know what happened, but I know that I was the only kid they were ever going to have. I don't think my father ever forgave me for that." He laughed bitterly at that.

"But he learned to live with it. He probably wouldn't have minded if it wasn't for the fact that my mom started to fade. Her mind just broke when it came to raising a child. According to my Aunt Imogen, she was little more than a baby herself when she had me. She couldn't take it, but she hid it well. Until I turned ten. That was when she started falling completely apart." He fell silent then, recalling how it was at that time. Coming home to a mess and finding his mother sitting in a shower fully dressed, cutting out paper dolls as if nothing was wrong. Washing his clothes in the sink because he didn't know how to work the washing machine. Picking up the broken dishes from the kitchen before his father came home and blamed the mess on him. Waking up in the middle of the night to find her sitting on the footboard like an overgrown bat, watching him with her black eyes until he screamed for help only to have her throw a tantrum as his father dragged her away.

"My dad finally put her in a hospital. I went to school. She stayed there for three years and my Aunt moved into our house." He didn't add that those had been the most stable years in his life. Even though his mother was a stranger to him, he felt vaguely guilty voicing that relief he had felt at her having being replaced by his Aunt Rosario. He suspected his father also felt the same way, but there was no way in hell he would ever say that. Not unless he wanted to spit out a couple of teeth, that was.

"She came back when I was fourteen and I honestly thought things were going to be okay. I thought she had been cured of whatever it was that made her act crazy. I was wrong."

He laughed softly before he turned to Boromir. Smirking slightly, he then pulled off the long-sleeved t-shirt he wore to bed and tossed it in the corner of his room.

Boromir valiantly tried to stifle the involuntary gasp that escaped from his lips, but failed miserably. Even though he had seen a lot of shit in his life-time, the sight before him was enough to make him want to be sick.

Aragorn's left shoulder was covered in scar tissue that stretched from the base of his neck all the way down to his nipple on his chest. His arm hadn't been spared either. It was covered in dribbles of scars that ended just above the elbow. It was all shiny and slightly puckered, the way burn scars are, indicating that it was nearly close to being fully healed.

"What happened?" Boromir asked, his voice soft as he hesitantly reached out to touch the scars.

Part of him didn't want to do it. Part of him felt both horrified and angry at the wanton damage that was on display before him. The other part of him was numb, just quietly taking it in. Studying it as detachedly as if it was a piece of art on display in front of him.

He reached out and trailed his fingers lightly over the scars. They weren't thick and grainy like his or Faramir's. They were softer than the rest of the skin. And sensitive, he realized when Aragorn shivered underneath the touch.

Aragorn's eyes were half-lidded and his mouth was still curled up in that smirk, making Boromir wonder if Aragorn was planning to jump him rather than continue the conversation. He was silent for a few moments before finally continuing.

"I came home that day, expecting my Aunt to be there. But she wasn't. My mother was there instead. She was standing in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables."

Aragorn swallowed at the dryness in his throat. He could still see her. No matter how hard he tried to obliterate that memory, it was still there. He could recall even the smallest detail of that day: The way the sun was shining in through the window, the way it shone upon her black hair, bringing out the brown highlights in it. Her smile as she looked up from her task and saw him standing in the doorway. Those memories were worse than what followed next, in his opinion.

"She was making supper for father and I. I didn't want to stay near her, but she insisted I talk to her while she cooked. I wanted to run at first. To stay away from her. Because I was afraid of her. But lord help me. I stayed." Aragorn shook his head before closing his eyes. He didn't want to see Boromir's expression when he told him the next part.

"I don't know what caused it. One minute I was telling her about my day as I was fetching the spaghetti and the next thing I knew she was grabbing my hair and screaming at me. Calling me names. I didn't understand what she called me, since she had forgotten her English. She started hitting me and cursing me. By that time, I had freaked out. I had had enough. I pushed her away from me and ran for it."

He rubbed at his eyes before he continued. He wasn't going to cry.

"Before I could get away, she threw the pot of boiling water at me. If I had only been a bit faster it would have been harmless. But I wasn't." He finished, proud that he had managed to tell the story without breaking down. "It was a good thing that my Aunt came ten minutes later. I had locked myself in my room and mother was clawing at the door. A few times I could hear the dull thunk of a knife. I was hiding in my closet and I wouldn't come out of it. In fact, I don't even know how they got me out. The next thing I remembered was lying in the hospital with my Aunt Imogen sitting beside me."

"What happened to *her*?" Boromir asked, his voice pitched low as he spoke.

"She got put back in the hospital and I got sent off to England with my Aunt Imogen. I finished my middle school there and came back in time to be enrolled in the Mackenzie Academy. No one, not the Rohans or the Rivendells will tell you about that time.

My dad kept it all real quiet. I still hung out with them, but I never told them why I was gone or why had ended up in Mackenzie."

Boromir frowned. Why the hell had Aragorn been put in Mac? That school was nothing more than a boot camp for the armed forces. And also a last ditch resort for the unmanageable kids no one wanted.

"Did your dad hate you that much to put you in that shit-hole?"

Aragorn's lips twitched in a bitter smirk. "I think so. It didn't matter. I got bailed out due to my grades and the fact that they couldn't keep me there for more than half a day."

Boromir laughed softly. "How did you manage that? I heard that place has cameras and all other bunch of security shit all over the place."

Aragorn shook his head. "Legolas."

Boromir snorted. "I should have known. That guy can give Duo Maxwell a run for his money in the lock-picking and scamming department."

"No kidding. He would let me out, or scam me out. When my grades finally came through, my father was furious, but he moved me and Legolas to St. Ig's."

Aragorn rubbed his face with both hands then. He couldn't describe the sheer relief he had felt at being released from Mackenzie. Even though it had been close to two years since he had been there, he could still recall the drab olive and beige walls, the cadet uniforms and the fear that swept over him every time he would be out in the halls. He had never really articulated his relief to Legolas for springing him out every chance he got, but he was sure that the elf knew how much the escapes had meant to him.

"Speaking of the elf, how did you guys end up being brothers? You dropped hints of it, but you never really explained how that happened."

Aragorn made a face. "I never told you?" Boromir shook his head.

"Ah. Well. See, my mother was Legolas' godmother and it was just understood that if anything happened to his parents that he would be legally adopted into the Strider family. But as you know what happened, and my father was away and Legolas himself had disappeared...things didn't get straightened out until we were in our second year of high school."

Boromir nodded, running his hand through his hair, suddenly realizing that he was perfectly sober from all the revelations he had just been privy to. The feeling�was odd. It also brought back the unpleasant feelings of abandonment that had risen the first time he had been torn away from the Sindarian elf.

"I was...relieved to have Legolas with me. I was alone for most the time after mother tried to kill me. He's not that older than us, but he made me feel*safe*. I think if it hadn't been for him, I would have probably ended up more messed up than I was at that time." Aragorn shrugged and began twisting a lock of hair around his finger. "So that was how things were. We went to school, we got bullied into going out with Arwen and Eowyn...etc., etc�Then mother came home. Father was going to put her in a different hospital and for some stupid reason, my aunt and father decided that it wouldn't hurt to have her spend some time at home. After all, she was doped up to the nines and I had grown enough so that she didn't remember me."

He pulled the lock of hair taut and examined it carefully while Boromir simply watched.

"She was only supposed to be here for two, maybe three days at the most. And I did my damned best to stay away from her during those times. Most of us didn't bother going to school. After we had finished writing exams, we all pretty much skipped and holed ourselves up in Glor's house and did fuck all or drink ourselves silly. I wouldn't come home until I knew that she was asleep and had her door locked. I valued my skin that much."

He gave a bitter snort of derision and mentally cursed himself when he found his hands were shaking ever so slightly. This was the part that he still had problems speaking about.

"I was going to take a shower. Eowyn had spilled lemonade on my hair and it was all sticky and matted to one side. It was in my face, that was why I didn't notice the bath-tub..." His narrative broke off. He couldn't seem to get enough air to breathe, never mind speak. He shut his mouth and took a couple of deep breaths. Damn. He could actually taste the acrid-ness of blood-soaked air. He swallowed and took several deep breaths before continuing.

"I pushed it away and looked. Then I screamed and screamed until Legolas carried me from the bathroom and held me until I had screamed myself hoarse."

His hands were shaking. He wrapped them around his body and continued. "She...she...she was lying in the bath-tub. The water was dark red, spilling out on the floor. Her wrists had these huge fucken slashes. I could see the bone in them. The worst was her hair! It was floating in the water, moving and coiling like it was alive!"

His voice had risen in pitch, and tears had begun to dribble down his face. His body was shaking and his fingernails were digging into his ribs.

"Aragorn...You don't have to..." Boromir reached out in an effort to comfort the distraught man, but Aragorn backed away, his eyes wide and wild.

"Her hair�it curled and waved in the water, like some kind of weed. Her face was under the water and it was all�white�and pale. It was like seeing it through a filter, the skin was dyed by the bloody water..." He shuddered and he began to rock back and forth, his words tumbling out, tripping out over each other as he spoke.

"I didn't see anything else after that. Legolas wouldn't let me. He kept me away from it all as he helped my aunt and my father with�the arrangements. I don't remember what happened after that. I�I... I blacked out. The next thing I remember after that was standing on the roof of my father's office building looking down. I think it was the dreams that drove me there. I used to dream about finding my mother over and over again. But in the dream, her eyes would open. And instead of being black, they were red. She would also rise up from the water and try to strangle me. I stopped sleeping after that."

Aragorn's mouth curled up a bit when he heard Boromir inhale sharply. "Yeah... I think I tried to kill myself...I don't know. Nothing sticks from that time. Or I have tried to make it not stick. I spent the last summer in George VI's psych ward. It wasn't fun."

He laughed hollowly, remembering how he had felt when he had finally come to his senses. Once again, he was thankful that Legolas and his Aunt Imogen were a pair of skilled bull-shitters.

"I was restrained for the first week and then my father came and told me he hated me outright. He then arranged for money and the house to be transferred to me and Lee and took off with my aunt to Spain. I was mentally gone for the rest of the summer. It wasn't until mid August that I came back. I was fine. They had to let me go. Gave me pills, but I don't take them. They make me numb. I didn't want to live like that."

Boromir snorted before giving a bitter laugh at that. "They sure love giving pills don't they? They think that Lithium is going to cure practically everything that is broken inside your head. But the problem is that when it comes to people like us, it's not our heads that are messed up, it's our fucken souls."

Aragorn made a small noise and Boromir shrugged. He was tired. He didn't know what else to say. It was some pretty heavy shit he had just gotten thrown. He rubbed his eyes. They felt gritty from lack of sleep. He made a mental note not to get into these kind of life-changing conversations unless he had gotten at least four hours of sleep at the max. These things were too heavy to deal with on only a few hours of moments of sleep.

"Boromir?" he stopped rubbing his eyes and looked up.

"What?" He asked, wondering if he'd be able to function on this little sleep when morning came. That was if it ever would come.

"You probably think I'm really fucked up now, don't you?"

Boromir pinched the bridge of his nose before he looked at Aragorn, who was sitting huddled at the foot of the bed, those dark blue eyes unwaveringly on Boromir. He had to look away. The eyes were getting to him.

"No. I don't think so. There were hints that things weren't all right with you." Boromir told him, his voice even as he spoke. "Not that you're obvious about it, but I kind of guessed. Besides, even if you are, why should it matter? I'm about as fucked up as you are."

"Will you tell me about it?" Aragorn asked, his voice soft as he spoke.

"You want to hear it right now?" Boromir asked, suddenly feeling uneasy. Sure, it would be cathartic. Hell, he knew that it was going to come to this soon. But after the bloody and heavily emotional confession from Aragorn, he wasn't really sure if it was a wise idea to open up more old wounds that night.

"Sure. Might as well get everything over with all at once." Aragorn replied, a ghost of a smile in his voice. Boromir shook his head. Damn.

There was silence for several moments before Boromir finally started speaking.

"Okay. My mother was like fourteen when she had me. Sixteen or so when she had Faramir. My dad was supposedly some kind of German soldier or something. He could have been Larry Mullen Jr for all I know."

Aragorn sort of snickered at that, making Boromir smile. So far so good.

"Yeah. We lived in France for five�six years maybe? I hated it. Our neighbours hated us. They called my mother a whore. I fought to protect my mother and my brother. But then my mother died. They said it was cancer. I don't know. We got shipped off to my grandmother. She was cool. But then she died on us. I was starting to wonder whether we were like the angels of death. It was from her I found out why my father never stuck around. Seems he died in the bloody Falklands." Boromir snorted and shook his head.

"Don't ask me how that happened. It just did. It didn't matter though. We were about six or seven years too late anyways. I don't know. Don't care. The only thing that mattered to me at that time was taking care of Faramir. We had no one to turn to, so we had to fend for ourselves."

Boromir looked at Aragorn and cocked an eyebrow in stark amusement. "We lived on the streets for about six, maybe seven months. I don't know for sure. We hid in the back-alleys of Chinatown until it got too cold to stay out. I would have risked it, but Faramir got sick. Then an elf found us."

"Legolas?" Aragorn asked softly.

"Yeah. He took us in, even though it was a fucken war zone in his house, with his dad and his brothers going at it all hours of the night. I never forgot that. How he helped us. But that was such a brief respite. His dad died and his brothers didn't want to be bothered with Lee or us. So we ended up first at St. Joachim Orphanage under Father Maxwell and Father Sanzo. That was were we met all of the friends we have now. Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton, Catherine, Sally, Zechs, Yohji, Ken and the others. We all were the rejects of society. We all belonged to no one. There, we belonged. We watched each other's backs and we asked for nothing more than the security that love brought. Nothing else and nothing more."

"But of course, shit always happens. Yohji, Lee and I, we were just angry. Bitter and confused and we ended up running amok with Thom Yorke. We got into fights, busted up cars and windows, just got into everything. The shit didn't hit the fan until we all got charged with inciting a riot."

Aragorn's widen at this. "You...hang on...it was YOU guys that started the Ross-Troy Riot?"

Boromir couldn't help but to smirk at the incredulous tone in which the words are spoken.

"You guys...you were like what? Thirteen?" Aragorn asked. He dimly remembered that huge fight. After all, it had been on the news for about four days straight, since it took the cops about two days to actually get the situation under control. He never would have believed that his gentle brother and his quietly sardonic boyfriend had been at the bottom of that wild pitched fight between Alexander Ross and Fr. Michael Troy Junior highs.

Boromir laughed softly. "Try eleven.

"I told you we were bad. But yeah. It was us. Got us like four months in a group home, were we got into *yet* even more fights. It was a mad time. Having Thom by your side always guarantees that. I was this close though, to getting my arse booted into Juvie when the Lothloriens took us in. Lee and Yohji got sent back to the orphanage."

"I feel sorry for them. They had to put up with me being such a bitter little prick. It was true that I would see Lee and Yohji at school, but it rankled being torn away from all of the people at the orphanage. I was angry for a long time. Faramir was placed in the middle, since he truly warmed up to the Lothloriens right away, but he was loyal to me and didn't dare risk my disfavour. It wasn't until Celly started working at me that I finally...learned to let things go. I stopped being angry all the time. She was the one that fully let me live. At that time, I wasn't my own master. I was living for everyone else. I protected everyone else and forgot about myself."

Aragorn swallowed hard. He honestly couldn't imagine Boromir being that way. Nor could he picture him a hard man, not letting anything go, holding everything in to use for the next fight. He just couldn't.

"Don't get me wrong, I didn't turn into an angel overnight. I still fought anyone that dared to pick on my friends or anyone I had on my protection list. I still told the teachers to fuck off, and I still took my little holidays from school. They tolerated these things because�well...I was their prized possession. I don't know how far the rumours got, but my marks were high enough that I could get away with anything."

"Anything?" Aragorn asked, his soft voice failing to deflect the mischief apparent in his eyes.

Boromir grinned a bit shame-facedly. "Who told you about the car?"

Aragorn laughed gleefully, making Boromir swear softly. He had just fallen for the oldest trick in the book!

"Bastard." he punched Aragorn, but it was a half-hearted punch, not meant to hurt.

"Yeah. The car. Who could resist? It was right there, the door open and the keys in the ignition. Not to mention the fact that Thom Yorke was right beside me AND it was the principal's car. I was just too good to pass up."

Aragorn grinned. Albeit a bit wobbly, but he was grinning. "So what happened to the car?"

"Nothing! I swear! If it got scratched it was because Faramir didn't know how to parallel park back then!" Boromir protested indignantly.

"But of course, we all got blamed for it. Blah blah blah. After that we got the curfew and that bastard Saruman nosing in practically every aspect of our lives. I learnt to live with the restrictions and it stopped bothering me much. After all, by this time, I was on my way out of St. Kilda's. I got put in St. Victorie along with Lee. We had no clue what we were in for. The school was middle-class and full of snobs. I hated it, but I was tired of fighting. I wanted to give it a shot. Stay out of trouble just that once."

His hands curled into fists in his lap, but his voice was still the same even cadence as before, not showing Aragorn the inner turmoil he was going through at that moment.

"I nearly succeeded. After all, I was consumed with worry over Faramir's illness. I knew that encephalitis wasn't fatal, but..."

He shook his head, the simple action speaking volumes about his worry. "I got scared. Lee was there. I don't think I would have made it through the summer if it hadn't been for him being there. Man...I owe him a lot. Him and the Lothloriens."

He fell silent abruptly, his eyes glazing over as he stared at something that only he could see, making Aragorn feel a bit nervous at the reaction.

There was that horrible silence again. The kind that made him feel like there was a barrier between them. A barrier that he couldn't break no matter what he did.

"I went to St. Vic's, not expecting much. Certainly not expecting a High half-Sprite to want me, that's for sure. Caserion Juutannen Masen."

At the name, Aragorn's own hands curled up in his lap. He still wanted to have a piece of that bastard. Even though he had gotten the best out of the last fight, he still ached to smash that beautiful face and wipe the snide grin from it for ever.

"Yeah. I admit that I was quite taken by him. The violet eyes, I think. The manners too. He actually treated me like a human being rather than some boogeyman or trash. He had me, body, heart and soul. " Boromir laughed, but this time, his laugh was both bitter and harsh.

"Yeah..despite how tough I was, I was still just a dumb kid looking for someone to love me. I lied to myself when things started to go wrong." He fell silent, remembering how it had hurt to put on a brave front whenever the rumours started. He had wanted, just for once, to feel safe in someone's arms. To feel taken care of rather than the other way around. He didn't want for the fairy-tale to be over. So he pretended that nothing was changing between them. Even when Casey stopped talking to him at school, he wouldn't let go of that dream. They were still together. Casey was still smiling at him with those violet eyes. He was still touching him tenderly, still talking to him that honeyed voice that he later learned to hate the sound of.

"I probably would have tried to keep it going longer than it did. Hell, after two months I knew I was beating a dead horse, but it was too hard to let go of him. Until I walked in on him shagging some girl in the boys bathroom."

Aragorn hissed. "Classy." was all he spat out. He was afraid that if he said anything more he would just end up ranting and raving and needing to smash Casey to a bloody pulp even more than ever.

"No kidding." Boromir agreed, his mouth curling up into a brittle smile even he could feel was fake. Even though it was probably for the best, he still couldn't help but to still feel the faint ache of loss. Casey had been the first person that he had fallen deeply in love for. No matter what, that aspect of their relationship would never change.

"I was pissed right off. I told him to not ever come near me for as long as he lived. He left me alone for two days before he cornered me in the drama room. He pressed himself against me, pinning me against the wall while he ran his fingers through my hair. I tried to push him away, but he was stronger than expected. He kept murmuring how he loved me and how I belonged to him. I told him to fuck off and tried to get him off me."

Boromir's eyes closed as the events unfolded in his mind again. He had remembered bits and pieces of it, but some parts were lost. He never tried to get them back. He was content to have the black holes in his memory.

"He must have locked the door, since no one came in. I tried screaming, tried fighting back. Tried everything. But nothing worked. He was stronger than me. Faster. He pinned me down and I was furious. I kicked and scratched, but he just laughed at me. It didn't faze him a bit. He just gave me this look before he started ripping at my clothes. That totally freaked me out and I got a good shot in. He let go of me and I ran to the door, even though I knew it was locked, I had to try it anyway. That was when he caught me again. He grabbed my hair and pulled me down to the floor. I didn't fight back."

His voice had fallen to a harsh whisper and Aragorn wanted to reach out and touch him, offer him a bit of comfort, but Boromir shied away from his touch. He still could feel Casey's hands on him, his weight on him as he raped him, the scent of him, the sound of his voice as he taunted him.

He needed a glass of water now. Even though he knew he was imagining the taste of acrid blood and cum in his mouth, he needed the water. But he couldn't ask for it at that time. He needed to tell him about everything.

"After�he was�done, he made me give him head until I threw up on him. He kicked me a few times then before he left me there. I don't know how I got home. Only that I did. I avoided him for the rest of the week, but we fought. I beat him, but my heart wasn't in it. It was a hollow victory, but I didn't say anything to anyone about that.

"Things eventually calmed down, I started seeing Lee, but the nightmares started. I would push them away, but they would come. I hid that anything was wrong though. But it eventually got to be too much. Especially after I slept with Lee. I loved him, but I had to be practically out of my mind to get enough courage to sleep with him. But in the end, it wasn't enough.

"I was just...falling apart. I couldn't take anything anymore. At first, I cut my hair, but then that didn't work, I just took the razor and slashed my wrists open until I passed out from all the blood."

Aragorn clenched his hands tightly. Even though he desperately wanted to reach out and cradle Boromir in his arms, he was afraid that he would do more damage than help. So he sat there and watched as Boromir furiously rubbed at his eyes, trying to scrub away the tears that had begun to slide down his face.

He got off the bed and went to the window. It wasn't that he was turning his back on Boromir. Rather, he was giving him time to collect himself. Even though he had somewhat been comfortable in showing his weakness, he knew that Boromir probably wouldn't be as comfortable if he was in his place. So he waited until he knew that Boromir wouldn't push him away if he tried to offer him any kind of comfort.

"Estel?" The name was spoken in a voice so soft that if he hadn't been straining to hear he would have missed it.

Aragorn went back to the bed, his expression neutral as he sat down next to Boromir, who was now huddled up in a small ball on the bed, the blankets covering practically all of him.

"I'm sorry." Boromir whispered before burrowing further in his blankets.

Aragorn was stunned. Why did Boromir feel like he had to apologize to him?

"Wha...? Why...why should you be sorry?"

"Cause I wasn't what you thought I was. Cause I wasn't strong enough to fight him off. Cause I am not strong enough to protect you."

Aragorn bit his lip. God love the man. If he wasn't head over heels crazy in love with him he would surely give him a good thwap and a shake for good measure.

"Boromir...I love you. I'll love you no matter what happens. I'm not lying here man. If I didn't care for you, I would have taken the chance you offered me in the hospital."

Boromir's shoulders tensed. Busted.

"Yeah. I could have walked away, but I chose not to. Simply because I knew then, and I know now, that I love you. Just you. I don't love you for anything that you can do for me, or anything that you may be. I love you just for you. Nothing more and nothing less."

He fell silent then, as he reached out and ran his hand through Boromir's long hair. "That was why I got pissed at you in the first place. I don't want anyone to protect me. I know life sucks, but I'll deal with it. Just like you dealt with all the shit life threw at you. I don't want a prince. I just want someone to love."

Boromir shifted a bit in the bed before turning to look at Aragorn.

"I...I'm�" Boromir tried to apologize, but Aragorn placed a finger on his lips to silence him.

"If you apologize one more time, I swear I'm going to deck you one!" Aragorn told him, his voice taking a slight edge that Boromir wasn't sure he wanted to find out whether it was real or not.

They stared at each other for what seemed ages, but in reality was just moments before Aragorn crawled under the covers and rolled over onto his side, still keeping a good distance between himself and Boromir.

Although he was burning to touch him, hold him...do anything...but he also didn't want to scare him either. Or worse, make him feel an obligation to submit to him.

He didn't want that. He had felt like shit when Boromir had done it in the past, just laid there with his face carefully neutral, or hidden from him.

Boromir had gone through a lot of shit in his life. He didn't want to add anymore misery to it. Even if his libido was going to kill him for it, he was not going to make any moves until he was sure that Boromir was cool with intimacy.

Deciding that this was the best course of action, Aragorn burrowed deeper into the blankets, fully intent on falling asleep despite his body's desires when he felt Boromir's hand caressing his face and hair lightly.

"Boromir?" He was confused. "Wha�.mppphmmphh!" His next question was cut off my a pair of soft, warm lips pressing down on his own.

He had wanted to resist the seduction. After all, it would have been for the best if they didn't start anything so soon after being so emotionally raw. But as soon as that warm tongue forcefully pried his lips open and snaked into his mouth, his mind had suddenly taken a left turn at Helsinki, allowing him to sink into the pleasures that Boromir was providing him.

He pulled closer to Boromir then, wanting to melt within the other man as their kiss deepened in intensity. It was true that they had kissed before, and he had been a recipient of Faramir's kisses, they barely compared to the kisses he was receiving at that moment.

The kiss was broken off suddenly, making Aragorn want to moan in protest. But that thought was cut short when the kisses returned, this time to his neck. He did moan when he felt the hot mouth pressing scorching kisses down his throat, down to the juncture of his collarbone and onto his chest. He was gasping for air and clutching at Boromir's hair when the feel of a warm mouth on his left nipple nearly destroyed him.

The scarred side of his chest was terribly sensitive. If anyone touched him the wrong way, he would get all excited. He used to see it as a curse, since a small brush of a fingertip would make thunderbolts reach his groin in .5 seconds. (Not that he had time it or anything, but it sure felt like it didn't take that long for his mind to become a gooey starved mass of sex)

He yowled. There was no other word for the noise that erupted from his throat when Boromir began to tease his nipple and the skin around it with his tongue.

He was hissing then. His groin felt like it was on fire. Boromir must have been a magician of sorts if he could elicit such a reaction from him. Even Faramir, with his earnest touches, hadn't been able to make him feel like he was on fire.

The heat in his limbs intensified when Boromir moved down further. Even though he didn't move smoothly, the jagged trails of saliva he left down his chest and belly made the heat intensify ten-fold. His mouth opened and closed, moans and gasps erupted from his throat. God. The man was good.

But it wasn't fair for him to take all of the pleasure and give none back, he rationalized. There was also the fact that even though he didn't mind what was going on, he felt that it was wrong. It felt rushed. It also felt that it was a means to an ends rather than an end in itself.

It was certainly NOT the way that he wanted his first time with Boromir to be.

Threading his fingers in Boromir's hair, he pulled his boyfriend off of him.

"What's wrong?" Boromir asked, clearly puzzled.

"With your technique, nothing. With what we're about to do, a hell of a lot."

"Don't you want me?"

Aragorn winced. "Yeah. Trust me on this. I want you. Terribly. But not like this."

"I'm not following you here."

Aragorn ran a hand through his hair and tried not to sigh in frustration.

"This feels wrong, okay. It feels like you're using me to...to...exorcise your demons. I don't want the first time we are together to be that way, okay?"

"But what if I want it? Would you deny me this?"

"Yeah. Only because it is wrong. It is, in a way, taking advantage of what happened to you. I don't want to do that. I care about you more than I care about getting laid. That's why I'd rather wait."

There was silence in the room for several moments. Then-

"It isn't because of what I told you, is it? Or because you feel sorry for me?"

"Nope. It's nothing about that at all. It's just that I have a feeling if we go ahead and do this, we're going to mess something up and it'll cause problems down the line and I don't want that. As much as it kills me, I'd rather wait."

Aragorn sighed. He really hated being the moral contingent in this relationship, but he knew that if he gave in to his temptation, he would hate himself later on. Sighing softly, he then rolled over and pulled the blankets over his shoulders.

He knew that Boromir was probably pissed at him, but he figured that he could live with anger better than messing with his morality.

He was just drifting off when he felt a warm body wrap itself around him, bleeding more warmth into his body.

"Thanks. I think."

~*~*~*~*~*

He crawled out of bed the next day, his eyes swollen with sleep and his mouth drier than the desert. His only thought was to get to the kitchen and get something to drink.

His body obeyed automatically and his feet led him to the kitchen. He heard voices, but he ignored them as he got a bowl and filled it up with water.

Aragorn had learned from experience that no glasses would be available, so he had always stocked up on cereal bowls for the mornings after.

He had just taken a small sip of water and was about to gulp down the rest of the bowl when Max's voice became terribly clear. Too clear.

"I know who caused Boromir's accident."

Aragorn's eyes opened up all the way. His voice shook slightly, but he kept it steady as he spoke.

"Who did it?"

Max scrubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand before he replied.

"Theoden and Arwen."



Part 21:Down From Above

Notes: this chapter deals with gang violence the way I watched it unfold in Edmonton in the 1990's. The names of the gangs are made up and I don't care or want to know if anything like this still persists in this city.

Winter Solstice is like the High Sprite version of Christmas. It is celebrated in mid-January, but no presents are given. It is patterned after the New Year's Celebrations in Japan. High Sprites are kind of like elves, but are weaker and only tend to live about 5,000 if they are full-blooded and about 3,500 if not. They also tend to stick to the Northern Hemisphere and have their own courts and customs.

"I don't want to start

any blasphemous rumours

but I think that God

has a sick sense of humour

and when I die

I expect to find him laughing"- Depeche Mode

"Rewind it and start from the beginning." Aragorn instructed as he put the bowl down on the somewhat clean counter. They had gotten around to putting the dishes in the wash, but there were still some containers and food on the counters.

Max took a deep breath and nodded before he began to speak.

"Last night Eo and I were talking about stuff and I asked her why Theoden beat her up that day. She told me that she overheard Theoden talking to Arwen and it sounded like they were talking about an auto accident of sorts. She said that he said he had gone to Halbarad's. She was sick that day, so she didn't realize what she had been hearing. Last night we talked about Boromir's accident and things clicked in her head. That and some other tidbits about paint colour and driving patterns made her think that Theoden was talking about the accident."

Aragorn's mouth thinned and his eyes glinted dangerously at this information. He had to close his eyes and count to ten to keep himself from running over to B.C. and strangling Theoden with his bare hands. They had to build a solid case first before they went to the cops.

"What about the paint?" Faramir asked as he watched Aragorn nervously. He too, was extremely angry, but he could keep his composure. He wasn't sure how well Aragorn would do in that department, since he could still remember how he had acted towards Casey in the Elephant and Castle.

"What color was the car that hit Boromir?" Max asked, turning to Aragorn.

"Silvery grey. The blood showed up really well on the hood." He replied in a mordant voice that made Faramir shudder.

" Eo said Theoden was telling Arwen the car was black. Why would you paint a car black? Or take it to Halbarad's for that matter?"

"Bodywork and to make the car untraceable, that's the only reason why you would go to that guy." Faramir answered, making Aragorn and Max look at him in surprise.

"You know Halbarad?"

Faramir snorted "Who doesn't know him? That guy not only runs an autobody shop, he also outfits the drag racing and sells heroin for the Asian gangs in the city. The shop is a front for the cops and they know it, but they haven't got the goods on him yet. We used to run errands for him when we were living in Chinatown. He was pretty generous with food and money from what I remember."

Max looked at him and shook his head. "Christ you guys *have* been around, haven't you?"

Faramir shrugged. "Ever heard of wrong place, wrong time? My brother and I are pretty much the epitome of that saying. So it pretty much is cut in stone that Theoden was the one that hit my brother and crippled him, right?"

"Exactly that. Like you said, you don't go to Halbarad's simply to get work done. He does some honest work, but most of his customers are involved in shit."

Aragorn nodded at Max's words.

"Of which Theoden is for sure involved in. That car couldn't have come from working a summer job. And I know his father wouldn't give him such a car. Or his mother for that matter."Aragorn pointed out crisply.

"Makes sense that he would put up money to fix it up and keep it below radar then."

"Are we going to the cops then? This could give them at the most, the entire fucking case. At the least, it could give them some clue."

Max said, looking at Faramir and Aragorn, who were staring at each other silently.

"Let's wait for a bit. I need some time to think about this. Even though I am eager to nail that fucker, we have to get everything done right or else they might dismiss the case and nothing will get done."

Faramir said as he ran his hands through his hair.

The three of hem nodded in silent agreement. Aragorn took the opportunity to take a sip from his bowl. His mouth was suddenly drier than parchment at that moment.

"Are we going to tell anyone else about this?" Max asked in the silence of the room.

There was silence for about three minutes before Aragorn spoke.

"Later. All of them should know. Then we'll figure out where to go from there."

~*~*~*~*~*~*

After everyone had come back from the dead, and after much coffee and club soda and water had been consumed, as well as Teachers finally been bundled home; the presents were finally unwrapped, much to the chibis' delight.

The atmosphere after that should have been festive. After all, it was Christmas, old demons had been laid to rest and a sense of well-being should have fallen upon everyone.

It should have been a picture book scene, but the tenseness in Aragorn and Faramir's expressions had somehow permeated the room until everyone, except the hobbits felt it in the marrow of their bones.

The afternoon would have been a terrible waste if it hadn't been for the elder elves stepping in and taking charge. Moving quickly, they had suggested that the chibis needed some fresh air. Rumil and Orophin had quickly responded to the subtle suggestion and had volunteered to take the hobbits out to play in the snow while everyone else cleaned up the house.

After Celeborn had shut the door, he turned around and stared at Aragorn and Faramir, who were standing by the Christmas tree staring back at the Elf.

"Spill it before things get weirder." Celeborn ordered them.

Aragorn looked at Faramir. Who was to have the honors?

Faramir shrugged and looked at the floor. Aragorn nodded almost imperceptibly.

He took a deep breath and stared straight at Boromir, who was watching him, his eyes bright with curiosity as to what he would have to say to all of them.

"Max told me this morning who's responsible for Boromir's accident."

Celebrian's hands clenched into fists at the news. Galadriel's hand flew to her throat and Celeborn's expression darkened at the news. Legolas bit his lip and Boromir's head jerked up sharply.

"Who was it? And how do you know this information?" Celly asked, her dark grey eyes darkening as she spoke.

"I..I..overheard it." Eowyn spoke up, making everyone turn to face her. Having all the attention in the room focused on her made her blush and twist the hem of her shirt in her hands as she continued her tale.

"That day, when I was sick. I..I..I..was sitting in a hallway, on the floor and I overheard Theoden and Arwen talking about fixing up a car and not to worry because no one would know."

Danny closed his eyes and rubbed his temples harshly before speaking.

"That was why he was hitting you? Why he ambushed you in the bathroom?"

Eowyn nodded. Danny swore and looked away. Glorfindel's mouth stretched itself into a thin line before he lowered his head and let his hair hide his face, his anger showing in how tightly his hands were clenched on his lap.

Max looked drawn out and tired as he went over to Eowyn and put his arm around her.

The ticking of the clock was the only sound in the house before a quiet exclamation shattered the silence.

"Jeezus..Christ..That bastard.." Eomer whispered before he ran his hands through his hair and looked at Boromir, who sat as still as a statue.

"I knew he was an asshole, but I never would have believed that he would do such a thing. I never thought he was that selfish. That cruel." he shook his head, his expression one of disbelief mingled with shock at his cousin's actions.

"Join the club." Danny muttered, his tone hollow and bitter. Max looked out the window.

What else could he add to that?

Sure, his sister was thoughtless, selfish and occasionally mean, but he never believed that she would be so cruel. So careless to calmly wreck someone's life and walk away as if nothing was out of the ordinary. And then she had.

Another long stretch of silence followed that last remark before Celebrian spoke.

"What are we going to do then?" She asked as she angrily tugged at one of her spikes.

"Go to the cops. The case is still open." Aragorn replied.

Celebrian snorted, Faramir bit his lip and looked away while Legolas picked at a loose thread. Celeborn and Galadriel frowned, but said nothing.

"What?" Aragorn asked, clearly confused at their reactions. He looked at Boromir, hoping he would get an explanation, but Boromir simply wheeled himself out of the living room. Aragorn then turned to go after him, but was stopped by Celebrian.

"Leave him alone for a bit." She ordered him. Aragorn shook his head and ran into the hallway, intent on getting to the bottom of his boyfriend's odd behaviour.

"I mean it, Estel. Don't!" Celebrian yelled at him as she grabbed his arm and pulled him roughly towards herself.

"Why the hell not? Why should I leave him?" Aragorn yelled, not caring if everyone heard him.

"Because he needs time to get over the news. Because he needs time to figure out what he's going to do. Because he needs to put himself together for *you*!!!"

Celebrian hissed at him, her eyes black as she hissed the words out.

"Make some sense, Celebrian. I'm too fucken tired and hung over still to decipher code right now, so get to the point."

Celebrian pursed her lips and exhaled noisily before speaking.

"The cops aren't going to make anything better when and IF they catch those two assholes, Aragorn."

Aragorn's eyes widened at Celly's words.

"Why the hell not? They have the evidence, they would convict them for sure!"

Celly shook her head. "Aragorn, in your little moneyed world that's the way it's supposed to work. But for us living in the real world, it doesn't work that way. Theoden and Arwen are rich. They can afford to buy their way out of this mess. My brother can't even fucken afford the wheelchair that may have to carry his crippled body for the rest of his life without social assistance. If this case goes to court, who do you think would win?"

Aragorn looked down at his shoes. "I..have money...We could afford a lawyer..."

Celly shook her head. "It's not the point, Aragorn! Sure, we could buy him a lawyer. And then we would have to deal with his past being dragged out in court as well! Who do you suppose the court would believe? A bisexual foster kid whose been in trouble with the law numerous times or the perfect little rich straight boy and girl who have "tragically" made a mistake?"

She shook her head and laughed bitterly.

"Don't try to come up with another argument to combat it, Aragorn. You know that I'm right. If anything gets done about this, all that it would turn out to be would be a class war. Rich vs. poor, queer vs straight. We can fight until the last dime, but it wouldn't change a thing."

Aragorn bit his lip as he thought about what Celly had said. It couldn't be true. They wouldn't be that cruel! Not when the evidence was before them! They wouldn't!

//Just try and believe it, kid.// The soft voice in his head whispered.

He shook his head. He knew that the law wasn't perfect, but he had to try and believe in it in order to help Boromir. He had to. Because there was nothing else that could be done otherwise. Nothing.

"Fine." He told her, shaking his arm free and walking to his room. Celly let her hand drop to her side as she watched him go.

"You're gonna learn, kid and it ain't gonna be pretty" She whispered, watching the door close before heading back into the living room.

~*~*~*~*~*

The first thing Aragorn saw after he closed the door was the wheelchair, which looked as if Boromir had shoved it away from the bed angrily, leaving it facing the wardrobe at the far edge of the bed. Seeing it that way made Aragorn bite his lip hard and ask himself whether he had made a mistake in coming forward rather than giving Boromir time as Celly had suggested.

He shook his head. He was being paranoid. Whatever happened he would deal with it.

Boromir lay on his side, the blankets tucked in tightly all around him. Aragorn sat beside him and rested his hand on the tangled nest of multi-coloured hair.

There was no reaction.

Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief. He would much rather have indifference than yelling. Or seething anger. This was a start.

He opened his mouth and..closed it firmly after realizing that he didn't know what to say.

So he just began to run his hand through the soft mass of hair under his fingertips while hoping that the gesture would be enough to convey something to Boromir.

He kept on stroking the hair letting the repetitive motion, the feel of soft hair, like heavy silk, soothe his nerves.

"I want to think that you're right, you know." Boromir whispered, drawing Aragorn out of the trance he had been slowly sinking into as he stroked Boromir's hair.

"That the cops will be able to find them and sentence them. But I have a feeling that Celly's right about what the outcome will be if the cops ever get a case together."

Aragorn's hand tightened on the hair as he tried to keep himself from shouting at his partner.

"I know that you see it differently, but I have been on the wrong side of the law often enough to know that it's a possibility nothing will get done."

Aragorn bowed his head at the words and tried not to let his despair overwhelm him. He wanted to refute what Boromir is saying, but he knew that he didn't have the words or the proof to back them up. But he wanted to tell him that it didn't all seem as terrible as it first looks. He wanted to assure Boromir that they would somehow find a way through it, but that sentiment was broken by Boromir's quiet voice once again.

"You know what else kind of bothers me? The fact that I don't remember anything about the accident. I've tried to think about it, but all I get is a black, empty hole. It's not that I want to remember it at all. But I just want to know exactly what it was that wrecked the rest of my life. That crippled me and ruined any chances I had for ever leaving my past behind."

Aragorn closed his eyes as he felt a wave of pure fury wash over him, banishing the despair he had felt earlier.

He wanted to punish them, he wanted to hurt them for hurting the love of his life. He wanted them to feel the agony and the pain that Boromir was now feeling. The hopelessness and defeat of knowing that they would never be able to get out of the prisons that they had been thrust into. The pain of not knowing exactly why that had happened.

God help him, he wanted to kill them for crushing Boromir's dreams.

He didn't say any of this out-loud. Instead, he laid down beside his partner and curled up around him, shielding him with his own body.

They laid like that for several moments before Boromir turned around and faced him.

He stared into Aragorn's dark blue eyes for several moments before he buried his face into the other man's chest and began to cry.

Aragorn held him as he did so, each sob torn from Boromir's throat strengthening his resolve that no matter what happened, he would make sure that Arwen and Theoden paid their debt to Boromir somehow.

~*~*~*~*

He stretched out in the bed before rolling over and pulling the curtains open. As he expected, it was snowing. And from the looks of the sky, it was going to be fucken freezing as well. He shook his head and let the curtain fall back into place again.

It was going to be a tolerable day, at least. Nothing like Finland, but it would have to do.

Smiling slightly, he folded his arms under his head and stared at the pale blue ceiling of his room.

It was the Winter Solstice. If it hadn't been so important that he be there, he would have remained back in Helsinki in the Court of The High Sprites. He hated Edmonton with a passion. The passage of years had never softened the blow of losing the green-eyed boy.

He could have done something better, he had often mused in the dark. He knew that he shouldn't have crossed the line, but something had snapped inside of him that day.

It didn't matter though, what was the case. He had lost. And the less he had to do with the sight of his defeat, the better.

Everyone thought that he had gotten over him. After all, he had never shown that much emotion whenever he tossed yet another one of his conquests away. Everyone believed that he was the perfect Ice Prince and he had done his share in cultivating that image. So even though he had been cut deeply by how everything had turned out between him and the boy, he had never let anyone see it. So he would live with the pain alone. Just like he wanted it.

He closed his eyes and was about to slip back into sleep when he heard a couple of knocks on the door.

"Yeah?" the door opened and a small girl with copper red hair and black eyes walked in.

"There's someone on the phone for you, Casey."

Casey sighed in irritation, but got up either way.

"Thanks, Inari." He said as he walked past her, patting her head gently before going to the kitchen.

"Hello?" He asked, picking up the phone and walking out into the hallway.

"Hey Caserion." Casey frowned at the use of his formal name.

"Why are you calling me?" Casey asked, his voice low and furious.

"Information. Word's on the street that the cops are looking for a suspect."

"I'm clean, Crawford. I haven't been involved in anything illegal since I was sixteen and you know it. Besides, I was out of the country, so if anything has happened, that is none of my concern."

Casey reminded the human. At his parent's insistence he had been in Stockholm for most of the last year and had only just gotten back in early December.

"It's not what you think. Satan got mowed down awhile back and they hadn't any leads till now."

Casey drew in a sharp breath at the news, feeling as if his bones had suddenly turned to water. He was both stunned and furious at the same time.

"How is he?" Casey asked, feeling his anger coiling at the bottom of his belly like a snake ready to strike.

"He may not be able to walk again. The two priests are sending up prayers for him in the church and in the orphanage."

Casey closed his eyes and took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself down. It wouldn't do for him to take off and start to recklessly create more problems. He hadn't ever been reckless in the past and he wasn't about to start being that right now.

"Who did it?"

"It's not sure right now. It's not one of our people, that's what's known."

"Is anyone going to get involved?" Casey asked, his voice flat.

"Not directly. No one's crazy enough to fuck up the balance here. We have no resources. We're just going to guide them to the clues and watch them pick them up."

"Is there anyone else on the force smart enough to pick them up?"

"Krushenada. Does the name ring a bell?"

"Good. Anything else?"

"Nothing right now. I'll contact you when its time."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I don't even know why I should help you."

"You hate me, but you know that I'll fix what this mess represents. Goodbye."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Something's going down." Yohji commented as he sat in one of the Church alcoves, a comic book on his lap, a Chupa choy sucker in his mouth as he read.

"Like what?" Duo asked from his position on one of the back pews.

"Something we should pretend not to know about." He answered cryptically as he turned the pages of his comic book.

Duo swore softly at this.

"Why the sudden activity?" he asked as he lay down on the hard wood and stared up at the somber wooden ceiling above him.

"In case you haven't noticed, this place has been crawling with cops lately due to those three bodies found in the school-yard and in various parking lots. Rumor has it that Halbarad and company are getting edgy."

Yohji explained as he pushed his reading glasses up his nose and looked at Duo, who was frowning.

"You're right. It doesn't sound good. " Duo sighed. " And we thought that it was all over after all that shit with the gangs went down."

"It was over. But some fucken idiot from B.C. is starting up all the shit all over again."

A new voice added, making Yohji and Duo turn to see who it was.

"How do you know, Koryuu? Shouldn't you be..oh I don't know..in the freaking Seminary?" Duo snapped at the blond priest who was standing in the doorway leading to the Orphanage next door.

"I graduated this December, Maxwell. It's Father Sanzo to you." The blond man muttered as he straightened out his cassock and gave Duo the finger.

"I still don't understand how a guy like you ended up a priest, you know?" Duo muttered as he flipped back the bird at Sanzo.

"Just cause I'm not a hypocrite doesn't mean I don't have faith, wanker. What you see is what you get. I'm not going to pretend otherwise."

Yohji sighed and snapped his book shut, not eager to get into the middle of another fight between Sanzo and Duo. Those two had been fighting ever since Koryuu-No, Sanzo_ Had decided he was going to be a priest. Yohji had honestly lost count of how many fights he had had to wade into.

He had vowed not get involved since the last time he had, he had gotten nothing but a deep bite on his ankle. Trowa and the others found it funny, but he failed to see the humor in having a set of sharp teeth in his flesh. Not to mention the humiliation of having to get shots in case it got infected. After that, he had pretended not to notice when they were fighting, since he knew that someone else, notably the priests, would take care of it for him.

But there was no one else except him, and even though he had often toyed briefly with the idea of letting them kill each other, but he knew that Trowa and the priests would be more than a bit put out by that ever happening. Sighing he deposited his book, glasses and lollipop stick on the alcove and waited for the time his intervention would be needed.

Luckily, Sanzo shook his head.

"Enough, Maxwell. I didn't come here to fight. Only to tell you to watch your ass and make sure that everyone pretty much sticks close to the church. There are problems starting and it seems like there's probably going to be more bodies showing up by the end of February if I'm right."

Yohji frowned at Sanzo's comments.

"How do you know all this? Especially about the fact that some guy from B.C. is the one that is stirring up all the gangs in the area?"

Sanzo's violet eyes narrowed even further as he looked at Yohji.

"Just because I was stuck in a library and in a church for this past while doesn't mean I don't hear what's going on outside, Kudoh. There have been enough whisperings for me to know that things are getting ugly around here."

Yohji's mouth stretched itself into a taut line at these remarks.

"How bad do you think it's going to get, Sanzo?"

Sanzo's violet eyes narrowed as crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Bad enough. Just do what I told you. Keep the little ones safe and we should be okay."

Yohji and Duo looked at Sanzo and nodded before all three went into the Orphanage.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Arwen sat on the edge of the bathtub, her knees jiggling with impatience. She checked her watch again. Exactly how long where those things supposed to take anyways? She asked herself, growling a bit in frustration.

According to her watch, she had about two more minutes to wait. Two more minutes too long, since her mom could walk in on her at any minute and that was something she most definitely *didn't* want to happen.

It was true her mother was more open-minded than her dad, but she didn't relish the thought of being exposed at such a crucial moment to her. Especially not when she hadn't even thought of any way to deal with whatever came next.

She looked around the bathroom to kill time and cursed herself once again for being so stupid for not giving into her mother's pleas and moving in with her. She would have gone to a different school, had more money and clothes and she wouldn't have had to share any attention with her brothers. Nor would she have had gone through all the shit that she had gone through in the first semester of school.

She would have remained a princess, secure in her position in both school at home. But she hadn't and everything had collapsed after that. Everything.

She checked her watch again..with thirty seconds to go.

She looked around once more before deciding what the hell. Practically leaping to the counter, she picked up the plastic wand and examined the small result window carefully.

She blinked at the answer and rubbed her eyes to make sure that she wasn't seeing things.

Nope. Her eyes hadn't fooled her the first time. The answer was still the same.

A plus sign.

She felt her hands and feet go cold with shock. She had toyed with the possibility of that happening, but she never truly believed that it was going to occur.

The wand fell from her nerveless fingers and made a clattering sound on the linoleum as it fell, making her jump slightly. She looked down at the white plastic, but didn't react to it. Instead, she looked at her reflection.

And promptly burst into tears.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Theoden arched his, back, letting out a soft moan before letting himself explode into the girl lying underneath him.

Letting himself fall heavily on top of her, he lay there, breathing heavily for a few minutes before getting off of her and walking to the window of the cheap room he was renting.

He stood at the window, looking out at the ever-cheerful sight of a broken-down parking lot as his mind worked over the events of the last few months.

It had been a shock to him to have been turned out of his father's home. Never in his life had the thought occurred to him that he could cross any boundary with his father.

He knew his father suspected him of running drugs. Although he had been careful in hiding the profits of the trade, such as paying out good money too keep the BMW in a parkade, he had felt that his father had found out about it from somewhere rather than mere observation alone.

His hand clenched at his side. It wouldn't have surprised him in the least if it had been his trashy cousins that had spilled the beans. They would have done something in order to have stood so high in his father's graces.

He scowled. He didn't like them. Not when they had forced him to share the spotlight with his parents. When they had forced his mother to run off. He hated them for being nothing but low white trash. He was going to make them pay.

Just like he had made that dirty kid from the government housing pay.

Or rather, he corrected himself as he ran a hand down his sweat-slicked abdomen, Arwen made him pay.

Even though it had been an accident, the way that he had run out in front of the car to save that kid, it still counted in his book as payback.

He knew that Arwen had never gotten over losing Aragorn. If it had been done by a girl, it probably would have lessened the sting and she could have maybe even stolen him back. But having it be a *man* that had stolen her prize from her had sorely wounded her ego. He could understand why she had reacted the way that she had.

He just hoped that nothing would be traced back to him. The Dragon Guild wouldn't be too pleased if he had any outstanding charges in Alberta, since so much product flowed into Calgary, Edmonton, Fort Mcmurray and Athabasca. They needed clean runners and if anything was traced back to them...

He shuddered slightly. He was not going to think about the consequences.

Theoden also knew, extremely well, that he was nothing but a mere bauble to ease the sting from the rejection. That was fine by him. He didn't see her as anything else except someone to release his tensions with. Nothing more.

"Are you gonna stand there all day or what?" Mingmei Tao asked him, her husky voice snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Sorry. Got distracted." He turned around and smiled at her.

She was the reason why he didn't care about Arwen. Mingmei Tao was who he had given his heart to. He loved her, as much as he was able and he was never going to let her go.

She pushed her long, layered hair back from her face and laid back on the bed, the bed-sheets sliding down a bit to reveal one large, full breast.

"What distracted you?" She asked as she leaned over and plucked her discarded tank top and pulled it over her head. She didn't like to be naked after sex.

"Things. Nothing too important." Theoden replied as he stepped away from the window and made his way over to the bathroom.

"Is it work?" She asked. Theoden looked into the mirror and smiled to himself as he watched her get out of bed and start pulling on her clothes. She had to get to work in about half an hour.

She too worked for the Guild, doing paper work and other office stuff for them instead of being a call girl like most of the women in the Guild. Which meant she had less free time than most of them. Today had been a rare day that she could spend time with him in the morning. Most of the time, they spent their time in bed in the afternoon, fucking, watching movies and eating the steamed taro buns Mingmei's sister-in-law made for them.

"Nah. It's other stuff. Family shit I still have to take care of." He explained before he stepped into the shower.

He was just about to pull the curtains shut when Mingmei stepped into the bathroom and looked at him, her expression extremely serious as she did so.

"Just family shit right?" She asked, her voice flat, betraying none of her feelings. Her hands were doing that for her, with the way that they were clutching at her purse.

He looked up at her face. He knew what she was asking.

"It's not going to get me in trouble with them. No." he told her in a steady voice.

She pursed her lips, which were painted a dark berry red that made her lips look even more swollen than they already were.

"Ming..it wasn't me that killed those guys. You know I'm not a soldier."

Theoden told her, putting his hand on her shoulder to reassure her of that fact.

"Why did you get called back here then?" she asked quietly.

"Shipment runs to Halbarad and Calgary afterwards. Nothing big. I don't want to be a runner for the rest of my life. I still want to go to law school like my dad. I wouldn't take such a risk by doing anything else, Ming."

Ming raised an ebony eyebrow and narrowed her eyes at Theoden.

"I know. But I still worry. Things have started to get bad now that the Guild and the Clan have opened their wars up again."

Theoden nodded and bent down to give her a soft kiss on her forehead to reassure her that he wasn't going to take a foolish gamble and get into trouble with either the Guild or the Golden Tiger Clan.

"Trust me Ming. I won't get involved. I have plans."

She nodded."I gotta go to work. Just promise me you won't get involved in anything, that's all I ask of you."

Theoden nodded. "I promise. I won't get involved."

She nodded and walked out of the bathroom, her heels making a sharp click on the linoleum as she exited the room. A sharp click and the sound of wood then indicated she had left the apartment.

It was only then that he pulled the curtain closed and started on his shower.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Thom ran his hands through his red hair and frowned. He let his head thump against the table, not caring that it was sticky with sugar and coffee granules. Nor that it had been partly cleaned with a cloth that looked like someone's used underwear. He clenched his fists under the table, trying to keep his knees from jerking, something they did when he was dead furious and was about to lose it.

He took a deep breath and counted to ten before he raised his head and looked at the tall man who was sitting in the window-sill staring at him.

"Are you fucken sure about this?" Thom growled as he got up from his chair and upended the table over. The chair was slammed against the cement wall a couple of seconds later. The impact has left it with the metal legs tangled up within each other.

After all of this, the other man only pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

He would much rather prefer that Yorke would calm down a little bit more before he told him the rest of the information he'd found.

"Positive. The numbers the cops showed me matched a runner's car I fixed up about that time. There's no doubt about it."

Halbarad told him, his palms getting slightly damp as he recalled the quick spark of fear at seeing cops in his shop earlier that day.

It had been a lucky thing that he had had all the shipments picked up earlier that day and had nothing suspicious in the shop. He would have been screwed six ways from Sunday if that hadn't been the case.

"Do you know if he's in town right now?" Thom asked him, his voice going to a low, almost growled pitch that set the older man's nerves on edge.

There was certainly going to be hell to pay soon, he thought to himself as he took a drag from his cigarette. The Clan and The Guild weren't going to like it, but they had no choice in the matter. The Yorkes were known to be connected to the Eirie Dubh and the other more vicious volatile creatures in the Irish Isle that kept to the shadows but occasionally came into to do "deals" of the dark variety. Due to this fact, the Clan and the Guilds let them be, since they stood to lose a lot if they ever touched the Yorkes when they decided they needed to get something done. Besides, it always seemed to benefit them in the end, so they learned to swallow their pride and watch as events unfolded.

"Probably. February's shipment just arrived. The runners stay in town for a few days after they go on their rounds again."

Thom nodded. His anger had cooled off, but he was still having problems seeing straight.

He flexed his hands and kicked at the wall a few times, letting the pain soak through his mind like a soothing balm. He couldn't afford to get angry right now. He needed the anger for later. When he had the bastard that hurt Boromir in his hands.

After the pain had done its work, he took a deep breath and let it out noisily before turning to Halbarad.

"What do I owe you for this?" He asked, his voice still a thick angry growl.

Halbarad shook his head. "Nothing. Only that you get rid of whoever it is. We don't need the cops nosing around here. Especially not around my shop."

Thom looked at the dark man and nodded before walking to the metal door of the backroom, wrenching it open and stepping out into the cold winter before giving Halbarad one last look that chilled him to the bone before slamming the metal shut.

Halbarad closed his eyes and finished his cigarette. He could only hope that death would be painless to that fool that had dared to touch Satan.

~*~*~*~*~*

Casey was sitting at the low table, dressed in the garb of the High Sprite court, which made him look; in his opinion, like he had stepped off of the set of a musketeer's movie: long waistcoat, a long, blousy linen shirt, black knee-length trousers, black boots and the stupid felt hat with a feather on it. He felt utterly retarded with that outfit on, but he couldn't say anything against it. It was just part of being a High Sprite to him.

Besides, his dad would glare at him if he even dared to breathe his displeasure to him.

His father, Usko, was at the head of the table, his green eyes narrowed in concentration as he lit the incense sticks. His hair, the colour of jet, flowed over his shoulders in a thick fall that nearly absorbed all the light from the candles.

His brothers, Oskari and Taavi, sat beside him on the left side of the table. Casey studied them surreptitiously, since they were full High Sprites, having been born a century before him, from another High Sprite that had met her death when Taavi had been born.

Oskari was dark like their father, but had grey eyes that flashed like steel. He was tall and built like a reed, just like all of the male High Sprites. He was also the quietest of them all, and that included their father.

Taavi was the opposite in that he had flax blonde hair like his mother and her royal blue eyes that slanted, making you see everything and nothing in his expression. He was reserved like Oskari, but was more demonstrative than Usko. But even though he was more lively, he was still considered cold by human standards.

On the other side sat his mother, Aina, who was dressed in a long Victorian gown, over which her caramel hair shone brightly. Her oval face was dominated by her large brown eyes and full mouth, features which neither Inari or himself inherited.

His gaze immediately flickered to his little sister, the last of the Markaanens. She was dressed like their mother, but her hair was a more vivid red, which was a sharp contrast to her pale skin and huge black eyes.

He hated her hair as much as he hated his, since it signaled to the world that they were half-breeds, making them easy targets for the zealots on every side that demanded purity of either race. It was even worse for him since he also had the violet eyes that were most of the half-breed's curse. People never let him live his legacy down.

He mentally snapped that train of thought off the rails. No point in brooding over something he couldn't ever help.

Deciding to focus instead on the Solstice celebrations, he watched as his father put the wine, candied apples, sashimi, reindeer and other traditional foods on the table before he bowed his head and spoke a prayer in the old Finnish that the Sprites used to conduct their ceremonies.

The prayer lasted for several minutes before his father raised his head and passed out the food and poured out the wine.

The Solstice had now officially ended and the party had begun.

Within minutes, the door-bell had begun to ring and relatives and friends began to pour into the house. The house became completely packed with Sprites, humans and half-sprites of all ages. Inari and the little kids ran around the house while Oskari and Taavi hung out with the older Sprites, leaving Casey to amuse himself with the other half-sprites his age. Which normally meant sneaking off to a dark room and giggling about ghosts and other stuff before the sexual tension began to creep up on them.

It looked to happen this year, when Mikko Halaapein showed up with his family. Casey smiled at the red haired half sprite and was about to greet him when his mobile rang.

Sneaking off to an empty closet, Casey answered it, shutting the ringing off quickly.

"This better be good." He whispered into the phone.

"It sure is, Caserion." Crawford replied dryly.

"Spill it. It's the Solstice and If my dad finds out I have my mobile on, I'm dead."

"We found out who it was that hurt your precious Satan."

Casey inhaled sharply at the news. "Who?"

"Theoden Rohan. He's been out of the province for a while, but word has it he's back and Halbarad gave Krushenada enough information to tie him to the incident."

Casey nodded. "Thanks for the information. What do I owe you?"

Brad laughed coolly. "Your silence in case anything comes up. I have studies I need to continue. I can't be a lawyer in jail, now can I?"

"Point taken, Crawford. Good night."

"Good night and happy hunting."

~*~*~*~*~

The day was cold, but the sun was shining and there was no wind. It was a perfect day for snow soccer. The priests didn't like it much and only got convinced to let the kids play on the condition that the older kids would watch them.

Ken was in the library writing a paper, Trowa was out helping his uncle and Sally was minding Nedra, while Boromir was visiting with Father Maxwell and Father Sanzo as well as Sister Caroline. Which only left Sanzo jr ( as Duo had begun to call him) Yohji, Duo and a out of place Aragorn to watch Watari, Tsuzuki, Hakkai, Goyjo, Nagi, Hisoka and Tatsumi along with a few of the neighborhood kids.

"Why are we doing this again?" Yohji complained as he jammed his hands in the pockets of his jacket and tucked his chin into his chest to ease the nipping feeling at his nose.

"Because we love the brats, despite what you say, Kudoh." Sanzo reminded him as he whipped out a cigarette and cupped his hands around it to light it.

"Besides, it's not that they're hard to mind. I'd much rather be here with them. They're cute." Aragorn offered, even though in reality, he felt as enthusiastic about the prospect as going to the dentist. It wasn't that he didn't like children, but right now, his mind was solely occupied with wanting to be with Boromir as much as he was able. Which in his opinion, wasn't enough time, since school had already started once more and Boromir was once again locked up in the hospital for intensive physical therapy.

Yohji only grumbled at the statement. It was true. Besides, he couldn't resist Tsuzuki when he pleaded for him to come out. Those big violet eyes always did him in. It was a fact of life.

"Besides, it wasn't as if you were doing anything super-important." Duo pointed out.

Yohji blushed slightly and Aragorn snickered softly while Sanzo took a deep drag from his cigarette while a sly smirk curled up his lips.

Yohji didn't bother to reply. Instead, he turned to the children, who were playing happily in the snow covered field, their shouts and giggles filling up the dead airspace of winter.

It was true. He wasn't doing anything at all. Well, not anything productive anyways. He and the others knew that until Ken got home, all he would do was lie around the house and re-read his comics and maybe scribble out a story, since his homework was all done.

He just complained because he wasn't feeling right. There was something that was making his skin crawl, almost as if static electricity was running under it.

He had gotten a touch of that earlier in the week when he had told Duo things were going down, but it hadn't been as strong as it was today.

He cast a wary glance at the kids. Even though Hakkai was having problems, since his depth perception sucked due to his damaged eye, things looked to be peachy. Duo and Sanzo looked to be okay as well. So why couldn't he shake off the feeling?

He walked around a bit to get the circulation going in his feet as he pondered the question when he saw a bright blue jacket and bright red hair in the distance that made the feeling get even stronger than before.

"Is that Thom?" He called out to Duo, who put his hands to his eyes, shielding them to see against the glare of the snow before nodding in confirmation.

Aragorn frowned. Thom Yorke? The famous Thom Yorke that acted like Boromir's personal little devil? What the hell was he coming to the Church for?

"THOM!! HEY THOM!!" Duo yelled out, waving his hands like a maniac.

Yohji watched this while desperately wanting to tell Duo to knock it off and herd the kids inside. Even though Thom was a great friend of his from the old days, he felt that Thom was bringing something unpleasant with him.

If it had had a scent, he would have said it smelt like the cloying scent of lilies, the kind that they always put on coffins. The kind that people always gave to the Church to "liven it up" without realizing that lilies meant death.

He didn't say anything though. He remained silent as the kids greeted Thom, only stopping their game briefly before returning to it full-force. Thom greeted them, but had quickly turned towards Duo, a determined scowl on his face as he did so.

"What's up?" Duo greeted him. Sanzo nodded politely and turned to watch the kids while Aragorn watched with an air of curious detachment, kind of like when you see a car wreck and are trying not to openly stare. Thom didn't mind Sanzo's behaviour. The priest never much liked Thom and he wasn't adverse to showing that. As for Aragorn, he pretty much ignored him.

"I found out who hurt Satan."

Yohji bit his lip. Duo made a small choked noise at the calm statement. Aragorn's mouth thinned into a bloodless line.

"What are you going to do?" Sanzo asked in a gravelly voice.

"What do you think?" the reply came back in a thick growl that scared even Yohji.

"No." The four men turned to look at Aragorn, not quite sure that they had heard him speak.

"What do you mean no?" Thom asked, his eyes narrowing into thin black slits in his pale face. Others would have been quaking at the sight of the enraged man, but Aragorn calmly held his ground.

"He's my boyfriend. If anyone is to take revenge for him, it should be me, not you."

Thom shook his head. "This isn't kid's play. This is serious. You wouldn't be able to handle what it will come to."

Thom's eyes widened only a fraction as he looked Aragorn from head to toe, noticing the expensive clothes, shoes and jacket that the other man wore before giving a contemptuous snort and shaking his head.

"You rich kids are all the same. You talk tough and you think that will get you far. Let me tell you something: You *can't*. You won't. No matter what bloody lies you can tell yourself, when it comes down to it, you won't measure up."

Aragorn laughed coldly at Thom's snarled words of warning.

"And who says you will? That you won't choke up? Money doesn't measure how much guts you have when it finally comes down to doing stuff. What makes you think you won't wimp out?"

Thom's eyes went a dangerous golden colour that made Yohji and Duo shudder. When Thom's eyes went that colour, or a couple of shades lighter, there was going to be hell to pay pretty soon.

"Cause I made a promise to him, that I would stand by him no matter what. That's why."

Aragorn nodded. "I made one to him as well. We might as well work together on this rather than obstruct each other on this task."

Thom's eyes widened and the colour went bright for a couple of seconds before darkening to their usual shade as he contemplated the offer Aragorn had made to him.

He didn't trust the dark man. Didn't like him. Didn't think that Boromir's honor could be saved by that little kid. That weak ..human.

He should have told him no. He should have left him right then and there.

To his dying day, he would never know why he opened his mouth and..

"Fine. But don't come crying back to the Church when you can't handle the burden of it."

Aragorn only nodded. Any other words would have been superfluous at that time.

From him at least. For the others, a torrent of words were going to be unleashed.

Duo opened his mouth to protest or reply to this, but a sharp, high scream interrupted him.

Sanzo, Yohji and Duo turned around in time to see Tsuzuki lying face first in the snow with blood staining the pure whiteness underneath a deep, mulberry red.

The rest of the children were crowded around, their faces giving away their fear and shock as they watched their friend lie there on the cold ground.

"Fuck!" Yohji shouted and ran to Tsuzuki. Duo left Thom and began trying to calm down the kids and ask questions as to what had happened.

Sanzo frowned before he turned to Thom.

"Do whatever you have to do. But don't get anyone else involved in this. You have Death on you. Go fulfill your task and leave us to ours."

Sanzo whispered to him before he too, turned and began to help Duo and Yohji.

Thom stood there for a few minutes before running off. He hadn't a place with them anymore. He had been officially shunned from the circle.

So acute was the pain of knowing that he was forever cast out that he barely acknowledged Aragorn following closely behind him.

~*~*~*~*~*

They were running when they ran into the Sprite. They had nearly passed him as they crossed through a deserted alley. They would have ignored him if it hadn't been for the violet eyes and the honey brown hair that they knew very well.

He must have realized who they were cause he just stopped in his tracks and just stood there, amidst the empty boxes and other office rubbish and waited for them to come to him, which they did promptly.

They had sized each other up for several minutes after they had slowed down and gone back to speak to him.

Once a mutual understanding had been reached, they had dropped the bullshit and begun to talk.

"Caserion, right? That's what your name is?" Thom asked as he wrapped his arms around himself in an effort to dispel the chill of both the day and being shunned from the Orphanage.

Casey nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly at the sound of his name.

"Legally. I'm just Casey. And you're Thom right? One of Satan's demons?" He asked as his violet eyes swept insolently over the other one.

He recalled this one well. He had been the one to break his nose right before Christmas.

"And the supposed lover of the brat, am I correct?" Casey asked sweetly.

"Not the Brat, but Satan." Aragorn replied in the same mock-sweet tone that Casey had used, making the Sprite scowl and take a step forward towards the human. He would have hurt him if it hadn't been for Thom stepping in.

"Indeed. What are you doing here? You know that you aren't welcome anywhere near the Orphanage. Not after what you did to him."

Casey nodded in agreement. "I've come to make amends for that."

It was Thom's turn to narrow his eyes.

Sprites were fast, but not as fast as Quenyan or Silvanian elves.

Casey's eyes widened when his back made contact with the hard concrete of the alley wall. It didn't hurt that badly, but it did knock the wind out of him.

"Who told you that he was here?" Thom asked, his eyes glowing an eerie gold as he tightened his grip on Casey's shoulders, nearly making the half-sprite cry out in pain.

Casey's eyes widened, but he didn't reply.

Aragorn only watched the proceedings, wondering all the while whether he should step in or not.

"That's what you came here to do, isn't it?" Thom asked the Sprite, who laughed hoarsely.

"What if it was?" Casey wheezed out bitterly. "Are you going to stop me?"

Thom snarled and let him go, which resulted in Casey falling to his knees in the dirty alley.

Thom didn't answer him. He flicked a small glare at Aragorn, who was watching the proceedings with a neutral expression and the words he had said earlier rose up unbidden in Thom's mind. He then turned to Casey, who was watching him curiously, waiting for what was going to come next.

"No. We're both going to help you get him. There's no point in running you off when you can be useful. Even though I hate the mere though of you even being near me, it would be a good idea for all of us to be in on it together. "

Casey's only looked at Thom and Aragorn, his mouth quirking up slightly as he did.

"I didn't know you would care so much about him that you would do such a thing."

Casey told him in a flat voice. "They always said you hadn't those kinds of emotions."

Thom snarled at him. "You're one to talk. You fucked him up. You tore him apart and walked away with nothing more than a backwards glance, so don't talk to me about feelings, Caserion, cause we all know half Sprites don't have any."

Something flickered in those deep violet eyes. Something that was too fast for Thom to be on defensive for. Something that only Aragorn saw, but wasn't able to react to.

Casey moved so fast that he appeared a blur to Aragorn, who stood stunned as he watched the Sprite lose it on Thom.

"You have no right!" Casey yelled as he threw himself on the redhead. "You don't know what it cost me to leave him! You won't know! Never will know what hell I live with day in and day out. I love him! I will never stop!"

Casey yelled, all his composure gone as he punched Thom over and over again until Aragorn hauled him off, his anger getting the better of his shock.

"You loved him? After what you did to him?!"Aragorn yelled at Casey, who was looking up at him, his eyes a dark violet that swallowed up even the pupils.

"I had to do it!" Casey yelled, his voice a painful high scream.

"You think I don't think about it every single fucken day when I wake up? That I don't regret ever destroying the only person that meant something in my life? That I don't regret blindly following the orders of my family? I may be a bastard, but I do feel. Just like him" Here he pointed at Thom, who was looking at him with a shocked expression on his face as he wiped up a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.

"And just like you." He finished, his voice suddenly lowering to a whisper.

Aragorn suddenly ashamed, then angry for feeling that way, then ashamed again.

He didn't want to feel pity for Casey. Not after he had driven Boromir to attempt suicide. But he could understand being driven and manipulated by his own family. The people that were supposed to make you feel safe and at home. The people supposed to support you in anything that you did, whether they thought it was a smashing idea or the dumbest piece of tripe ever.

So despite his abiding hatred and confusion over Casey's actions and motives, he can't help but to feel a small twinge of compassion for him. A sort of kinship.

He looked at the half-sprite again, who was now sitting on the ground, looking as if he was utterly defeated. Utterly tired, as if all the fight had gone out of him.

That impression lasted only until Casey raised his head and exposed those violet eyes, which were now bright with an intense glare that would have made a lesser mortal wilt.

That glare was what decided everything. There was no going back on this. On anything.

Aragorn extended his hand to Casey.

It looked like they were going to go to hell together to save the one person they all loved.

~*~*~*~*~

Boromir folded his hands and laid them on his lap in an effort to control their trembling, but that only seemed to intensify their movement.

He looked down at them. Looked at the metal and straps of the braces his legs were now in. Looked at the dark denim of his jeans. Fingered the fabric. Touched the cold steel.

Did everything in his power to NOT look up and see Duo's face.

He heard muttering, but it was too low to decipher. That was soon followed by the shuffling of people leaving the room.

He still didn't look up.

It wasn't until several minutes later that he did. And was met by the sight of Yohji staring at him, his expression one of cool neutrality.

Boromir was about to wheel away from his friend, but Yohji had already expected that. Moving quickly, he stepped in front and effectively stopped Boromir from going anywhere.

He then knelt down and forced Boromir to look at him straight in the eye.

Boromir didn't look away that time, despite desperately wanting to.

"We couldn't have stopped him, even if we had wanted to. Is that what you would have wanted us to do? Is that why you're silent?" He asked.

Boromir shook his head. Even if he had wanted to speak, he felt that the words would have just stuck in his throat and choked him, so he remained silent.

"Then why?"Yohji asked him softly.

"I don't know, Yotan. I don't." Boromir ground out after a few moments of silence.

He ran his hands through his hair, which was hanging down in messy tangles down to his elbows.

Yohji watched the actions silently as he mulled over the theories popping up in his mind.

Laying down his head on Boromir's lap, he then began to trace small circles on the rough denim before he spoke again.

"If I tell you what I think, will you promise not to get angry?" Yohji asked quietly, not bothering to move his head or stop his finger's movements.

Boromir looked down at the tangled dark-blonde head lying on his lap and frowned in confusion. Why would he get angry at him? In all the years he had known Yohji, despite all the crap that the Eurasian had pulled, he had never once gotten angry at him. Why would he start getting angry now? It was insane. It was unthinkable.

"No. I won't get angry. I promise." Boromir reassured him.

"You failed him."

Yohji's flat comment made Boromir stiffen.

"What? What the hell are you saying?" he asked his child-hood friend.

Yohji lazily raised his head and looked at Boromir straight in the eye.

"You think you have failed to protect him. To keep him away from all of this. To keep him from staining his hands with blood. To keep what innocence he has intact."

Boromir looked down. He couldn't meet Yohji's eyes. Couldn't say anything, because what his friend said was true.

He felt like a failure. He felt like a helpless cripple, unable to even do a simple act such as saving his lover from making a deal with the devil for his sake.

"Don't feel that way." Yohji ordered him, reaching up and cupping his cheek and forcing him to look back at him.

"It won't do anything for either of you if you do. What is done is done. Nothing will alter that. What you have to worry about is how to deal with the aftermath."

Boromir swallowed hard at the pragmatic words, but could find no fault with them.

"He made a deal with the devil, Yohji. How am I supposed to handle that?"

Yohji's eyes narrowed.

"How indeed is the question we have to figure out the answer to, Boromir. Before he comes back and tells you the deed has been done."

Yohji lifted his head from Boromir's lap and looked at him sharply.

"Aragorn made that deal, that decision for you. Out of his own free will. No one was pushing him to go. Hell, Thom even tried to dissuade him from it. But he went. For you. Now are you going to throw that in his face when he gets back? Or are you going to see it and treasure it as the sacrifice that it is?"

Boromir's mouth thinned into a white, blood-less line at Yohji's questions.

"I didn't ask him to do this for me. I never wanted him to go and hurt, much less *kill* anyone for me."

"It's true that you didn't ask for it to be done. That is beside the point and you know it. The fact of the matter is that it is being *done*. For you. And you have to decided whether you're going to honor that sacrifice being done for your sake."

Boromir lowered his head. "And if I don't want it?"

"How would you feel if the tables were being turned on you? What if that was *you* out there, making a deal with the devil and risking *everything* just so that there would be a small sense of justice served on your part?"

Boromir slumped down in the wheel-chair. He knew that he would be lying if he said he wouldn't do it. He knew himself well enough to know that if Aragorn would have ever come to harm, he would have done the exact same thing. He wasn't a saint by any stretch of the imagination. Nor was he going to be a hypocrite either.

He knew that Yohji was asking him to be truthful to himself. To put aside his wounded pride and his self-loathing and answer the questions as truth-fully as he was able to. Even if the truth made him want to crawl under a convenient rock afterwards.

"What would you do if you and Ken were in the same position as Aragorn and I?"

Boromir asked Yohji, who let go of his face and looked at him thoughtfully.

"I would value what he did for me. Nothing more and nothing less, since we all know that for people like us, Justice is hard to come by."

Yohji turned to him then. "But that is me. Or him. I know if that ever happened to him, he would expect no less of me. And I would happily oblige him. That is the only way I know."

Boromir nodded. "That is the only way. But not for him. Aragorn's world is the one where the cops actually want to help you and you can afford a lawyer to have some kind of justice in a court. The kind of world were all the good little girls and boys get rewarded no matter what."

Yohji shook his head. "That's the reason why it's killing you, isn't it? The fact that he crossed the line and is doing it for *you* If it had been the other way around, as I pointed out before, there wouldn't be this dilemma of conscience, am I right? You wouldn't give a damn if you got your hands bloody, because you feel that you aren't worthy of having a sacrifice of this magnitude made on your behalf, correct?"

Boromir opened his mouth ad snapped it shut again. If he said anything, he would be a liar.

Yohji smiled bitterly as he once again began to make circles and other patterns on Boromir's lap.

"You don't give yourself enough, credit, Sebastien."Yohji whispered as he laid his head down again.

"What do you mean, Yotan?" Boromir asked, once again slipping into the childish name he had addressed the Eurasian by when they had been children.

Yohji rolled his eyes at the question before he stood up. He was getting cramped kneeling like that. And it wasn't Sunday, so screw being like that for any longer than he had to be.

"You have about this much" Here, he held his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. "Self-confidence, Sebastien. At first, I admit, I found it endearingly cute when we first met, but now, it's a detriment to your well-being."

Yohji sighed when he saw the blank look on Boromir's face regarding his comments.

For an extremely smart man, he sure could be extremely dense, Yohji noted sourly.

"You don't think highly of yourself at all. To put it in plain English. You, my friend, see yourself as ranking a little below moldy rat stew..which has now let us come full circle to the reason why you're pissed Aragorn went off with the Irish Boy-scout from Hell."

Boromir stared at his hands and said nothing. What could he say? Silence, at this time was the best thing to do.

Yohji rolled his eyes and tried not to get exasperated. He hated getting the silent treatment. Especially from Boromir, since he would do this whenever someone would get concerned about him. Or when they had gotten too close to the truth.

He was going to try again, but the arrival of Father Maxwell stopped his actions cold.

Casting a look at Boromir that promised it wasn't over between them, he then turned to Father Maxwell, but not before seeing the tilt of acknowledgment Boromir threw him.

The old priest noticed the by-play, but chose to ignore it. Mainly because he believed that Yohji and Boromir should resolve their differences between them.

"Forgive me the intrusion, but Tsuzuki is asking for you both. I normally wouldn't ask this, but he should have some rest after his injuries."

Yohji winced.

"How bad was it?"Boromir asked, his eyes showing concern for Tsuzuki.

"Not as bad as we originally thought. He did break his nose and the cut required stitches. The doctor said he was lucky, since it was fairly close to taking his eye out."

Boromir nodded, his expression cold as he digested the news.

He looked at Yohji, who only nodded at Father's request. He paused only to jerk his head towards the Orphanage. Truce. For now.

~*~*~*~*~*

"So where is he?" Thom hissed at a calm Casey. Aragorn only jabbed at the ice in his iced tea and looked around nervously at the eatery where they were waiting, like the Grim Reaper for Theoden.

"I wonder if he knows Death is coming for him tonight." Aragorn mused thoughtfully as he took in the interior of the Blue Lotus.

He had only heard the rumors. Had only read the lurid reports of gang activity. Never would he had imagined that he would be sitting in such a place in his lifetime.

"It sure doesn't look like a den frequented by drug dealers and hedonists." he thought as his eyes traveled all over the place in an effort to ease his nervousness.

The walls were painted a fresh, cheery green, which were off-set by the few pieces of artwork chosen to ease the monotony of the decor for the patrons.

Black steel-framed dining sets comprised the furniture. On the tables lay utensils, napkins and condiments. Families, young adults and old wizened men and women all ate the hot noodle soup that was the specialty of the house. Waitresses bustled to and fro among the din to serve steaming hot bowls of soup, onion cakes egg sodas and Vietnamese coffee, which consisted of dark espresso and sweet condensed milk.

It didn't look at all like it should have any illegal activities going on. In fact, it looked just like a decent eatery one might partake a simple meal in.

He had said as much to Casey, who had nodded in agreement.

"Yeah. I know. It's a great facade. The owners are clean, but they have no choice but to turn a blind eye at anything that goes on here."

Thom scowled. He was getting impatient and his question hadn't been answered yet.

"Hey, elf-boy. Are you sure that he's gonna show?"

Casey glared, making his eyes turn that opaque violet once more.

"I'm sure of it. Crawford said as much and I trust him." He replied witheringly.

Through a bit of "persuasion", which simply meant they paid him a visit and Thom roughed him up until he spit up information; they had found out the Guild runners frequented the Blue Lotus. They were sure to find Theoden there.

Thom snorted. "How sure can you be about his information?"

Casey lifted his cup of Vietnamese coffee to his lips and took a small sip before replying.

"I hold his life in my hands and he knows it. He would be a fool to do otherwise."

He explained, setting his cup down.

Thom nodded. It was fair enough.

"Why is this place in the hands of the Guild?" He asked, figuring it would do some good to fill the silence at their table. He was getting tired of the din of voices speaking various Chinese and Vietnamese dialects all around him while everyone at his table remained relatively silent.

"The outside is a perfect for ambushes. There's a fire exit in the back by the bathrooms. That opens up in an alleyway that's practically a freaking jungle. It's simple to just wait for someone, kill them and slip inside. Also, it's right by the German Church. No one in their right mind goes there unless they like dealing with all the shrubbery and the graves."

Casey explained, ticking off points on long, slender fingers.

"It's a great place to have, regarding the facade and all that, hence the reason they guard it so carefully. The Clans have to content themselves with the Cherry Tree."

Aragorn and Thom nodded at this. They had seen the Cherry Tree. Although the noodle shop was in a fairly good location, it didn't offer the advantages that the Lotus did.

"Have the Clans tried to take over the Lotus?" Aragorn asked, his interest piqued at the goings on in a world that he hadn't even dreamed existed.

Casey and Thom shook their heads.

"They made a truce after the gangs got into too many problems about seven? Eight? Maybe six years ago? I don't recall the exact time, but I know that they decided to claim areas and those claims would be respected. Having the law here at practically all day and night was getting bad for everyone's business so it made sense. The smaller clans may not like it, but they wouldn't dare break the system."

Aragorn nodded. Made sense. In a weird, twilight-zone type way, but it made sense.

"So when is this place supposed to close?" Aragorn asked them as he looked at the clock directly above Casey's head. It was 7.45. They had been waiting for about an hour.

"About two. But there are going to be deliveries going out early tomorrow. They aren't going to be out late." Thom assured Aragorn.

"Worried that you're going to be late for class tomorrow?" Casey asked, a cool amusement in his eyes as he spoke.

Aragorn didn't say anything, but the glare he sent the half-sprite was enough to confirm this.

He smiled at the human and took a sip of his coffee one more time before grinning back at Aragorn.

"We'll be done before ten tonight. Eleven at the latest. So don't worry about a thing."

He pursed his lips and looked at him, this time more sharply than the last times.

Aragorn ignores the look and drinks more of his tea, which has, by now, become mostly water from all the ice cubes in it.

He knows that Casey is still calculating as to whether he will be useful or not. It's a test of sorts. A test he's determined not to fail.

Casey lets off staring at him after a few minutes, his attention diverted by something. A noise, Aragorn realizes when he catches the small twitch of his ears as they move to catch the sound. He has seen Lee doing this exact gesture many times, so he looks in the direction of where the sound may be coming from.

The door was just sliding shut behind two young men. Asian, but with atrociously died hair in shades of terrible orange, blonde and red. Casey kind of snorts and Aragorn has to restrain himself from doing the same. He doesn't want to start any problems.

They watch as the men chat a bit with the owner and find a table to sit. Harmless. They are about to turn back to their exciting and stimulating conversation when the door opened up again, depositing two other people into the warmth of the eatery.

The girl was stunning in the exotic oriental way. Dark hair, cut in layers cascaded down her back. She was tall for an Asian, with long limbs showed off to perfection by her fitted jeans and expensive boots. Her skin was rich and golden, her eyes dark brown, her large, luscious mouth was complemented by her expert makeup and rich, but simple clothing.

But she wasn't the one that held their attention. It was the man that was with that did.

Theoden walked in then. His narrow, pale face still set in an arrogant expression as he looked around the room. His clothes were subdued, but they had an air of tailored elegance that didn't come from a department store, that was for sure.

Aragorn had to force himself to look down at the table to prevent himself from jumping up and strangling Theoden right then and there.

Hearing Thoms soft growl and Casey's snort told him he wasn't the only one that was feeling the same way.

But they had to be patient. Or else their prey would slip out of their fingers.

They sat still, occasionally sipping at the dregs of their drinks as they watched Theoden and the girl move about.

They settled on a table in the middle of the restaurant and half-heartedly looked at the menus as they chatted in voices that couldn't be heard over the din of the dining room.

"They'd better not sit there and eat." Thom muttered angrily. Aragorn found himself agreeing whole-heartedly with him. He was raring to go. He didn't want to sit there and wait and wait..each minute that slipped by more of a torment than anything else.

To their relief, they only ordered coffee, which arrived quickly and was drunk with as much alacrity as a person can muster with a hot drink before the girl smiled at Theoden and left through the back door.

The wait at the café had been worth it, since Theoden plunked down some notes in payment and exited through the same door less than five minutes later.

They waited for a bit, to make sure that no one would notice their departure and connect it with Theoden later on. They had paid already, so it was a simple matter of slurping down the rest of their drinks and sneaking off one by one through the fire door.

~*~*~*~*

Mingmei waited impatiently in the vine covered alley way. Not only was she cold, but the place was too close for her peace of mind to the German Church.

The Church has been there since 1879, when the first wave of immigrant arrived in Edmonton. Although not too many Germans were coming in the present day, the Church was still a large meeting point for all the old German families, most of which had at least one relative buried in the yard.

A yard that was in the news once a year due to the discovery of bodies or rape victims. It was an ideal place for those kind of activities, since the Church itself gave cover, as well as the trees that had been planted there, prompting most kids to call it "Schwarzer Wald". This made Mingmei snort in amusement. Great. Even the gangs were well educated in Edmonton.

Her musings were cut short by the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps, which warmed her up immensely. Theoden was coming. Nothing else mattered to her.

She looked away from the Church and was greeted with the sight of Theoden rushing up to her.

She made to step towards him, but was stopped by the sight of two dark figures jumping on Theoden and hauling him down to the ground, violently kicking, punching and clawing at him as if they were wild animals latching onto their prey.

Theoden hadn't stood a chance. Not with the way that the two had attacked him. Mingmei realized that and opened her mouth to scream for help.

But it was too late for anything to be altered. That she realized when the hard butt of a gun came in contact with the back of her skull and the night and the cold were no more.

~*~*~*~*~

Aragorn felt himself shaking as he dove in to land another punch on Theoden. It hit him in the face, but it didn't make him go down. Not even when Casey took his turn and landed a punch that had so much force behind it Aragorn swore he could hear the crack of ribs when it had connected with his chest.

Theoden grunted, falling back a bit before he came at them at full force. The kind of force born out of desperation. The kind of force that only wild, cornered animals use.

Aragorn watched him. He felt no emotions when he saw how Theoden's face was pale, the paleness made even more obvious by the blood dripping down his face from Thom's first punch. Nor did he feel surprise as Theoden's eyes swept all over them with only fear in their depths before he lunged at them.

Theoden knew that they had come for him. He accepted that. But he wouldn't let them take him down so easily.

He came at them so fast that they barely had time to put up their guard. But even then, they still got a few nicks and chunks of skin taken out, not to mention the black eye that Thom received when he tried to return the attack.

Aragorn prevented Theoden from getting an advantage simply by punching him as hard as he could in the same place he had seen Casey land his punch. He knew he had succeeded when the other man fell to his knees.

But it was a brief respite broken by Theoden getting up right away and punching Casey in the gut, making the Sprite double over and wheeze in an effort to get his breath back. Thom got him back by simply sweeping his feet from underneath him and knocking him down. Once Theoden was on the ground, Casey took the chance to literally stomp on his head.

"Fucker." He panted out as he rubbed his stomach. That shot had hurt.

"So what now?" Aragorn asked, turning a slight green at the sight of Theoden's bloody face. Casey had broken his nose and the blood was still flowing.

"Take him to Schwarzer Wald. We'll finish him off there." Thom replied.

"And the girl?" Casey asked. He hadn't expected Theoden to be accompanied, and the appearance of the girl threw his plans off-kilter.

"Take her along. We can't risk her babbling to anyone." Thom decided, his voice so matter of fact that it made Casey and Aragorn exchange glances.

Thom picked up Theoden's body and began heading over to the Churchyard, leaving Aragorn and Casey still staring at each other, the same question in their eyes. Did Thom mean to kill the girl as well?

Aragorn opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Thom's impatient shouts.

"We don't have all fucken nights folks!! Move it!"

Casey had only shrugged before picking up the girl and moving past Aragorn, but not before muttering "I'll think of something, don't worry."

Aragorn only nodded before he followed the Sprite, all the while hoping that he would be able to come up with something to spare the girl.

~*~*~*~*~*

"This should be good." Thom muttered as he gracelessly dumped Theoden down on a flat tombstone, the stone gleaming a dull white in the semi-darkness of the yard.

"Fine." Casey agreed flatly, laying the girl down a bit more gently on the ground.

The stood in silence for several minutes, letting their eyes adjust a bit more to the darkness when Thom pulled out a gun, the dark metal contrasting sharply against his pale hand.

"Who should have the honors?" Thom asked as he checked if it was fully loaded.

"Where the hell did you get the gun?!" Casey hissed out.

"My dad's stash." Thom replied casually. "Anyways, who is it going to be?"

Casey shook his head. "Give it to the human."

Aragorn felt his mouth go dry at this statement.

"Why can't you do it, elf?" Thom asked, his voice slow and drawling as he spoke.

"It's not my place to do it. He, by rights should have the honor of killing him."

Casey explained softly, his words dripping with bitterness as he spoke.

"Fine." Thom agreed before he walked over to Aragorn and deposited the gun in his clammy hand.

"Here's your chance to prove what you're made out of." Thom whispered before backing away from Aragorn.

Aragorn lifted the gun, his hand trembling as he did so. His fingers released the safety catch as he walked towards the tombstone that Theoden lay on. The way that the other man was sprawled on the white marble made him think, for a fleeting moment, of a pagan sacrifice.

He took a deep breath as he held the gun in both of his hands and took aim.

His finger was starting to pull the trigger back when Theoden opened his eyes and looked at him.

"Jeezus! Christ!" Thom's disgusted voice floated over Aragorn and Casey's heads.

"Do I have to do everything myself?" He yelled over to the bushed where Aragorn was currently was emptying his stomach in while Casey, strangely enough, was holding his hair back and rubbing his back in sympathy.

"Shut the hell up Yorke! Give him a break! He's never had to do shit like this before."

Casey yelled back.

Thom growled in frustration."I don't understand why Satan picked such a weak one to be his mate this time around!" Thom complained roughly.

"Look, just shut the fuck up and kill the fucker already, you stupid harpy!"

Casey snapped at him, earning him a snort from Thom.

"Fine." his answer was then followed by the loud explosion of a gunshot, which was then followed by Aragorn being joined by Casey in retching up all the contents of their stomachs.

Thom snorted and threw the gun on the forest floor, while thanking his lucky stars he had thought to wear gloves that night.

"So are we going home now or what?"

~*~*~*~*~

Boromir was nearly asleep when he felt the light touch of Yohji's hand on his shoulder.

He looked up and saw the blond looking down at him, his expression unreadable.

"Casey is here. He wants to see you."

Boromir felt as if the blood in his veins had turned to ice at this statement. What the hell did Casey want with him? Why did he show up at the Orphanage?

"What..what..what the hell does he want with me?" Boromir whispered.

"I don't know. But if you don't want to see him..or can't see him..we will get rid of him."

Boromir shook his head at Yohji's words.

"Tell him I will see him."

Yohji's mouth had thinned at the words, but he didn't say anything as he left.

Boromir then looked up at the statue of St. Joachim by the altar and never once removed his eyes from it, not even when Yohji and Casey came back in the room.

"Boromir." he flinched at how tenderly his name had been spoken, but he didn't look at the speaker.

It wasn't until Casey grabbed his chin and turned his face towards him that he looked.

The Sprite's eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, and his face was extremely pale. He looked like a lost little kid rather than a regal son of the House of Markaanen.

He didn't know what Casey was going to do or say to him, or why he had sought him out. Nor was he particularly keen on finding out either. He wanted to pull away and put distance between them lest the memories begin to resurface and make him powerless again.

Casey must have sensed the eagerness he had to pull away, since the pressure of his fingers strengthened just a bit, keeping him in place as the Sprite leaned forward.

At first, Boromir thought he was going to kiss him, but that idea was dispelled when he felt Casey's lips brush against his ear.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Sebastien. I hope this makes up for some of it. Not all of it. I wouldn't expect that from anyone. Good-bye."

A soft kiss on his cheek followed the broken murmurs. It was so light that if he hadn't been on edge, he wouldn't have felt it.

A swish of honey brown hair, the soft whisper of Burberry perfume and he was gone.

Truly gone.

And he had no clue how he should have been feeling about it either.

The turmoil was amplified when another body, smelling of lemon and with dark hair fell on his lap.

Puzzled, he looked down straight into Aragorn's tear-streaked, white face and choked back a sob.

"I..I..I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it! He looked at me..and I couldn't..couldn't...hated him...so much..for hurting you...his eyes...I couldn't do it..."

"Shhhh..." Boromir said as he began to stroke Aragorn's hair back.

"It's okay. It's over."

They all had gotten what they wanted..and it didn't do anything to ease the anguish at all.

Notes:(sorry) Umm, I admit that this part may have mistakes..it's a very long story as to why that is. I promise next part will be cleaner. Also, excuse the length of time it took to actually get this one out. I went o LA, then I have been sunk into my art-house funk for a long time. My priority will be to finish this fic before the end of the fall. Honest. Thanks for being patient.

Notes: University Terms end in about April in Canada. That's about it.

Once again, apologies for such a late chapter. Job hunting, apathy and writer's block have all conspired against me. *sigh*. But we're in the homestretch now, with 3 more chapters to go.

Many thanks to Lady E of Van Diemen's land for the beating work and to the rest of you still reading. It's great to have and audience like you.

Chapter 22- Meanwhile, Back on the farm...we lied.

"Sing it loud

Sing it proud

I will be here

I will be found." Manic Street Preachers.

"I put that needle on the record, just to make a sound..." Boromir smiled to himself as he listened to the beginning of "That Song" by The Bouncing Souls.

Wriggling around on the lumpy ground, he finally lay still when he found a relatively clear path of ground. Sighing, he closed his eyes in order to get a better kick out of the song.

It had been a long time since he had been able to just lie around and listen to music with the sun shining on his face, so he was utterly determined to get as much enjoyment out of it as possible.

He had been there for several minutes when someone kicked him in the knee.

Cracking one eye open, he gave his sister a glare before closing his eyes and going back to his music.

"Gee thanks for the enthusiastic greeting." Celly retorted as she flopped down beside Boromir and turned the cd player up just a notch.

"What the hell do you want me to say? Oh Celebrian! It's been ages! I'm utterly relieved that you have come back to me!!" Boromir replied sarcastically, not bothering to get up or to open his eyes.

"That's much better, thanks." Celly replied, rolling over onto her side and propping her head up with her hand so she could watch Boromir.

"You're welcome. Next time you come home from McGill, I'll remember to throw a parade."

Celly reached over and punched him in the shoulder, getting a small perverse satisfaction of seeing him wince at the shot.

"Little shit."

Boromir grinned at that. "I missed you, you do realize." he told her, opening his eyes and looking up at her. Even though they had known each other for what seemed an eternity, he still got overwhelmed at the perfect beauty that his sister had. Those dark grey eyes and the perfect oval of her face framed by the thick silvery hair she had inherited from her father.

She wrinkled her nose at him and flicked some hair out of his face.

"What are you looking at?" she asked as she fiddled with one of the four braids she had tied her hair up in. She had decided in January to give up the spikes and was now wearing her hair in braids or in loose, multi-coloured waves that no one could help touching.

"Your big fat head." He replied without thinking, cringing after he had heard what he just said.

Celly only looked at him and Boromir expected her to give him a good thump across the head for saying such a stupid and bizarre thing.

"My head's not that big! Why does everyone keep saying that!?"

Boromir's eyes widened and he snorted in laughter at her reply.

Celly grinned at her little brother as she reached over and mussed up his hair just like she used to do when he was younger.

"Invader Zim. Gotta love Jhonen Vasquez."

"Hell yeah. Johnny the Homicidal Maniac..he he."

Celly snickered. "So anything new in your corner of the universe then, kid?"

Boromir wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes and took a deep breath before he spoke.

"Lots of shit. Danny bought Glor a promise ring, same with Ken and Yohji. They're planning to get married in Toronto at the end of the school year."

Celly's eyebrows shot up at the news. "Ken and Yotan? No way! Why so soon?"

Boromir grinned widely at his sister's reaction. "Ken got drafted by Newcastle, that's why! They want him there for the July training, so he wants to get married and take Yotan to England with him."

Celly nodded. "That's so fucken good! I'm so stoked for Ken man! How are the priests taking it?"

"Father Maxwell is totally cool with it, but Father Sanzo kind of wants him to finish University first."

Celly nodded. "I can see why he would want that, but I'm sure Ken's gonna do that in the summer or with spring classes or something, right?"

Boromir nodded. "Yeah, he is. He told Father Sanzo he would finish his degree even if it killed him, so that's no problem at all. Yotan has been walking around in a complete daze for the last couple of weeks, it's kind of cool to see both of them so happy."

Celly smiled. "For sure. I mean, we all knew dear old Kenken had it in him, but to see him actually make it..." she shook her head and laughed slightly. "It feels like we just gave the system another kick in the balls by him pulling through, right?"

"Hell yeah." Boromir replied wistfully as he thought about his possible chance for a position in the English League.

Celly frowned and reached over to stroke his hair. They sat in silence for several moments, the only sound being the Bouncing Souls playing hard in the background, since Celly knew how painful the subject was for her little brother even though he hadn't said so in so many words. When enough time seemed to have passed, Celly asked about the rest of Usual Suspects.

"Well, we're not sure about them, but it's a given fact that Mr Haldir and Mr. Fujimiya are screwing like bunnies."

Celly laughed. "It's about fucken time! Those two have been circling around each other for years!"

"Yeah..well, the good news is that they've all sort of mellowed out and it's sort of weird. Arwen's knocked up and out of the school. Eowyn's also knocked up, but she's staying at St. Ig's."

Celly's eyes practically bugged out of their sockets by the last piece of news that Boromir ever so casually delivered to her.

"Oh my god! No wonder Eomer was so pissed when I came over! Christ! What did their uncle say?"

Boromir shrugged. "He wasn't weird or anything. He just asked Max if he was going to take responsibility for the kid, cause if he wasn't, then he wasn't going to let him see Eowyn again."

Celly shook her head. "Christ! That was simple!"

"No shit. Max was all like no problem, so him and Eowyn are still all over each other and asking me if you and Eomer are going to have kids anytime soon."

Celly wrinkled her nose at that. "Are you kidding me!? I'm still doing my Master's! Besides, Eomer is what? Seventeen? Eighteen? No fucken way I want to raise two more kids on top of my studies. Besides" She added as she pointed a finger at him. "You and Faramir were enough! God the shit I had to pull you out of!"

Boromir sat up and looked at her with smirk on his face.

"Aww come on! I didn't hear you bitching when you bailed us out. And if I recall correctly, you were there to help pull some of those stunts."

Celly tried to look severe, but failed miserably when she cracked up laughing.

"So how's Aragorn been?" Celly asked. But the second the words were out of her mouth she realized it was the wrong thing to ask.

"Not good." he replied tersely. He sat up and wrapped his arms around his legs as he turned his gaze on the sunflowers that the Barton's were growing in their front yard. It was a nice change from the toilet they had had there for what seemed like forever.

Boromir didn't reply and kept his arms wrapped tightly around his knees. Celly waited for him to speak, but Boromir stubbornly clung to his silence and to the sleeves of his shirt.

Her eyes grew dark when an unwelcome thought popped up in her mind.

Without warning, she reached out and grabbed one of Boromir's arms. Although surprised, Boromir did nothing to stop her and instead just watched as his sister pulled up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal numerous cuts cris-crossing and overlapping each other. Some where fresh, as was evidenced by the dark crusting of blood, while others were dark brown and peeling in patches.

"Shit." She sighed. If Boromir's arms were that messed up, she could only imagine how much worse Faramir's arms were. It looked like she had come just in time.

She shook her head and let go of Boromir. Although she understood why he had chosen to deal with his pain and frustration in such a manner, she still didn't approve of it.

"At least he's not slicing his veins open." she thought and smiled humourlessly. At least there was something to be salvaged from the situation.

Boromir lowered his eyes to the ground and pulled the sleeve down.

"What's wrong?" Celly asked, making Boromir make a soft hissing noise.

"Where do you want me to start?" He asked tersely. "It seems like ever since Theoden was found dead, he's changed. And not for the better either."

Celly wanted to scream right about then since she was utterly exasperated with having to deal with all the romantic crisis that Boromir and Aragorn *always* seemed to face. But the news of Theoden's death shocked her enough to make her chuck that impulse out the window.

"When the hell did that happen?" She asked, flipping her hair back.

"Mid January. Some old lady found him in Schwartzwalde with some girl."

Celly blinked at the news. "Shit man." Boromir nodded.

"Yeah. The girl had no memory of how she got there, but the cops found her fingerprints all over the gun. They think that Theoden tried to make her do something she didn't want and she got the better of him in the end." Boromir lifted up his hand and mimicked shooting himself in the head, making Celly shudder at the gory image that popped up in her head.

"Didn't Eomer tell you anything about it?" Boromir asked curiously.

Celly shook her head. "Didn't even give a hint of it when we talked. But then again, it wasn't as if they were a close-knit family or anything."

Boromir nodded. "Yeah, but still it was a big deal when it happened. Masses were held and all that crap at St. Ig's."

Celly's mouth thinned. "Yeah, I know. They always have to hold masses at that school. It seems that there's always someone dying there." She shuddered at the morbid comment and focussed on the original conversation.

"How's the girl?" She asked quietly.

Boromir shook his head. "She's in the hospital last I read. The story didn't last that long in the papers. I don't even think it made it to the national level, to tell you the truth."

Celly nodded. "So it was a pretty clear-cut case, right? Or do you think that some other forces were at work?"

Boromir laughed shortly and laid his chin on his knees before shrugging.

"For the cops and the official records, yes. Unofficially, I know that's not the truth."

Celly swallowed hard. "Please tell me that Aragorn wasn't the one that did it."

Boromir shook his head. "No. It wasn't him."

Celly nodded and let out a breath she didn't even know she had been holding. "Who did it?"

"I don't know. I don't want to know." Boromir told her fiercely.

"Would you have done it if Aragorn had been the one that had been injured?"

Boromir didn't reply to her question right away. He just placed his forehead on his knees and sat there for several minutes before finally speaking.

"I've been thinking about it, ya know? Ever since that day. Ever since Casey apologized and said goodbye to me."

Celly stiffened at the mention of Casey. "He didn't do anything, did he?"

Boromir shook his head. "No. He just apologized and left. Besides, Yohji and Thom were there." he pointed out.

"Aah. So ka." Celly muttered. Boromir smirked briefly before becoming pensive again.

"You know, it's fucken crazy how sometimes someone has pissed you off and hurt you so badly that you want to kill them. The desire is there and you think that you can pick up the knife or gun and end their life..but how many of us can really do that?"

He paused and blew some stray hairs out of his face.

"I used to think that yeah, I could do it. For sure. But then when I really started thinking about it..and now, seeing how fucked up and eaten up with guilt Aragorn is and hell, he was close to killing him, but he didn't..and he's in so much pain because of that." Celly pulled one of her braids and thoughtfully began to chew on the ends of it as she listened to Boromir pour out his heart and worries to her.

"I probably would have been able to kill when I was younger. When I was so angry and callous that I would have been inured against the pain. But now? No. I haven't the right. Nor would I be able to live with myself for the rest of my life."

Celly spit out her hair and looked at Boromir sharply.

There was something different about him, something that hadn't been there before. She could see it in the depth of his eyes, the tilt of his head.

Her eyes narrowed as she kept on studying him as she tried to figure out exactly what the change in him was. Then it hit her.

Boromir had grown up.

The old Boromir of even a year ago wouldn't have come to that conclusion. He wouldn't have even given a second thought to going out and killing someone that had hurt him and his. He would have done it and fuck the consequences.

But that was before Aragorn came around. Even with Lee around, he would have remained a hard man. But Aragorn, despite all the shit that they had either gone through or put each other through, had made Boromir leave his reckless impulses behind and begin to take the first steps of growing up.

"What the hell are you staring at?" She coughed and looked away, embarrassed at being caught.

"Admiring my stunning looks, were you?" Boromir teased her, earning himself another shot to the arm.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not a big fan of incest, kiddo" she replied tartly.

Boromir stuck out his tongue at her and rubbed hard at his arm to ease the pain of the blow. Once it had receded somewhat, he ventured to ask his sister why she had been looking at him with such an odd expression on her face. An expression that he really couldn't figure out since it seemed to be a mixture of surprise mingled with pride and a touch of sadness.

"So what was the deal then?" he asked softly.

"I was just thinking about how you've grown up over the past little while." She replied as she reached over and cupped his cheek. "You've changed so much ever since you met Aragorn. I mean, I know that humans are always changing and aren't like us, but still...it kind of taken me by surprise now I finally noticed the change within you."

She laughed a small laugh that was both a sound of joy and a sound of sorrow.

"I think I know how mother feels now. Why she's been slowly withdrawing away from all of you. It must be a hundred times worse for her to see this happen to all of you. To me." She added the last like an after-thought, finally understanding the logic that lay behind her mother's actions.

Boromir nodded and covered her hand with his.

"But it's not something that neither of us can help. People change regardless of our wishes."

Boromir laughed bitterly. "Tell me about it. Aragorn has changed so much that I don't know him anymore. I can't reach him. I can't touch him. I don't even know if there's anything left to salvage."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm down.

"You know, when we had that huge fight, Lee told me that I wasn't being fair in protecting Aragorn so much, treating him like he was a fragile thing. He told me to let him be strong. To let him stand by me no matter what. But the way he reacted to Theoden..." he shook his head and clamped his mouth shut to prevent any sobs from escaping, but his chin still trembled, making Celly forget the maturity she had sensed in him earlier and pull him close into a tight hug.

Boromir let out a few choked sniffs and sobs and tried to get away from Celly, but she held on until her little brother's pride and stubbornness wore out and he sank bonelessly into her and finally let himself find comfort in her arms.

He cried and cried, choking, harsh sobs that hurt both physically and mentally as they tore themselves from his body and left him utterly exhausted in the strong bastion of Celly's arms.

"How do you feel now?" Celly whispered as she tilted her little brother's face up to hers and wiped the tear-tracks away with her thumb. Boromir sighed and smiled a thin, crooked smile.

"Like shit. But I'll live."

"Good." Celly replied. She was about to add more when her stomach growled, loudly and embarrassingly. She was mortified, but Boromir just laughed.

"You wanna go inside and get something to eat then?" He asked mischievously.

"Yeah. Sounds like a plan. Then you can wash your face and visit with Lee while I go put away some of my crap." She let Boromir go and stood up with that quicksilver fluidity that only elves seemed endowed with and cracked her stiff back and stretched out as far as she could to loosen her kinked up limbs.

"How long are you going to stay?" Boromir asked as he painfully struggled to stand up without any help. Celly ignored him, knowing full well he would flip if she had simply hauled him up to his feet. So she let him have his pride and watched his progress out of the corner of her eye. Besides, she was grateful for the time it gave her to hone the plan that had been growing in her mind ever since she had noticed Boromir's maturity.

"A few weeks, I'm afraid. I got a job being a tour guide in Old Montreal this year. It pays good money and it gives me some extra kudos for my program so it would be stupid for me to give it up." she explained, ignoring the small ache she felt at not being able to spend the summer with Eomer.

"I know. But it's still shitty." Boromir muttered as he finally stood up.

"Yeah, but what can you do?" She asked as she took her cue and walked back to the house; her plan slowly building itself up in her mind to full completion.

Boromir and Aragorn were going to get back together today. Even if it required pulling every trick in the book. Those two needed each other and she was going to be damned if she was going to let them separate without a fight.

~*~*~*~**~~**~

"What's on your mind?" Legolas asked when Boromir sat down beside him on the couch.

Boromir grimaced at the question before replying.

"Is it that obvious that something's bothering me?" He asked as he arranged his crutches beside him before sinking down on the soft cushions of the couch and looking at Legolas.

Legolas smiled at his friend before reaching over and tucking an errant strand behind the oft-pierced ear.

"It wouldn't be, for other people. But this is me you're talking to Seb." The elf reminded his friend, making him smile slightly, easing the strained look on his face as he did so.

"He. Yeah...I should have remembered that." He closed his eyes as he stretched out his arms and let them dangle over the back of the sofa.

He remained unmoving for several minutes before Legolas got impatient and gave him a hard poke.

"It's Aragorn that's got me worried, Lee." Boromir replied, wincing slightly as he rubbed his ribs. Legolas sure knew how to make his pokes hurt.

Legolas frowned at the answer. "He's still not talking to you?" Boromir shook his head, his smile disappearing.

"No and it's worse than how it was before Christmas...when everything happened." He concluded lamely, letting his head fall back onto the sofa.

"I'm just worried that he's going to get as bad as he did after his mother died."

Legolas frowned and smoothed out his shirt over his large belly.

"He's not that bad yet, I don't think." He whispered, hoping that Boromir was wrong and that Aragorn was down and not taking a mental holiday as was his wont when unable to handle emotional stress.

"I don't know how he was back then. I don't know how he started to go that way, that's why I'm worried! I don't want him to get locked up again! The hospital isn't the right place for him and I'm worried that he'll end up inside his head, refusing to come out and deal with everything properly for the rest of his life!"

Legolas winced at both Boromir's outburst and at the sudden kick one of his children decided to dole out to him.

"Quit that you!" he exclaimed, rubbing at his belly. "That bloody hurt!"

Boromir turned his head and looked at Legolas' belly, caressing it gently.

"Being active again?" He asked his tone lighter than it had been moments before.

"Yeah. I know I should be glad that they're moving around so much, but it gets to be a bit tiring after they've been keeping me up half of the night with their constant squirming."

Boromir smiled. "I'll bet you'll be glad when they're born, huh?"

Legolas rolled his eyes. "You kidding man?! Ecstatic will be more like it! I've been lying around so much that I'm giving Lembas a run for his money for laziness!"

Boromir laughed at that. "It's not like you can help it, Leaf."

"Yeah. I know. I know it's good for the babies, but I still feel like some kind of lazy slob being in bed and relying on everyone for everything." Legolas replied lightly. But the dark light in his eyes said otherwise.

Boromir reached over and squeezed his friend's shoulder gently. Although he knew Legolas tried not to make it a big deal, he also could feel the impatience and worry emanating from his friend despite the effort the elf made to hide it from him and everyone else.

"It will be over shortly, Lee. Don't worry so much." Boromir soothed, his hand moving from his shoulder down to the elf's slim back, which he began to rub in comforting circles.

"I know... but.." Legolas broke off and shook his head. Boromir had enough on his plate worrying about Aragorn and working at his rehabilitation. He didn't want to add to his friend's burdens anymore than was necessary.

It had been hard for Legolas to not be able to wander as freely as he had always been able to. Although he tried to not let it get to him, it was still galling to be corralled in pretty much one place.

After his hospital stay, it had been decided that he would be much better off at the Strider house, since all the bedrooms were on one floor and there was plenty more room than at the Lothlorien's house were he and Aragorn had been staying and sharing a bed with Faramir. As much as he had enjoyed the intimacy, his growing belly had made it uncomfortable and necessary for him to have a bed all to himself.

Legolas didn't mind the change too much, since Faramir, Aragorn and Galadriel had all come to live with him, although it was tacitly understood that they were there to take care of him. He had tried to make the best of it, and having Boromir come to live with them at the end of January had eased the transition.

But the physical discomfort and the boredom was starting to wear him thin. That and Aragorn's deepening descent into depression was taking its toll on him, making him prone severe mood-swings as well as less tolerant of the back-aches, pokes and prods and food cravings that his children demanded from him.

"It's okay. I know it's hard for you. You don't have to deal with it all by yourself, you know. You do have Faramir, me and even Aragorn, despite everything." Boromir re-assured him as he straightened up and pulled Legolas close, careful not to jostle him any more than was necessary.

Legolas tried to resist the embrace and remained stiff in Boromir's arms, but the warmth and security that they offered was enough to melt his resistance. In seconds, he had moulded himself to Boromir's arms and was now lying against him, his head against his friend's chest as he did so.

"I know. But I don't want to lay this on you right now! Especially not when Aragorn is in such a state." Legolas whispered, breathing in the warm scent of mandarins that emanated from Boromir's clothes.

"Yeah, well, You're also in need of help, Lee. Don't sell yourself short. I know how hard it can be..being a total invalid and trying to keep a good face for everyone else while you're screaming in impotent rage inside your head."

Hearing Boromir say those words made Legolas feel ashamed that he had ever complained.

"Even more reason for me not to complain. Shit, I'm such a whiner, going on and on about myself when you have to face such long odds."

Boromir shook his head. "Don't worry about me for now. Right now, just concentrate on yourself. You want to vent, go ahead. I'll listen."

Legolas nodded, but still felt bad about taking the comfort that was being offered to him. After all, he was just waiting for his children to be born and he would be fine once again. Boromir..well, it was still a question mark over whether he would completely get over his injuries.

The doctors hadn't been at all optimistic about Boromir ever walking again after three weeks had passed and there was little change in his condition. Although he had steadily gained more sensation in his legs as well as some slight movement, there was very little indication that he would be able to walk again.

Nevertheless, Boromir had started rehabilitation once the doctors were sure that the vertebrae were fully healed. At first it had been a painful and fruitless thing, since Boromir's legs were still fairly weak from the fractures and the forced inactivity.

The doctors had been ready to pull him out of the program, since they were worried that if Boromir pushed himself too hard, he would retard his healing and end up in a wheelchair again. They hadn't counted on Boromir's stubbornness, or his determination to walk again.

Much to their surprise, he had made amazing strides and had moved from taking tottering steps with the aid of braces and a walker to forearm crutches in four months. It was an encouraging sign that he had made so much progress in such a small time frame, but the doctors weren't fully convinced that Boromir would completely recover.

"Still thinking about me, are you?" Lee's head shot up at the soft question and he felt himself blushing at being caught.

"Do you think about it?" Legolas asked back in return, making Boromir stiffen.

"I try not to." He finally replied after several minutes of thinking it over.

"It was hard at first. Especially when I just woke up. I would wonder constantly what I'd do if I couldn't walk again. Sometimes, when it got really bad, I would just assume that I wouldn't be able to and I'd try to resign myself to it. Doing that was better than living with false hope."

Legolas nodded.

"And now?"

Boromir shrugged. "Still not quite decided as to whether I should hope or not."

The tone was careful and extremely neutral, signifying that topic was better left untouched.

Legolas frowned, but he wasn't going to prod. The boundary had been set, he wasn't about to cross it.

An awkward silence followed snd was only broken by Boromir's soft whisper. "Although I'm still hoping that I will play for the English League sometime soon Hell, I'll even take Newcastle, if it comes to that."

Legolas bit his lip at the statement in a weak effort to keep his tears at bay before he buried his face deeper into Boromir's chest, both of them trying to keep that thin veneer of bravado up.

They remained locked in silence, with Legolas struggling not to cry and Boromir mechanically stroking his hair until they were both composed enough to carry on the conversation that had taken a severe digression.

"What can be done about Aragorn?" Boromir asked, his voice wavering slightly, but still firm as he spoke. He would have plenty of time to pity himself later. After all, he had come to Legolas to get help for Aragorn, who was in desperate need of being saved from himself.

Legolas shuddered as he swallowed the tears that were choking him and took the opening that Boromir was offering both of them with alacrity.

"I am afraid that I can't offer any advice in dealing with him." he admitted after much internal debate.

"Nothing?" Boromir asked him, his voice so soft and strained that it sounded like it was close to breaking.

"Nothing, I'm afraid." he fell silent as he thought about his volatile brother, whose moods seemed like mercury under glass; moving so quickly and so passionately that they were hard to catch or even predict.

Aragorn truly was a man apart; no one really could pin him down and point out exactly what he was or what he would be. He was a surprise to them all. No one, not even the older elves, could understand what was going on in his head unless he told them.

The stream of his thoughts was broken by Boromir's anxious voice. "Is it really that hard to get him some kind of help?"

Legolas shook his head, his brows furrowing as he tried to put the errant streams of thoughts in words. "Yes and no. It's...stupid and clichéd to say this, but in Aragorn's case, the easiest way to explain it is that it's difficult. Extremely difficult because of who he is. I'm serious. Before you came along, he simply *was*."

Boromir stiffened at Legolas' words.

"How the hell is that applicable to him? Aragorn, of all people, seems to be so, so, alive. How can he have been simply existing? It doesn't make sense, the idea of him like that."

Legolas raised his head and stared at Boromir before he continued.

"To you. To me. He's let us in. He's let us see more of himself than anyone else in the school has. I swear that when he was going out with Arwen and Eowyn, he never seemed like he was all fully there. It was kind of like what Ken said to me about you and I. We seemed dead without each other. I'm not saying he was mean or uncaring, but he always seemed to be looking at everyone in his circle with this opaque wall between himself and his emotions. No one could get really close to him. He would interact with them on a surface level and then..nothing."

Boromir swallowed hard. "Didn't anyone else notice this?"

Legolas laughed softly. " He plays the part all too well for others to notice that there's anything amiss. He's a great actor when he wants to be. When he wants to exclude the rest of the world. He's had to lock a lot of himself up in the past, since if he hadn't he wouldn't have survived being with his family. It's been a recent thing, him actually being as open as he has been with us."

Boromir bit his lip. "Was he then pretending with me? I don't understand exactly how he could have been so reserved since we pretty much shared all of our pasts with each other."

Legolas shook his head sharply at the pain-filled question.

"No. Don't ever fool yourself into thinking that he was like that with you. He loves you. With everything he has. He wouldn't ever try that with any of us. So don't start thinking that unless you want to get into another misunderstanding and make this a bigger problem than it seems."

Boromir frowned. "You're right. But what should I do? I'm no closer to getting a solution for Aragorn's problem than I was before and now you have thrown all this cryptic and confusing information about Aragorn in my lap and I don't know what to think."

Legolas sighed heavily before rubbing his eyes in exasperation.

The sad truth of it was that Boromir was right. There wasn't any useful information imparted right there. Nothing at least, that could help unlock the stubborn silence that Aragorn had sunk himself into.

"Boromir...I'm offering as much advice and comfort as I can in this situation, mainly cause I think that right now, we can't do anything about Aragorn. No one can, really. That was the way it was the other time too. He simply pulled himself out of it. We helped get him out, but we don't know what or who the catalyst was. He just does it." Legolas finished lamely.

The silence that fell after that statement lasted for several moments before Boromir finally spoke.

"He was hurt severely this time too. Maybe even more so, since he nearly killed someone. Do you believe he'll be able to pull himself together again?"

Legolas thought about it before he gave a careful reply.

"I have to believe he will." he turned to look at his best friend. "Do you?"

Boromir's brows drew together as he thought about Legolas query. But he could give his friend no definite answer.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Aragorn was sitting on the edge of his bed, his notebook open and a pen clutched in his hand. But no matter how hard he tried to put the cool ideas or his feelings down on the page, nothing would appear. The black ink would stay in the ballpoint pen and the tip would make a dent on the paper and it would still stay the same.

He had tried to write what was bothering him out. He had often debated doing it in the past, but hadn't really gotten the compulsion to do so until now. He needed to write out all the emotions and the worries that were running through his mind. He couldn't tell anyone about them, so maybe the written word would be a better option.

But so far, every time he had opened the notebook, it had remained blank and he had gotten more and more frustrated with his lack of an outlet.

He sighed and put the pen and notebook down on the bed and walked over to the silent stereo. The CD had stopped minutes ago, but he hadn't bothered to get up and change it or press play again. He thought the silence would have helped him start writing.

It seemed that was an utter failure.

He pressed the play button and flopped down when the strains of the Manic Street Preachers started again.

He rolled over and looked our the window. It was promising to be another nice day again.

Aragon was starting to hate nice days.

He hated spring. Hated the warm stickiness of the days. Hated the people all pretending to be happy. Hated the smiling couples with their idiotic offspring.

He loved fall. And winter. It was always nice and forgiving in those times. In Spring it felt like everything was more harsh and more glaring. Death was more vivid. Pain was more fierce.

Mistakes became more focused and clearer, glimmering under the spotlight in all their distorted glory, reminding you of all the sins that had been committed in the past and sins that would be committed in the time to come.

The apathy and the self-pity had taken a hold of him and they were not about to let go. He didn't mind. That was all fine. As long as he didn't have to feel anything, he was fine with having those two dark companions with him,

Nothing would hurt. Nothing would ache. Nothing would make him happy. He felt that it was all okay. It was all fine that way. There didn't need to be a need for colours to look bright. For dreams to be thought about in the night. Everything was gray and that was fine.

He wondered if it was odd that he couldn't see any colours. All he saw was faded and muted. Nothing had the brightness that it used to when he was happy.

He sighed as he rubbed at his eyes. Maybe he was just pushing himself too hard. Stressing himself out unnecessarily.

The door opened softly, so softly that he didn't react until he heard the soft voice whispering practically in his ear.

"Doing penance again are we?"

He was so startled that he jumped and crashed right into the desk that he had forgotten was there.

"Ha fucken ha." Aragorn growled as he rubbed at his hip and glared at Celly, who was watching him with her arms crossed against her chest, her grey eyes narrow slits in her face as she did.

"No? So what where you doing? Sulking in the dark was going to be my guess."

Aragorn scowled at her as he kept on rubbing his sore hip.

"I'm not sulking, Celly." he replied testily as he limped back to his bed and flopped onto his back. He sighed before putting his arm over his eyes. It was bad enough that he couldn't concentrate enough to actually write even a few words in his notebook, and now he was going to have Celly start lecturing him about something or other. His day was just going great indeed.

"Then exactly what the hell are you doing?" Celly asked, in an exasperated voice.

"Nothing. " Aragorn replied before rolling over onto his side and fixing his gaze firmly out the window.

Celly rolled her eyes and marched over to the bed and poked Aragorn hard in the back as she continued her diatribe regarding his behaviour.

"From what I've heard, you've barely come out of your room ever since you came back from mom and dad's place, you barely say more than three words to Boromir, much less anyone else and you expect me not to be worried?"

Aragorn growled and violently sat up on his bed, his dark blue eyes gleaming dangerously as he glared at Celly.

"I don't need for you to be worried about me, Celebrian. I'm gonna do fine on my own."

Celly's grey eyes went silver as she glared at Aragorn.

"Give me a bit more credit than that, *Estel*"

Aragorn winced at the iciness of Celly's voice, but did nothing. He deserved that. After all, he was acting like a prick towards someone that was pretty much his *sister*. He deserved anything that he got from her.

But even though he knew he was being unfair, he didn't feel like being anything but.

"There's nothing you can do for me except leave me alone. I don't need anyone to be hovering over me. I just need time."

Celly rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest. Her hands clenched her elbows tightly, making Aragorn wonder whether the action was to prevent her from doing something that she would later regret.

"I told you already, Estel. Give me more credit than that. I'm twenty-five years old and practically raised Boromir and Faramir. I can smell bullshit a kilometre away and that is exactly what you're feeding me right now. I'm not my brothers, nor am I Legolas to swallow all the lines that you're feeding them. Do me a fucken favour and be honest with me for once."

Aragorn felt his hackles rise at the cool comments Celly was making. There was truth in them, that he couldn't deny. He had been lying to everyone whenever they demanded an answer regarding his mental and emotional state. He had known he was doing it despite realizing that it was the most unfair thing that he could do to them, especially to Boromir.

It had been such an easy trap to fall into though, he admitted ruefully to himself.

Once he had gotten over the shock of nearly having killed Theoden, he couldn't bear to burden anyone with the guilt that was overwhelming him.

The guilt that didn't seem to ease up no matter how many times he went to Church, or how many times he prayed or went to visit Theoden's grave or how long he spent with Eowyn.

He couldn't get over the fact that he had been ready to kill another human being. Even though he was justified in doing so, the realization that he could have come so close to ending someone else's life was something that he was utterly horrified by.

This guilt, along with his horror, only added to severe self-loathing that he tried to keep at bay before it utterly consumed him and turned him into the type of person that he loathed.

Although he was successful in keeping it locked up and away from everyone that he cared about, he knew he was paying a heavy price in doing so, since keeping it away took most of his energy and left him with little or no desire to be around anyone, much less talk to them. Not to mention that he was slowly losing himself and knowing full well what was happening to him.

And the sad part was that he didn't care enough to stop himself from falling down that slope.

"Allright then! What the hell do you want to hear from me?!" Aragorn snapped back.

"What the fuck happened in January? What the hell hurt you so badly you're running scared?"

Aragorn's anger melted at the questions and his insides felt as if they had suddenly chilled.

He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to stem the flood of panic that was going through him at the memory of that night.

Celly waited patiently, her eyes softening only slightly as she watched Aragorn's hands fluttering like nervous birds; moving from his hair, to his face until they finally rested in his pockets. After they had found refuge in his pockets, Aragorn fixed his gaze on the ground and stared at the patterns in the rug for several minutes before he finally spoke.

"Theoden." He mumbled, making Celly's face harden at the name.

"What about him?" She queried coolly.

Aragorn snorted faintly before looking up at her. "I nearly killed him."

Celly's eyebrows shot up so far that they nearly ended up into her hair-line. Although she had already heard it, the flatness of Aragorn's voice made the fact more stark and more concrete than it had been under the warm spring sun.

"That day we went to the orphanage." Celly frowned at this information. Aragorn paused, took a deep breath and was silent.

"Please. Go on." the elf encouraged him, knowing that Aragorn needed to bleed the poison off that recollection.

Aragorn laughed shortly.

"Thom, Casey and I went after him. I wasn't supposed to be there in the first place. Thom didn't want me there, cause he thought I would break. He said it wasn't my place, nor was it my world."

He ran his hands through his hair again and savagely yanked his fingers through the dark tangles that were now shot with silver threads.

"I wish I had listened to him." He whispered brokenly. "I shouldn't have been there."

He fell bonelessly to his knees, his hands now covering his mouth as he tried to stifle the loud, hoarse sobs that were tearing themselves out of his throat.

"It was the worst thing I could have ever done in my life, trying to kill someone..."

The words were harshly spoken and were almost lost in the sobs, but Celly heard them and tried not to wince at the pain inside of them.

"Poor Aragorn." She whispered tenderly. He didn't deserve the guilt he had put upon himself.

Celly sighed softly and knelt down beside him, gently coaxing him into her arms like a skittish puppy. Once he was secure in her arms, Celly rocked him back and forth, letting him cry himself out and leach the poison that had been eating at him for months.

He cried for what seemed hours, the hoarse sobs turning to keening that became hiccuping moans until finally there was shuddering silence in the room. Celly still kept on rocking him, not wanting to stop until she was absolutely sure that the crying had stopped.

After a few minutes of silence, she stopped moving and waited for something. A sudden movement. A moan.

There was nothing. Curious, she pushed Aragorn's damp hair back and was surprised to see him asleep, his eyelashes resting on his flushed and tear-stained cheeks, his breathing deep and even. Seeing him that way made her smile a bit and wipe the tear-stains from his face. As she did so, she couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"You're a good kid, watch yourself, she'll break your heart..." She shook her head as the lyrics ran through her head. Not quite the words she was looking for, but close. She smiled a bit and re-arranged herself so that both she and Aragorn were more comfortable and remembered more of the song.

Her brows furrowed as she picked through the maze of her thoughts until the words came to her.

"Is it true when we get old

our hearts die?

I heard it in a movie once

and I think I know why

Life sucks so bad it makes you wanna die."

She nodded to herself. Yep. It made sense. She just hoped that Aragorn didn't feel that way about life anymore after letting himself finally talk about what happened. She also hoped that talking about it, as unpleasant as it was, would be the next step in getting him back no normal.

No matter how painful that would be at first.

She wasn't surprised that he had worn himself out so severely. All those pent up emotions and no release for months...Celly shuddered. As much as she hated the fact that her brothers would cut themselves when they felt their emotions, they knew enough to seek release rather than let their emotions eat them alive.

'Let's hope you learn a better way to deal with this." She muttered as she shifted her weight a bit in a futile effort to get comfortable. But it seemed like it wasn't really going to happen.

She tried a few positions, wriggling only slightly as not to wake Aragorn when she finally gave up. The pins and needles in her legs were just getting worse with every change.

Frowning, she pushed Aragon off and stood up painfully and slowly to ease the feelings back. Once that had been done, she picked the kid up with a little effort and shoved him on the bed.

She had wanted to maybe talk to him a bit more, but decided against it. She had laid the foundation for something to be worked out, but after that it was up to Boromir and Aragorn to actually fix their own problems.

Once she had decided on what to do, she let herself out of the room and headed to the living room. She had one more errand to do before raiding the kitchen.

~*~*~*~*~*

Aragorn awoke with a start. Disoriented, he looked around. Recognizing the art prints on the walls and the shelves of books, he closed his eyes in relief. He was in his own room. That was good. He wiped his face with his hand before rolling over and opening his eyes.

He didn't know what he was expecting to see, but Boromir lying on his bed hadn't been one of them.

"Evening. Did you sleep well?"

Which would explain why he ended up falling off the bed and landing on the carpet with a muffled thump.

He had been lying there for several seconds when Boromir's head appeared over the edge of the bed, his expression one of mortified shock and...

Aragorn narrowed his eyes. Was Boromir secretly *laughing* at him?

"Oh shit! Aragorn, you okay man?" Boromir asked as he looked at his boyfriend, his eyes glinting with both concern and amusement. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Aragorn shook his head and rubbed his hip, wincing when he touched the tender flesh. "Only my pride." he replied.

Boromir nodded. "So...why are you rubbing your hip then?"

Aragorn scowled and sat up. "Cause this is the *second* fucken time I hurt my hip today! All thanks to your family!"

Boromir grinned, despite knowing that *maybe* that wasn't a good idea at that time. "Crashed into the desk again, didn't you?"

Aragorn's face turned a dangerous shade of red at the casual remark. He opened his mouth to either yell or make some remark to his boyfriend when said person simply lost control and began to laugh at Aragorn.

"You did, didn't you?! That's like the *seventh* time you've done that this week!"

"Shut up! It's not!"

Boromir nodded, his laughter getting louder by the minute. "It is too! I've heard you swearing and crashing into it all the freaking time man!"

"Did not! That was Lembas!"

"Did too man! Why don't you just admit it?" Boromir asked as he rolled over and tapped Aragorn on the nose. "You're a freaking klutz. There's no shame in that, come on, repeat after me: I am a freaking klutz."

Aragorn growled before he swiftly grabbed Boromir's hand and his shirt and hauled him off the bed. He had planned for Boromir to land on the floor and not hurt himself too badly, but he had miscalculated both his strength and the distance and instead ended up hauling him too far, making the end result be him and Boromir on the floor, with said person on top of him.

"Soooo..." Boromir whispered when he found himself so close to Aragorn that their noses were nearly touching.

Aragorn swallowed hard. "Sooo..."

They fell silent for what seemed like an eternity, neither of them knowing exactly what to do or say at that point. After practically severing ties with each other for months, the unexpected intimacy was more than a little uncomfortable, to say the least.

"Ehm..." Boromir tried to find *anything* to say to ease the awkwardness between them, but at that moment, nothing came to mind apart from the feeling that he should get off of Aragorn and move away as far as possible and screw talking to him like Celly had suggested.

He laughed softly and was backing away slowly when Aragorn put his hands on his shoulders, making him freeze in place at the touch he had missed for so long.

"If you want I can leave" Boromir whispered, but Aragorn shook his head. He moved his hand until it was cupping his boyfriend's cheek and his thumb was softly caressing Boromir's lower lip.

Aragorn smiled slightly when Boromir's eyes widened for just a fraction of a second before they fell halfway closed and a soft moan escaped from his lips.

"I've missed the way you feel." Aragorn murmured as he caressed Boromir. "I tried to tell myself that I was wrong, that I didn't deserve to have your skin under my touch."

Boromir's eyes closed as he hungrily leaned into Aragorn's caress. "You made a mistake, that's all. We all have made those mistakes. You deserve to be loved as much as anyone else."

Aragorn closed his eyes. "Do I?"

"I could ask you the same thing. I have done things I am not proud of in my life. I stole. I lied. I hurt people long before I met you. I made many, many mistakes. So do I truly deserve to be happy with you?"

Aragorn opened his eyes and stared at Boromir long and hard. Boromir smiled slightly, finding something in his eyes that either amused or pleased him immensely.

"You understand that?" Aragorn nodded.

"But do you still think you don't deserve me?"

Aragorn didn't reply.

"Can I do anything to change your mind?"

Aragorn swallowed hard at the sudden seductive tone the question was infused with.

"You only have to give the word, Aragorn. Yes or no. It is all up to your whether you want to keep believing that you are evil, that you are worthless simply because of a mistake that you made. Or you can close that door behind you and leave all of that in the past and start over."

Aragorn's hand lay still on Boromir's face as he contemplated his decision. He could continue in the dark, grey limbo he had placed himself in, berating himself and never moving, never learning from his mistakes.

Or he could get enough courage to take that step and leave it all behind and move back in with the rest of the living and stop hiding behind a wall of silence.

"Show me."

Chapter 23: Beautiful Day

"Touch me

Take me to that other place

Teach me

I know I'm not a hopeless case." U2

Boromir smiled slowly, seductively as he began to kiss Aragorn's hand. He began to kiss the palm, his lips leaving a warm, wet trail down the soft skin.

Aragorn shuddered as his eyes rolled back into his head as waves of pleasure swept through first his arm and then through the rest of his body, filling his mind with waves of a pleasure so harsh and pure that it roused the hedonistic side of him.

"Mmm." Boromir smiled slightly at the muted moan and kept on kissing and licking until he reached Aragorn's shoulder. Once there, he pulled the shirt collar down to his lover's nipple and proceeded to gently bite both the puckered pink nipple and the area surrounding it.

Once he had felt the sharpness of teeth, Aragorn's eyes had widened and his body jerked. The sensation was amplified when Boromir started using his tongue as well, making the dark haired man's eyes widen even further before they slid shut.

Aragorn thought he was both in heaven and in hell. With each slow, lazy trail that Boromir's tongue made on his extremely sensitive skin, Aragorn felt as if his skin was slowly being stripped from him. Flesh, tissue, muscle. All seemed turn to water. Water that was being parted to let Boromir touch him in a deeper way than just skin to skin contact.

He let out a soft cry when Boromir's mouth left his body, his eyes opening slightly to search out the reason why his pleasure had been cut so short.

Boromir only smiled at his lover before he bent down and delicately kissed him. Aragorn moaned at the contact, savouring the taste and texture of his lover's lips; which put him in mind of fresh mandarins and delicate flowers. Another small moan issued from his throat when the kiss deepened and pure, strong warmth flooded his body, warming up the parts that he had thought were permanently frozen.

His body felt just like it did after stepping into a warm shower after spending a day out in the freezing cold of a January day. His chilled insides were slowly beginning to find the warmth that had eluded him during the months of his exile.

Aragorn's hands tightened in Boromir's hair, wordlessly asking for Boromir to deepen the kiss. Boromir complied and teased his lips open with his tongue, not stopping until he was exploring, touching and tasting every surface of his mouth, which made Aragorn press his body closer, wanting to get as close as possible to his lover to share both the warmth and the desire that was tingling down his body. A feeling that had been so absent from his life in so long that it seemed like he was just experiencing it for the first time.

He writhed under the weight of Boromir, creating friction between their groins as the kiss gained more intensity, then abruptly stopped.

His eyes slid open slightly. Although the ending of the kiss was unexpected, he wasn't at all put out by it. He knew that Boromir had a good reason for stopping it and he would gladly wait for it.

Boromir pulled away from him, making Aragorn give a small sound of disappointment at the loss of heat.

Boromir gave no indication that he had heard the small sound of disappointment. Instead, he applied himself to his task, which had become, as Aragorn quickly found out; undressing him as quickly as possible.

He expected his shirt to be the first thing to be stripped off and braced himself for the onslaught of cool air on his torso.

To his surprise, Boromir sat up and away from him, leaving him sprawled out under his gaze before he reached over and unbuttoned the top button of his trousers.

Aragorn gasped slightly as the zipper was pulled down. Boromir smiled slightly as he laid his hand on the waist band of Aragorn's boxers and gently began to caress the tender bit of exposed flesh that peeked out between the shirt and boxers.

Aragorn whimpered at the touch, his hips raising slightly in a wordless demand for his lover to do much more than that.

Boromir complied, caressing the small area in a circular motion, making the circles bigger with each turn until the circles were now being made right at the edge of Aragorn's groin; his fingers occasionally touching the soft, thick nest of pubic hair that lay hidden under his boxers.

Aragorn gasped and pressed himself into Boromir's hand, the need for more contact becoming an even ardent need as his desire became stronger. He let ouf a small soft noise when his hardening cock was gripped. Gently at first, then with more pressure as Boromir's hand found a rhythm that made him start to pant and moan loudly.

It almost hurt, the way that the pleasure was washing over him, rendering almost adrift in his own desire. For some reason, it scared him, the notion of being adrift.

It hadn't been that way when he had been with Faramir. It had been harsh and rough; neither of them had been worried about being gentle or taking their time. They had just jumped into it. At the end of it, he had felt as if he had been in a fight. There had been nothing romantic about that encounter.

It had been needed. Just like a slap in the face to wake up. To get back the centre of gravity after life had gone askew.

He hadn't felt like he was going to float away into the atmosphere and not come back for a long time. Rather, he had felt more grounded. More alive. More sure of everything that was happening in his life.

More despair than he had known in a long time.

The bitter sadness had suddenly come back, prompted by the memories of his night with Faramir and it was quickly eroding the bliss Boromir was producing in him.

In response, Aragorn let out a pitiful mewl and reached blindly with his hand for something to hang onto. An anchor of sorts to keep him afloat and not sinking into the vast black vortex that he oftentimes had pictured his mind had become in those long months of silence.

He was expecting to grab a piece of furniture, or some solid, inanimate object. Something that would keep him anchored to reality. That wasn't the case when instead of cold wood or metal, his hand found the soft warmth of human flesh.

Boromir squeezed Aragorn's hand, a gesture that the dark haired man found both touching and comforting at the same time. A touch that helped to push the fears away and heighten the heated glow that was the precursor to the bliss of an orgasm.

A part of his brain registered the fact that Boromir was slowly down, but he wasn't concerned about why that was the case, since his pleasure was being heightened and as long as that continued, nothing else in the world mattered.

He finally understood why Boromir was taking that route when his cock was enveloped in a deliciously tight and moist warmth.

"Unnnnhhh." the moan slipped from his lips involuntarily and his body arched, plunging deeper into the tight moisture.

He lost all coherent thought when his cock was being both sucked and caressed, the warmth and pressure increasing with every movement of Boromir's tongue. His back arched and his hips bucked and jerked out of their own accord as he was brought closer and closer.

It was almost painful, the way that it was all rushing towards its zenith. It was as if his body was speedily being drained of everything that it contained. Light flashed behind his eyelids, and his heart felt as if it was going to burst out of his chest as the motions and his breathing quickened.

His eyes squeezed shut and his hand tightened around Boromir's when it finally washed all over him, his body lying limply on the carpet as the last tremors of the orgasm swept through him, leaving him languid and peaceful.

He lay still for several moments, enjoying the warmth that enveloped his body, not bothering to move even when Boromir rolled over to the side and crawled up until his face was buried in his chest.

There was silence between them for what seemed ages before Boromir spoke.

"Was that enough proof?"

Aragorn cracked open an eye at the question , but remained silent as he studied Boromir's face. Even though they had been together for so long, the smooth planes of the other man's features, as well as the heavy-lidded eyes and sensuous lips never failed to move him.

Acting on that emotion, he reached out and gently caressed his face, brushing his fingers against those swollen lips, the strong lines of the jaw and cheekbones and the long locks of bright multi-coloured hair that framed it.

Boromir almost purred as he pressed his mouth against Aragorn's fingers, his eyes still narrowed as he watched his lover.

Aragorn smiled at the reaction, pressing his fingers harder against Boromir's mouth, feeling gratified when his wordless request was answered when his lover's lips parted and his fingers disappeared in the warm orifice that had given him so much pleasure earlier.

"Pleasure that you haven't returned." his mind whispered to him, dampening his desire a bit as he belatedly realised that he had only taken that day. Taken both physical and emotional comfort from Boromir and hadn't thought about giving anything back.

With that thought in mind, Aragorn pulled his fingers from Boromir' mouth and pulled the other man closer to him and kissed him.

At first, it was a soft kiss, all lips and tongue. He wasn't going to take it any further than that, clearly remembering what had happened all those times when he had tried to get any further with him. Taking it slow had been the order of the day whenever he and Boromir had indulged in heavy petting.

He was going to stick to the maxim if it hadn't been for Boromir grabbing his hands and pushing them down his pants.

Aragorn nearly jumped back at the sudden boldness, but Boromir clamped his arms around him and pulled him close. So he did the next best thing and violently broke off the kiss.

Boromir looked at him with a puzzled expression on his face.

"What?" he asked, his voice thick and breathy as he spoke.

"I hate to sound like a bad movie cliche, but are you sure?" Aragorn asked, his heart hammering in his chest as he stared into his lover's dark green eyes.

"I just put your hands down my pants, does that give you any clue as to what my answer is?"

Aragorn snickered softly before he leaned in and nipped Boromir's bottom lip.

"Just making sure." He whispered as he kissed him again.

"You *would* get extremely courteous in the middle of sex, wouldn't you?" Boromir asked dryly.

"It's a gift I try to cultivate."

There was dead silence from Boromir for about three seconds before he burst into a fit of insane laughter.

"Now *Who's* spoiling the moment?!" Aragorn yelled out in mock-indignation.

Boromir tried to reply, but he was laughing so hard that all he could do was shake his head.

Aragorn only waited and watched, knowing full well that the only way to deal with someone in that state was to simply wait it out.

"Not necessarily..." the evil voice in Aragorn's mind piped out.

"Oh right!!"

"Unnnhh!!!"

"Well, that was easy! Gotta remember that for the next time that Danny gets out of hand!" Aragorn thought as he squeezed his lover's equipment a little harder. As he did that, he frowned to himself.

"GOD!! Was I really thinking that?!" GOD!! EWW!!"

~*~*~*~*~

Thirty minutes later Aragorn's mind was filled with nothing but lust due to the delightful noises that were escaping from Boromir's lips as Aragorn slowly plunged inside of him, careful to keep a slow, steady rhythm in order to give as much pleasure to his boyfriend as possible.

"Unnhhh." Boromir moaned and placed his hands flat against the box-spring of the bed to brace himself. Even though they weren't having as rough a go as they did the second time, Aragorn was still trying to pound him through the mattress as he had promised through clenched teeth after he had stopped laughing.

He supposed maybe that was why the first time had been sort of weird.

He had stopped. He was all hell-bent on getting some nice nookie, but then Aragorn began to laugh and make disgusted retching noises as well. Which led to Boromir losing the mood and asking what the hell was going on.

After the explanation and the ten minutes of howled laughter, they had finally managed to calm down enough to get down to business.

But the mood just wasn't quite right.

It was good, but it felt sort of...odd. It was almost mechanical, the way that they ended up having sex and yet it was fairly awkward too, since it felt like they were dancing just slightly out of sync. It was still, good, but Boromir couldn't get the impression out of his head that they were reacting to the ghosts of past lovers.

Every touch felt off. Every gesture wasn't timed right. The tenderness was there, but felt misplaced.

Although it had been fairly good sex, Boromir wouldn't deny that he wasn't exactly heart-broken when it was over.

Aragorn must have been feeling the same, since he didn't speak during the ten minutes it took for them to clean up a bit and have a couple of smokes while hanging out the window; since Boromir had a thing about smoking inside the house.

After the smokes had been extinguished, Boromir had honestly thought that was it. He was about to go to his room when Aragorn literally tackled him to the ground.

Taken by surprise, Boromir had punched Aragorn, but he wouldn't let go. All he did was ignore the hit and roughly claim his mouth, not caring that he was getting bitten or if he was biting. He didn't stop the rough kiss, not even when he could taste blood and feel bruised flesh.

It was as if the blood he had tasted had made him forget everything and it wasn't until Boromir raked his nails down his back that he came back to earth.

After much wrestling and fighting for dominance, he had managed to mount Boromir and had proceeded in fucking him into oblivion.

Although it had left them practically exhausted and covered in bruises, blood and other bodily fluids, "the Fuck" had succeeded into erasing their first less-than-satisfactory "First Fuck" from their minds.

"Whoah." Boromir breathed out after a few moments of silence. "I never knew you had it in you to be that brutal!"

"You should talk!!" Aragorn shot back." Who was it that bit my shoulder until it bled?"

Boromir snorted in response, rolling over and glaring Aragorn through narrowed eyes.

"I frankly don't consider that sufficient payback for you*nearly* biting through my lip!"

Aragorn raised an eyebrow at this comment.

"Oh really? I didn't hear you bitching much about it."

"How can anyone bitch when their tongue is being sucked out of their mouth?"

Aragorn rolled his eyes and pulled Boromir closer to him. He stared into his lover's eyes for several moments, almost as if he was trying to memorize the exact shade and shape of them before he kissed him tenderly.

"Am I forgiven?"

Boromir tried to keep his stern expression, but the puppy eyes that Aragorn was giving him made it impossible to do it.

"Jerk." Aragorn smiled at that.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

Boromir laughed and was about to pull away from Aragorn when his lover's arms wrapped themselves around him and pulled him against him. They were so close that it felt almost as if their skin was bleeding together. As if they had truly become one with each other.

Aragorn couldn't explain what exactly he was feeling, only that it made him feel so good. As if that was the emotion that he had been looking for ever since he was a child. The warmth, the security. The feeling that he wasn't going to be alone any longer.

The feeling that he was finally with the person that mattered the most.

The person that he would gladly die for if it came to that.

For a moment, the realization of how much he loved Boromir was much too painful to bear. It was like the time when he was ready to kill himself. That severe moment of clarity that was so sharp and awful that it made his heart hurt.

But on the other side of that pain was relief and joy that nearly brought tears t his eyes.

He buried his face in Boromir's shoulder and inhaled the contrasting sharp scents in: Mandarins, a hint of Burberry perfume and their mixed musk and vowed not to forget them for as long as he lived.

They stayed that way, locked in a tight embrace for what seemed years until Boromir pulled away slightly.

He pulled away enough to look into Aragorn's eyes, not sure of the questions he was either asking or giving the answers to.

He didn't remember what happened next. Only that they were kissing, caressing, moving with such a matched fluidity that no words needed to be exchanged.

Even though Boromir was reaching his peak, he didn't want this particular episode to finish. It was sheer perfection , the way that Aragorn was touching him, the way that their bodies moved and reacted in perfect motion to each other's caresses.

Aragorn whispered something in his ear, but he missed it, since he had also chosen that moment to thrust and get Boromir over the edge.

"Uhnnn." Hearing that moan combined with the way that his lover tightened around his cock made Aragorn come a few minutes later.

There was silence for a bit, both of them too out of breath to talk or move.

"So what do you want to do now?" Aragorn asked as he carefully extricated himself from his lover and sat up, crossing his legs as he did so.

Boromir grinned. "A bath would be nice, don't you think?"

Aragorn looked at his lover and laughed softly.

"Sure thing."

He was about to say more to him. But his mouth stubbornly remained shut as he tried to find something to say. But everything that came into his mind was deemed as not quite right enough. It was all lacking and he couldn't figure out how to get around it.

"Boromir...I....thanks." He ended lamely before smacking himself on the forehead.

"Remind me never to try out for the stage." he half-muttered under his breath.

He was pretty humiliated at how things had turned out at that point and he wished that he could take it all back and say something not so retarded, but of course it was too late.

"So you need some help getting up?" Aragorn asked, standing up and fumbling about as he fought to get his underwear on before his trousers.

"Aragorn?" Boromir tried to get his lover's attention to stop him from either crashing into something or getting himself killed, but Aragorn was too flustered and was ignoring him as he fought with his clothes.

"Just give me a minute here." Aragorn muttered as he successfully pulled on his underwear and was in the process of pulling down his shirt when he tripped on Boromir and landed on the floor with a heavy thump.

"O..o..oww." stars filled his vision as he fought to get some oxygen in his lungs.

"Estel?" When his vision cleared, he was greeted by a pair of impossible huge green eyes looking down at him, blinking in concern.

"I'll be okay. Just got the wind knocked out of me." he apologized as he slowly sat up.

He sat in silence with his face burning at the double humiliation that he had gone through at that point and was wishing utterly and hopelessly that he could hide under the carpet and not come out until November at least.

"Estel?' Aragorn turned a bit, not really wanting to look at Boromir.

"You're welcome."

It was at that moment that Aragorn fully appreciated Celebrian Lothlorien as the powerful woman that Boromir and Faramir knew her as.

Notes: Just a bit of explanations about graduations in Canada (Alberta, to be a tad specific). What happens is that students in Gr 12 take a series of gov't tests called "Departamentals" in the core subjects (No SATS in Canada) and that happens usually in June. These tests determine whether you can get a certain type of diploma (general or honors or IB) that and the number of classes you have taken for credits determine whether a student is eligible to be able to graduate. The Gr. 12 students usually have a "grad banquets" and the like in late May to June, depending on the school. In the Catholic Schools, there's usually a mass and then a dinner a couple of days later. I also did research on the medical stuff, but if I got stuff wrong, like I said before, I'm a teacher, not a doctor Jim!

Okay. That was lengthy. Anyways, I hope you likes and I hope it was worth waiting for and..oh yes, many thanks to the over-worked Waennovien who was kind enough to beta this part for me despite all the crap she's going through. Muchas Gracias por todo, querida. Oh and to Andrea, who also has gotten hooked on the Clash (I apologize for the lateness of a reply..long story.)

Now onwards to the fic!

Part 24-White Flag

"lightning crashes, a new mother cries
this moment she's been waiting for
the angel opens her eyes
pale blue colored iris, presents the circle
and puts the glory out to hide, hide "-Live

Legolas flipped lazily through the badly battered copy of "The Perks of being a Wallflower" that Faramir and Boromir had gotten him for his birthday in May and felt slightly guilty at how the cover was beginning to fall apart.

It wasn't that he had been careless with it. He loved that book and had been overjoyed when he had received it, but all of the repeated readings he had subjected it to had taken its toll on the flimsy paperback

He had read it so much that he didn't really have to concentrate to pay attention to it. Which was a blessing at that point, since his bodily discomfort was pretty much preoccupying his mind almost all of his waking hours.

"Lee?" his thoughts were yanked away from his more morose train of thoughts by the cheerful and sadly missed voice of Celebrian.

"In here." He called out, glad to have her company, since Faramir had literally been dragged away from his side by Max and Eomer to go and play soccer in the summer league that they were involved in and Aragorn and Boromir were using the quiet time to spend it together; an activity that they didn't get to indulge in often due to Boromir's intense physical therapy and both of them having to play academic catch-up so they could graduate with the rest of their class.

So Celly proved a welcome distraction to Lee, since he wouldn't dream of playing the part of the spoiled, helpless invalid and ruin the precious little time that his sibling and friends had together. Also, he had missed Celly terribly, since she was utterly busy working out in Quebec and could only come out for Aragorn and Boromir's and his graduation ( a ceremony he was going to have to miss since his health wasn't as good as the midwife and the doctor had hoped) and for the impending birth of his children.

Celly appeared in the somber living room, holding two bowls of ice cream in each hand as she did so.

"They're so cute aren't they?" Celly remarked as she sat down next to Legolas on the over-stuffed couch in the living room.

"Absolutely and adorably so." Legolas agreed as he and Celly watched Boromir and Aragorn, who were sitting on the far edge of the lawn, completely oblivious to the scrutiny of their elder siblings.

"You getting sick of them yet?" Celly asked as she handed Legolas one of the bowls of ice cream that she had been carrying.

Legolas accepted the bowl, but then put it on the end table. Although he loved mandarin chocolate ice cream, at that moment it was making him extremely nauseous, something that he simply couldn't afford to have happen at that time.

Especially not when he was barely able to keep enough food down to nourish both himself and his children.

"Nah. I'd rather have them all lovey-dovey than brooding and tragic." He replied nonchalantly.

He sat back on the pillows that *were* supposed to ease the burden of the babies on his back and tried to find a comfortable spot. But that was easier said than done, since no matter how much he shifted about, he simply couldn't find a better spot to rest his weary back.

Not to mention the fact that the constant, dull pain he had been in since his children had started to grow had flared up even worse in the last couple of days.

"Are you okay?" Celly's soft voice cut through the dark thoughts in his mind. Although Celebrethil and Dr. Gwydion had assured him that it was still a normal pregnancy despite the trauma he had suffered earlier, he couldn't help but to occasionally worry about both the children that he was carrying as well as his health.

He knew he was ill. There was no way around it. He could see it whenever he looked at his face in the mirror, in Faramir and Boromir's eyes whenever they helped him get around. His arms were too thin, his hair was dull and brittle and his skin was utterly dry.

All of these things made him wonder whether he was actually going to survive the pregnancy. Every day it kept getting harder to put on a brave face. Every day it was a struggle to keep Boromir from feeling that anything was wrong.

Every day it was struggle not to curse the children that were causing him so much pain.

"Yeah." Lee answered, his tone distant as he finally found a spot that eased the aches and pains of his over-burdened frame.

"Are you uncomfortable?" Celly ventured to ask, hoping that she hadn't touched a sore spot, since Legolas had been getting touchy about his helplessness of late.

"I'm always uncomfortable." He replied, flatly, wincing slightly as another ache made itself known.

"Uh..yeah..So how many more months have you got left?" Celly asked, trying to find a way to salvage the conversation before Legolas blew his top.

"It's June now, right?" Legolas asked in an effort to ease his irritation. After all, it wasn't Celly's fault that he was in pain almost all the time. Or that his moods were as screwy as the weather. She was trying to help, he knew that. But it still made it hard to keep his patience with her questions.

Especially since they were a bit too close to home for his liking.

"Yeah. June seventeenth, to be exact." Celly answered cautiously.

"The babies are due September 15^th." Legolas replied in a flat voice.

Celly frowned and got off the couch, knowing all too well she had pissed Legolas off.

"I'll just put the ice cream away, since it would be a waste to leave it to melt."

Hearing the strained tone in her voice, Legolas felt like kicking himself. He really didn't mean to be a prick to Celly, since she wasn't trying to do anything except cheer him up, but it just seemed that was all he was good for recently. No matter how lightly everyone tread around him, he still managed to alienate all his family and friends.

"Celly, wait." Celly paused in her bustling and looked straight at Legolas.

"Look...I'm sorry..I didn't mean to be a prick..." he sighed heavily as he rubbed his temples. Damnit, he was getting another headache!! Great way to top off his day. First he had snapped at Boromir and then he had just been a right prick to someone he practically considered his sister. It was sure turning out to be a black star day all around!

He closed his eyes and was surprised to receive a warm embrace from Celly, which nearly made him burst out into tears right then and there. Fuck all his emotions to hell! He thought as he bit his lip to keep from bawling in her arms right then and there.

"Lee...I understand that it's hard for you mate." Celly soothed the younger elf. "I know I would be a right evil bitch if I had to be laid up for the sheer amount of time that you have been, so trust me when I tell you I'm not pissed at you nor am I going to hold it against you. I'm just worried about you Lee. That's all."

Lee nodded gratefully. "Thanks..it's just that...I'm so fucken *helpless*!" He hissed out.

"I can't even go to the *fucken* bathroom without someone helping me!! I feel like I'm nothing more than a baby myself!!"

He lifted his head then and looked at Celly angrily, his dark brown eyes flashing almost dangerously.

"You know, sometimes I wish that I had lost them." He told her, his voice almost breaking as he spoke.

"I'm not healthy. I just spent three weeks in the hospital because of this." He hissed as he gestured to his large belly.

"I'm getting sicker all the time, Celly. In fact, I don't even know if I'm going to survive the rest of the pregnancy, never mind actually giving birth."

Celly's mouth stretched itself in a thin line as she heard those harsh and angry words spilling out of Legolas' mouth.

"Lee..." She paused, unsure of what to say next. What could she say to him? It was obvious that he was right. He was the sickest that she had ever seen an elf in her life. She had only been away for a couple of months and the change that she had noticed in Legolas could only be described as severe. He had looked a bit sickly back in April, but now that it was June he just looked like he was barely even alive.

"Don't say anything. It's not going to help me much anyways." Legolas told her after several minutes of uncomfortable silence.

Celly bit her lip and looked away, her heart aching badly for the younger elf. She wanted to help him figure out someway to deal with the situation, but her mind came up blank.

There was simply nothing there. And it was killing her that despite all her experience, there was nothing she could come up with to help him.

Legolas put his hand to his forehead and covered his eyes.

"Look. It's...don't take it seriously. I'm frustrated over everything right now."

He lowered his hand and looked away from her.

"I know I chose this and I knew it was going to be hard, so I shouldn't be whining about it. It's just hard to keep that in perspective."

Celly narrowed her eyes at his explanation and released him from her embrace.

"I know you want to be strong and face all of this on your own, but don't push any help that you can get away. No one's going to think you're weak because you need it."

Legolas frowned slightly at her comments.

"You think I'm doing that right now?" Legolas asked her, his voice soft.

"Legolas, no one says such bitter things if they were fine and getting all the help that they need."

Legolas threw her a withering look before he turned his back to her and curled himself into a ball.

Celly only watched him for several minutes as she fought the urge to slap him.

Although it would be severely satisfying, it simply wouldn't accomplish anything.

"Fine." She finally sighed as she moved away from him and picked up the bowls she had left on the table and walked into the kitchen.

"But when and if you want help, we're all here and willing to help, you know."

Legolas only growled at her, making Celly clench her hands around the bowls she carried.

Once she had exited the living room, Celly dumped the bowls into the sink and kicked the fridge door hard enough to dent it.

Gritting her teeth, she ran her hands through her hair hard, wincing painfully when her fingers got caught in several tangles.

"Ouch." She pulled her fingers out of her hair none too gently and slumped against the abused refrigerator.

"I'm surrounded by frikin' morons."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Boromir sat on his bed and frowned up at his sister, who was pacing around Aragorn's room waving her arms around and swearing in French, a torrent of words broken only by an occasional rant about Legolas's state of mind at that particular time.

He sighed as he watched her whirl around the room, all the while wondering what evil trick of fate had made Max break his arm at the game and thus requiring Aragorn to go and pick him up from the hospital along with Eomer and Faramir; since Max was the only one driving that day. And he had locked his keys in the car before the game.

Sighing at the glaring cruelties that fate always saw fit to throw in his path, Boromir let his head fall back against the wall.

"Fuck!" Celly's ramblings stopped at that involuntary exclamation by her brother, who was now glaring at the wall and rubbing a spot on the back of his head vigorously.

"What?" She asked him, her bad mood completely gone.

"I smacked my head against the window." He explained as he vigorously rubbed at his head. "I'm sorry. Please go on."

Celly only glared at Boromir before finally cracking up at the sheer absurdness of it all.

"Never mind. It's too stupid and long to actually bother." She told him once she had finally stopped laughing and sank down next to her brother on the bed.

"You talked with Lee, I presume?" Boromir asked her as she rolled over to face him.

Celly closed her eyes and nodded.

"Yeah, I kind of recognized the signs of trying to talk sense into him and failing."

Celly opened her eyes and looked at her brother after he had said that.

"He's not listening to anyone? Fucken hell, what is it with you guys?!"

Celly covered her eyes with her hand and groaned softly.

"We're a bunch of stressed out, life-scarred drama queens?"

Celly's mouth fell open in shock over the causal reply she had gotten from her brother. She didn't realize she was still gaping until her brother reached out and closed her mouth shut with a delicate flick of the wrist.

"Thanks." was all she could get out as her brain tried to process the words she had just heard.

Boromir nodded.

"Well, it's true. I mean look at all the shit we went through because we're exactly how *retarded*?"

Celly frowned. "Well, I wouldn't *exactly* call you guys retarded."

"Yeah. I would call ourselves completely fucken brain-dead."

"Hey!! What the hell did you hit me for? That hurt!?"

Celly waved her hand back and forth in an effort to ease the sting in her palm.

"'Cause you were being an idiot. Boromir, you guys have gone through shit that I couldn't evenbegin to imagine. I'm actually pleasantly surprised that you guys aren't as fucked up as you could be, so cut yourselves some slack, ok? No one is perfect and that's what everyone does: they make mistakes. So quit beating yourself up. Christ man!!"

She snorted and shook her head before fixing her brother with a sharp glare.

"It's not a big surprise that you're Catholic, you guys sure like the guilt and the martyrdom well enough. " Boromir flipped her the bird.

"So when did Legolas convert?"

Boromir snickered softly and rolled over onto his side.

"Sometime in Grade Six, actually. He'll be happy that you asked."

"I honestly didn't expect that question to be answered, but yeah. Sure."

They fell silent for several minutes, staring at each other, shifting about on the bed, staring at the ceiling before Boromir broke the silence.

"I've tried..." Celly raised her head at the soft words, not really sure if she had heard them spoken at all.

"I honestly have. I learned my lesson with Estel. I have tried to get him to open up, to let us help him."

He sighed deeply.

"He wants to face it alone, but he's so weak. He's in pain and it's taking its toll."

"He knows that he needs your help, so why is he pushing all of us away from him?"

Celly moaned in exasperation, letting her head flop on the soft down of the navy, gold and cream comforter covering the bed.

"I can only give you guesses on that one. Namely that Lee hates being seen as weak by anyone. He'd rather die a painful death than admit that he needs help."

Celly groaned into the fabric before raising her head.

"I know you guys have trust issues, but don't you think that Lee's taking it a bit too far?"

Boromir gave her an odd look before he spoke.

"Why do you think he's at home and not at the hospital?"

"What?!" Celly sat up and stared at her brother with wide, shocked eyes.

"You heard me."

"Why the hell did you *not* keep him in the hospital?"

Boromir's eyes were like frozen green glass when he looked at his sister.

"Namely because he was wasting away there. Even though they had him stabilized, he was getting worse. His soul was breaking, being stuck in such a sterile place without his friends, his loved ones, his home."

He looked down at the bedspread and began to trace the patterns printed on them with his index finger.

"I could feel him, every day he was there, slipping even further and further away."

Celly raised her hand and covered her mouth.

"I totally fucken forgot you guys were bonded!"

"Gee, thanks. But then on the other hand, it's a weirdly good feeling to know that you're not the insufferable know-it-all that I have come to know and love."

Celly's eyes narrowed dangerously at her brother's smart-arsed reply.

"If this weren't serious, I would have already gutted you. I hope you do realize that, right?"

Boromir waved his hand. "Sure. Got it. But yea. I felt him. All the time. I thought I was going blind, the way that his pain was crowding in my head."

Although he didn't seem to notice it, he was rubbing his forehead and the bridge of his nose roughly, as if trying to ease a lingering ache there. Seeing this, Celly wondered exactly how bad the pain must have been for him to have turned that movement into a practised manoeuver that he wasn't even aware of any longer.

"You still feel his pain that strongly?"

"Not as bad as it was before. In the beginning, I would sometimes black out from it. I never said anything, but he must have known something was up, since the pressure started to ease. It was gradual, but I could feel him doing it."

His hands clenched involuntarily in remembered anger at what Legolas had been doing.

"And it hurt. More than anything physical, the fact that he was trying to hide it from me, denying me the exact knowledge of his state..." He shook his head.

"If I had let him stay there, he would have died. He was so wasted by that time, he didn't even know what he was doing. That was the reason why I pushed them to stabilize him quickly and release him in our care."

"And how did you manage that?"

"We just asked him. He's an adult."

Celly brought her fingers to her mouth and began chewing on her fingertips.

"Are you sure it was a good idea though?"

"It was the best solution I could come up with for this problem, Celebrian." He replied softly. "I know he's extremely fragile right now, but believe me when I tell you he's doing much better than he was before."

A dark shadow, born out of deep sorrow, crossed his eyes, making Celly both wince and wonder what kind of excruciating pain had caused the new sorrow she saw in his eyes.

"Seb.." She swallowed hard as she tried to find a tactful way to tell him what Lee had said to her earlier in the afternoon. Despite all the ranting she had done earlier, she hadn't been able to bring herself to tell her brother everything that had happened.

Maybe it had been shock. Or maybe it was simply that she couldn't believe it herself, but it had remained locked behind her teeth, despite the way that her temper had raged.

"I don't want to sound like I have no faith in you or anything..but what if you're all in over your heads with Lee? What if we're hurting him more by keeping him here rather than in the hospital?"

"Celly, we were already in over our heads when he went into the hospital. They didn't help him while he was there! Hell, they made him worse!!"

Boromir nearly snarled, his eyes narrowing as he tried to keep his tears in check.

"I thought about that when he first went in. Hell, *I* was relieved when they made him go. I thought it would help, until I started getting blind headaches that escalated until it got to the point were I *didn't* even feel him at all."

He sniffled and coughed in an effort to keep the lump in his throat securely lodged there lest it release the flood of tears he knew where going to come.

"One day...' He shook his head as his voice broke and tried again.

"It's weird...I haven't really thought about it in months...since he's always there. Like a warm golden sun right behind my eyelids. Even when he was in pain, it was still that glow. But one day, it just wasn't there. It was just..black. And it fucken scared me."

He swallowed hard and wiped at the tears that were welling up in the corners of his eyes roughly.

Fuck he felt like a girl!! He had cried more in the past year than in all of is entire teenage life and he hated it. Even though he felt tired and clean after crying, he still felt like he was losing his armour. Like he was soft and new and raw...and worst of all, exposed.

The worst was feeling like he had completely fucked up the only role that he was good at: protecting the people that he loved.

"C'mere." Celly pulled him into her arms. Despite his struggling, she didn't let go.

She rested her chin on top of his head and sighed, trying to kill the horribly dull ache sitting right behind her breastbone as she held her stubborn brother.

She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the sharp stabbing of a tiny, thousand needles all along her eyelids.

Tried to ignore the wail that trying to force its way through her lips.

Tried to ignore the overwhelming feeling of failure that had swept the anger away.

"Celly...you aren't crying are you?"

The salty wetness was coursing down her face, drying her skin a slight blue as it did so, pooling into her brother's air like uncut sapphires.

"No."

If she didn't acknowledge them, then they didn't exist, right?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tearing.

Stop.

Pain.

A red-hot supernova.

Pain.

Wet...dripping agony...

A bloody cry, as if torn from a jagged edge of ripped flesh, the ends of the severed skin and muscle wailing, yelling, crying as the unbearable precursor to hell becomes known...

Legolas jolted awake and nearly screamed from the pain in his lower abdomen.

"Hurts...hurts...hurts..hurts..." his mind chanted the refrain over and over again as he willed his stilled body to uncurl itself from the fetal position he had fallen asleep in.

His limbs didn't move. His arms stayed tight around his belly, as if protecting it. His legs, the same thing.

"Hurts..hurts..god...move..hurts...help..."

He was already crying from the pain, the tears were making cold wet-spots on the pillow and it was pissing him off. His middle felt like it was slowly being ripped apart ever so delicately by small hands with sharp needle hooks instead of fingertips.

"Hurts..hurts..."

He had to get moving. Figure out what was wrong. Fix it.

He lay there for a few moments after having come to that decision and waited to strike. He took note of the silence in the house. Of the stillness of the summer air.

The stillness was shattered by another sharp stab of pain, which made him writhe on the sofa.

After it had abated, he had lain with his eyes half-closed, ready to be pulled under without any resistance.

The scent, though, pulled him out of his stupor.

Legolas raised his head slowly and sniffed the air.

The scent in the air was thick, moist and metallic.

He shook his head. It couldn't be.

He sniffed again.

It was that unmistakable scent; he knew as he forced his arms to move away from his swollen body.

He was almost afraid to look down, but he made his numbed arms move and pull away the blanket and the large shirt he was wearing.

Legolas whimpered softly as he saw the bright red stain on the light blue sofa growing bigger by the second.

"Oh god..." He whispered as his hand dropped uselessly on the sofa.

He was going to die.

"You're not going to die."

Boromir growled in his ear as the lights were flipped on and the living room suddenly came alive with people and elves.

"..going on?"

"...doesn't matter!!! Call a freaking ambulance and the fucken doctor!!"

"..too soon for them..."

Voices and images all blurred as they floated past his half-closed eyes.

He could feel hands moving over his body, touching, prodding; occasionally being rewarded by a jolt or a strangled shriek as he tried to protect the sensitive parts of his body.

He wanted to flee them, but a pair of cool hands clamped down around his head and held him still.

His eyes opened enough to see a concerned pair of green eyes staring down at him with a ferocious intensity in their emerald depths.

"...hang on Lee..hang on...I'm not going to let you go, you hear me? I'm not gonna let you go!"

Legolas felt his cracked lips stretch into a smile. Although the skin was tearing and blood was leaking through the cracks, he didn't care.

He would smile for Boromir. Only for him, cause he knew he never would break his word.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Is anyone in the fucken waiting room?!"

Yohji's voice nearly cracked as he looked at all of the people that were standing outside sucking back nicotine like it was going out of style.

"My parents and the priests. Boromir and Faramir are in the Hospital right now.." Celly explained as she wiped her runny nose with the back of her hand, being ever so careful not to burn herself with the cherry of her smoke.

She sniffed and took a drag of her smoke and looked at the rest of the people beside her.

Max and Danny were sitting together, a smoke making the rounds between them. Their eyes were swollen and slightly red. Neither of them were talking to anyone but each other, and from what she could gather, it was basically monosyllabic.

Yohji's hands were shaking and his eyes were fixed on the ground, while Duo rested his hand on his shoulder and only occasionally patting him or giving him a gentle squeeze.

He looked pretty calm, but his eyes looked like violet shards of broken crystal.

Aragorn kept on crying. He would be calm for a bit, be able to have a short conversation, a smoke, then he'd start off into a sobbing jag for several minutes.

Celly watched him cry and wondered whether his eyes would be permanently glassy and bloodshot if he didn't stop. Or worse yet, that he would start crying blood.

Eomer was on one side of him and a rounded Eowyn on the other and by the looks of it, they seemed to be holding him up.

Seeing him like that brought more tears to her eyes. Cursing softly, she angrily wiped them from her eyes.

"Fucken tears." She muttered as she took another drag of her smoke and looked out at the cool summer sky, hoping that the deep blue colour of it would do something to soothe her frayed nerves.

She ran a hand through her hair and exhaled the smoke, not wincing as it scratched at her nostrils on its way out.

"Why did it happen?" She thought as she watched the malevolent red glow at the tip of her cigarette.

~*~*~*~*~*~

She had been drifting off to sleep in one of the bedrooms, having tired herself out beyond her physical and emotional capabilities when it all went down. She had cried on her brother's shoulder for what seemed like ages, or at least until her tears stopped turning blue before she went to bed, not really telling him what was wrong.

He didn't push her. He just let her cry, since he knew that even though she was a major touchstone for all of them, she wasn't made out of rock.

Nor was she always successful when it came to solving everyone's problems.

He had let her break and gather up her strength again before they both went and rested up since both of them knew that if they were to help Lee, they would have to be strong enough to find a solution.

Morpheus had just gathered her up in his dark embrace when Boromir's strangled yell shattered her sleep.

Jumping out of bed, she ran to Aragorn's and Boromir's bedroom, but only found a rumpled Aragorn pulling on some trousers.

"What happened?" She asked as she waited for him to get dressed.

"I dunno. He just shrieked and ran out of the room like a bat out of hell."

He replied as he fastened his jeans. He opened his mouth to ask something, then snapped it shut when all the lights went on in the living room.

Celly nodded towards it and they both ran to the room.

"Fuck!!! What happened?" Aragorn yelled while Celly only swore and ran into the kitchen for the phone.

Faramir had beat her to it though and was frantically trying to get an ambulance to the house. Boromir was barking information to his brother while he held a moaning Legolas in his arms.

Although he had pulled the blanket up before anyone had come in, he hadn't completely covered some of the blood-stains on the couch and on Legolas' shirt.

"What happened?" Aragorn repeated as he ran right to Boromir's side.

"He's gonna have the kids."

"WHAT?"

Celly and Aragorn chorused together.

"Yeah. He's fucken bleeding and he's in a hell of a lot of pain! I hope those fuckers get here like now!!"

Legolas' eyes fluttered in response to Boromir's voice, but didn't open.

"They said they're gonna be here in ten minutes or so. They already new that he wasn't doing well." Faramir told his brother as he threw the phone on the couch and rushed over to his side.

"I fucken hope so!!" Boromir growled, his eyes nearly squeezed shut as she spoke.

"He's practically gone mad with it!"

"And you?" Aragorn asked, his eyes full of fear and worry as he looked first at his brother, then at his lover.

"Me? I'll survive. It's him that I'm worried about." He squeezed his eyes shut as Legolas gave a strangled half-shriek before writhing on the couch.

Aragorn saw this and squeezed his lover's shoulder until Boromir was able to open his eyes again.

"Thanks, Eskelde." He whispered, wiping his tired eyes with the back of his hand. Although his head and his eyes felt like they both had been bathed in acid, he was going to be damned if he admitted that. Legolas was the one that needed everyone's thoughts and attention; since he was, Boromir could sense, close to the threshold of death.

That knowledge made Boromir's heart congeal into a heavy stone behind his breast-bone that hurt every time he took a breath. It also made him determined to fight twice as hard for Legolas' life.

He looked down at the elf again and had a hard time keeping the wince off his face when he saw the pool of blood had grown and that Legolas' face, always pale, was now the colour of blueish parchment. His head tossed back and forth and soft moans were coming from his dry and cracked lips.

Seeing him like that made the stone that his heart had become crack with pain that was almost too hard for him to bear.

But he made himself bear it. Just like he made himself take Legolas' head between his hands to still him.

He had just touched the parched, whisper thin skin when the doorbell rang.

"I got it" Celly announced before she disappeared and returned with the paramedics and Celebrethil.

"We need some room here, okay?" One of the paramedics told them as he put down his kit on the floor. He rummaged around in his pocket and took out a pair of rubber gloves. Dutifully, they all stepped back and watched as he and Celebrethil started examining Legolas.

Faramir gasped and had to be restrained by Celly, who had to sink her nails into his shoulder to keep him still; while Aragorn only grabbed Boromir's hand and clung to it, his eyes going a deep and stormy blue as he watched them work on his brother.

"When did the bleeding start?" Celebrithil asked as she examined Legolas, who was too out of it to realize what was going on.

"I don't know. He woke us up like twenty minutes ago..and by then the bleeding was pretty bad." Boromir replied, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke; the only outward emotion that he let himself show to the outsiders.

"Shit." Celebrithil muttered before she looked up at them.

"He's dilated about 5 centimeters already. We have to hurry if we want to save him and his children."

Boromir's mouth tightened at this while Faramir let out a soft gasp.

"Do what you have to. But I want him alive, if that's the least you can manage."

Boromir hissed at her, his eyes going a hard emerald as he watched Legolas writhe and moan under the ministrations of the other paramedics as they tried to staunch his bleeding.

Celebrethil bit her lip at the harsh request and was just going to give him her reply when Legolas let out a sharp cry that had Boromir rushing to his side in seconds.

The elf, although still weak, was now thrashing about, trying to get away from the paramedics and their touches.

"We need him to be still or else he's going to bleed more." one of the paramedics told Boromir, who only growled in frustration before grabbing Legolas' head and effectively managing to hold him still.

"You're NOT going to die on me, Lee? You hear? You're not! So hang on Lee..hang on...I'm not going to let you go, you hear me? I'm not gonna let you go!"

~*~*~*~*~

Faramir stood next to Boromir, his face a study in grief as he looked through the window, watching the doctors working frantically to save his partner.

He would have loved to have been inside the room, at least holding Lee's hand; but the doctors had refused.

"He needs to be in a sterile environment and quite frankly, you would be more of a hindrance than a help. I know you want to be near him, but for now, please, stay outside."

Although he knew the doctor spoke the truth, it still hurt to be separated from his lover.

He bit his lip at the wrenching pain he felt every time he caught a glimpse of Legolas' snow-white face, so still and lifeless under the clear oxygen mask strapped to it.

He turned away for a moment and put his hand to his mouth to stifle the sob he felt rising up in his throat.

"He's not going to die on us, Faramir." he heard Boromir say before he was drawn into the warm, protective circle of his arms just like he had been drawn into them when they had been younger and with no one else to rely on but themselves.

But Faramir wasn't having any of it this time.

"How do you know?" He practically snarled at his brother, his green eyes flashing angrily.

"How the hell are you so certain he's going to live through this? The doctors said he's too weak to make it!! How are you so certain he's going to make it through?"

Boromir folded his arms across his chest and stared at his brother's bloodshot eyes and tear-streaked face long and hard.

There had only been few times when he had kept stuff from his younger brother. Not out of malice, but because of knowing that Faramir would react strongly and badly to being told the truth. One of those times had been what exactly had happened between him and Casey. The other had been the bond that tied him to Legolas.

It wasn't that he didn't trust his brother. Far from it.

After being alone with no one to rely on but themselves, he would trust his brother with his life if the need arose for it.

But he wasn't blind to the fact that despite the deep bonds of love that they held for each other, Faramir would knock his block off if he even suspected that he and Legolas were bonded in more ways than a deep friendship.

It was true that his little brother was more rational, level-headed and thoughtful than he ever would be, but when it came to Legolas, that rational side to his personality was thrown out the window.

Legolas was the love of his life and when it came to him, his emotions had the last say in every decision that he made.

Knowing this, but also wanting to reassure is brother that Legolas would make it through, he decided to tell him about the bond.

He licked his dry lips and decided that it would be better for him to just get to it.

"I know that he won't die because I can feel him."

Boromir explained to his brother, who only rolled his eyes.

"Are you for real, Sebastien?" Faramir asked him, his voice tight and shaking as he fought to keep his temper under control and not yell at his brother.

Boromir's lips tightened and his hands clenched at his side, but he refused to give in to the anger that had begun to boil under his skin. If he did, he and Faramir would just end up yelling at each other and not solving anything at all.

"Why the fuck would I make something up like that?" He snarled, making Faramir take a step back.

"Do you think I'd fuck around at a time like this?"

Faramir didn't reply and simply turned his head to the window of the operating room where the doctors worked on Lee.

"I don't know what to think." Faramir finally replied, turning his gaze onto his brother.

Boromir ran his hand impatiently through his hair.

"It's fucken hard right now. I know. But trust me, Vincent. He's going to be alright. He's not going to die that easily."

Boromir told his brother in a soft voice before reaching out and putting his hand on his brother's bony shoulder.

But Faramir batted his hand away once again before his face turned into a dark mask.

"It's bullshit!! Bullshit!" Faramir screamed, right at the same time an alarm went wild and another batch of doctors and nurses rushed into the OR.

Boromir only blinked as he watched them all rush into the place, but he had at least the presence of mind to grab on the doctors' arm and ask questions, since Faramir was too busy pressing himself against the window and freaking out.

"What the fuck just happened in there?" Boromir asked.

"The kid went into Cardiac Arrest!" The doctor panted out, yanking his arm away from a stunned Boromir before rushing in so quickly that the door was still swinging forwards and backwards several minutes after.

"Fucken hell." he whispered, tugging at his hair as the words played themselves over and over in his mind.

"Cardiac arrest meant that your heart stopped, right?" Boromir asked himself, closing his eyes as if the darkness would help him find the answer he knew he didn't want to really find.

"But they're gonna start it again, right? They can do that, right?" His mind was practically edging on meltdown with questions when he opened his eyes once again just in time to see Faramir tear himself away from the window and make a beeline to the OR doors.

"Faramir! No!" Faramir cringed slightly at being caught, but it didn't deter him. Taking his cue, he rushed through the doors and into the room.

"Fucken hell!" Boromir yelled as he ran after his brother, all the while hoping that his limp wouldn't do much to slow him down.

Although Faramir had the advantage, Boromir had longer legs. And despite having been out of commission from the Soccer field close to a year, his body still remembered what it had to do to achieve its goal.

Without actually thinking about it, his foot swept out of its own accord and connected solidly with his brother's right knee.

He was sure he had felt his foot connect with the bone, but he wasn't sure of how successful that manoeuver was until his brother's right knee buckled and he fell to his left knee..

"Score." Boromir muttered cheerfully before casually walking over to his brother and vowing that despite the circumstances, he was going to set his brother straight whether he liked it or not.

Faramir turned his head and glared at him as he grabbed him none-too-gently by the collar and hauled him to his feet.

The doctors, for the most part were ignoring them, but one or two nurses looked up from their work with tight, disapproving looks on their faces.

"We were just leaving, thanks." Boromir assured them in a falsely cheerful voice as he dragged his brother out.

Faramir, for his part, wasn't going to go without a struggle and was hell-bent on putting up a fight. That was until Boromir clenched his thumb and forefingers into his shoulder so hard that it nearly brought him to his knees before leaning over and whispering the threat he never thought he would have to use on him, of all people.

"If you don't walk out of this room without a fuss, I swear I'm going to break your shoulder, Understand?"

Faramir turned and glared sulkily at his brother, daring him to do it. Boromir returned the glare tenfold and clenched down even harder on Faramir's shoulder.

"Okayyy!!!" Faramir hissed back, proud that his voice didn't shake despite the pain in his shoulder.

Boromir only nodded as he dragged Faramir out into the hallway and released him none too gently before walking to the opposite wall and giving it a few punches.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" He asked his brother, his voice low and menacing, making Faramir realize that he had stepped *waaay* over the line this time.

"Fuck..I wasn't, okay!" Faramir retorted back.

"I just freaked okay? What else was I supposed to do after you tell me some kind of fucken bullshit and then Lee's heart going all fucked up? Make some fucken tea?"

Boromir snarled at his brother.

"No. But I expected you to actually act like the adult that you're supposed to be!"

Faramir snorted.

"Where in the hell do you get off in telling me how to act when you're fucken stalling me here by telling me *Fairy Tales*?!"

Boromir rolled his eyes and flexed his hands while trying not to give into the urge to smack his brother one.

"Look man. I was just telling you that because I thought you'd be happy to know that *your* boyfriend was going to be okay, even if it didn't look like it, okay? I don't know how the hell it happened, but it's true."

Faramir shook his head. "Bullshit."

"Look man, we *already* had this conversation. You don't believe me, fine. Go ask Celly about it. Go ask the twins. Go ask Galadriel and Celeborn. Go look it up. I don't know why the fuck I got connected with Legolas, but I did, okay? And I'm telling you for the last time to quit acting like a fucken idiot and trust me when I tell you he's going to be alright. Okay?"

Faramir only stared at his brother, unsure of how to react to this information.

He had heard something about those..bonds. Or whatever they were called, happening among the elves. He had come across them somewhere, he was sure. Maybe in some old history book or something, but he hadn't paid them much attention since, to him, they simply seemed like the "soul-mate" principle that humans believed in. A very pretty, idealistic fairy-tale, but nothing more than that - a fairy-tale.

Although part of him wanted to believe his brother's words, the other half of him wasn't so ready to accept them. For the most part, he was concerned with why of all *people* did it have to be *Boromir* and not him that had been chosen to bond with Legolas?

Even though his brother was his family, the other person he put complete trust in, it was a bitter pill for him to swallow.

His mouth stretched in a bitter smile as he turned to look at his brother, who was watching him with a wariness that carried a hint of anger right behind it.

"I don't understand it." he finally spoke, his voice hushed, yet coldly angry as he spoke.

Boromir inclined his head as he waited for his brother to speak, some of his anger ebbing slightly at the emotion in his brother's voice.

"Why was it you that it happened to? Why wasn't I chosen?" Boromir's eyes widened at the question and his anger completely faded away in a flood of pity and understanding for his brother.

"Why? Why? I am the one that loves him! He's *everything* to me!" Faramir cried, his voice nearly breaking as he did so.

"It's not fair! Why does he love you more than he loves me? Why am not good enough for him? What did I do wrong to make it that way?"

Faramir's voice finally broke into a hoarse sob that he tried to choke down, but was only half successful in doing so.

Boromir only watched him, not sure whether to offer comfort once again or to simply walk away from him until he had gathered himself enough to resume a normal conversation.

So he stood there, watching him in silence until his heart couldn't take it anymore, even though he was afraid that he would be pushed away.

Faramir ignored him as he brushed the sleeve of his sweatshirt over his face roughly, willing the fabric to soak up the tears that were traitorously running down his face. But the tears kept on coming, like a river breaking through a damn, coming and coming until he finally gave up and buried his face into the now soggy sleeves.

He kept on crying, his thin shoulders shaking while his soundless sobs tore through his thin frame for what felt like the longest time of his life until he felt a pair of warm, twice scorned arms offering him both security and comfort.

"C'mere you." Boromir said softly, pulling his brother towards his chest tightly.

Faramir struggled a bit until Boromir made it clear he wasn't going to let go anytime soon, so Faramir simply relaxed in his brother's arms and let himself be soothed by his brother's hands gently rubbing small circles on his back.

Once he was sure that Faramir was calm, Boromir took the plunge to address the issues that obviously had obviously been eating at his brother's mind for a long time.

"You know I love you a lot, right?" Faramir nodded, not raising his head lest he saw anger in his brother's eyes when he looked up at his face.

"I don't really know what to tell you apart from that, kid. I know that you're upset about Lee, so you're saying shit cause you have to make yourself angry rather than scared over all of this. And believe me, I'd give everything not to have you be like this."

He paused and stroked his brother's hair a little more while gathering his thoughts.

"Or to know the exact time that one of my best friends will die."

He fell silent as he felt that softly pulsing thread just in the back of his head, right behind his burning eyes.

Feeling it still there, he breathed a soft sigh of relief.

"I just don't know man..." Faramir started, finally getting enough courage to look up at his brother's face.

"It's..it's..well. Fuck man. It's kinda fucked up...I mean." He shook his head and sighed, backing away from his brother as he fought to wrestle his unruly thoughts down.

"Like I know for sure that Lee loves me. There's no fucken doubt about it. But sometimes, when I see you guys..it makes me wonder whether I'm just fucking with my own head or something, ya know?"

Boromir closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to ease the headache that was threatening to make him pass out.

"For a smart guy, and I'm not only saying this cause you're my brother, you sure can be a fucken idiot, you know that?"

At this point, he couldn't resist and punched Faramir in the arm.

"What the hell was that for?" Faramir cried, rubbing his wounded arm. Dammit that *had* hurt!!

"Three guesses you moron." Boromir replied flatly.

Faramir looked at him blankly as he rubbed his arm and Boromir literally ground the hell of his palm into his eyes. It seemed his headache was going to get even worse.

"For the love of hell man! Are you that fucken blind that you don't see what you have with Legolas?"

Faramir's mouth opened and closed at the simple statement. He blinked at his brother and his mouth worked, but there was nothing he could think of to say.

"Okay. I'm going to make this as clear as I know how, so pay attention. It's true that Legolas and I do love each other. I'm not going to fucken deny that. But it's nowhere near the way that you and him love each other. Rest assured that he loves you. If anything happens, it's cause you walk away, you die or he dies, got it?"

Boromir asked his brother, who looked as if he wanted to believe him, but was still fighting with himself as to whether it was a good call or not.

Boromir noticed how his brother's thoughts were going and he sighed deeply, desperately fighting the urge to walk away from the little bastard and have him figure it out for himself.

He dugs the heels of his hands into his eyes and prayed silently that this time, he would drive the point home so that he could lie down and get rid of that fucken headache

"Faramir, I'm trying to make you feel better. But you have to meet me half-way at least. Don't let your stubbornness make you deaf to what I'm saying here man. At the least, think about your kids man."

Faramir's head snapped up and he could feel his face go white as the blood drained from it.

"Forgot about them, didn't you?" Boromir asked his brother, his tone light, but still edged with a dark undertone.

"I am an idiot. " Faramir muttered, pulling away from his brother and covering his face in mortification.

"Glad to know that you were listening." Boromir replied tartly.

Faramir was silent for a couple of moments before he spoke again.

"He could have gotten rid of them."

Boromir nodded, crossing his arms as he did so, all the while watching his brother through narrowed, calculating eyes.

Faramir nodded and pulled his hands away from his face and looked at Boromir.

"It took you long enough, you insecure little shit."

"Gee thanks man." Faramir retorted sarcastically.

"Considering that I had to compete with *you* to get Lee, of course I'd be fucken insecure!"

Boromir laughed.

"Well, considering that if Lee heard you he'd kick both of our asses for talking about him as if he were baggage, you beat me hands down. Yeah, me and Lee love each other, but you and him are together. He *chose* to stay with you in the end. He's giving everything to you, not me and those kids are the tangible proof of that."

Faramir scratched at his head and smiled faintly.

"I..fuck...I don't give myself enough credit do I?"

"Eh, it's a family trait kid. Get used to it."

Faramir laughed softly and wiped at his suspiciously moist eyes as he looked at his brother again. He really was grateful that he had Boromir on his side.

They stood in silence, looking at each other for several moments when a doctor came out of Lee's room.

"Are you with Mr. Mirkwood?"

Boromir and Faramir rolled their eyes at each other before turning to the doctor.

"Yes. I'm the father and he's the uncle. Any news?"

Faramir asked, knowing full well that Boromir would probably snap something sarcastic to the doctor. After all, the man could only take so much in one day, and Faramir was sure that he had very well gone past his limit already.

"Yes. Mr. Mirkwood is out of danger. Although he's still under sedation, there seem to be no more complications." he turned to Faramir and smiled widely at him.

"And may I extend my congratulations to you. You are the father of two handsome, healthy, young boys."

Faramir managed to send a wobbly grin to both his brother and the doctor before his eyes rolled back into his head and he landed with a dull thud on the antiseptic linoleum and going into convulsions.

The doctor looked at Boromir, who shook his head.

"Fucken great time to pick for having a seizure!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Celly shuddered slightly and took yet another deep drag of her almost finished smoke and looked at the doors and nearly fell on her ass when she saw Boromir standing there, just starting up a cigarette.

She blinked to clear her watery eyes before throwing her cigarette to the ground and rushing toward him. .

"Anything?" Boromir took a drag of his cigarette, inhaling a deep drag and exhaling it before he replied.

"They got his heart beating again." he replied, looking down at the ground as he spoke.

Celly let out a soft gasp at the flat words.

"You're telling me it stopped?" Boromir nodded grimly, the memory of that moment all too fresh in his mind still.

"And the babies?"

Boromir rubbed his face roughly, took another drag and smiled at her tiredly.

"They've been born. Faramir is with them right now."

Celly nearly collapsed when she heard those words, but she kept her cool and instead ran to the secluded area were everyone was trying to chill as they anxiously waited for any news.

"He's okay! He's okay!"

Boromir could only blink as Aragorn, the twins, Duo, Yohji and the rest of their friends rushed forward and crowded around him, all of them eager for any news of Legolas and the babies.

"So what did he have?" Duo asked as he lit his seventh cigarette of the night.

"Two boys." Boromir answered, rubbing his eyes to ease the grittiness in them.

"And how are they?" Celebrian asked while the others watched on anxiously.

Boromir smiled a tired, yet amused smile.

"I think they're gonna be okay."

Although Boromir's words were fairly general, Celly got the feeling that she was the only one being spoken to.

"Can we see them?" Aragorn broke in, his voice harsh and cracking from the stress.

"Soon. They're just cleaning up the babies and doing some last minute things with Lee." He paused as he then made a face.

"And I think Faramir hasn't woken up yet."

"What?!" Danny asked, not sure that he had heard correctly. Exactly how did Faramir get off *sleeping* when his lover was having his children?

"The idiot worked himself up till the very last minute and had a seizure. He's resting now, so he should be fine in a couple of minutes."

"Oh. So is Lee gonna be okay then?" Yohji asked, his green eyes still moist from the crying he had done earlier.

"Yeah. He's going to be okay. He's probably going to have to stay in the hospital for a bit, but he's going to be okay."

"So...are we going to see them or not?"

"At least let me finish this fucken smoke, ok?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Faramir's eyes fluttered open and he found himself staring up at a flourescent light fixture and a naked, stark ceiling dimly lit by the sun's rays creeping up over the horizon.

Confused, he sat up and looked around only to find himself lying on a cheap vinyl couch and a rough blanket covering him.

"Where in the fuck..." he muttered as he sat up, letting the thought trail-off unfinished as he looked around the room and saw pastel coloured curtains half-drawn around a bed.

"Oh fuck!" He exclaimed as the memories of the past night came rushing up.

"Fucken hell." he said as he got up from the couch and stiffly made his way to the bed, hoping and praying that he hadn't fallen asleep in someone else's room.

Pulling the curtain aside, he was relieved to see that it was no one other than Lee lying in the bed.

Breathing a small sigh of relief, he sank down on the plastic chair beside the bed and gently clasped Legolas' seemingly small and pale hand, all the while careful not to jostle the I. V. lines going into the back of it.

He winced slightly when he noticed how translucent the skin was on the back of the elf's hands and the sight made his heart clench in pain as he recalled how his brother told him how much Legolas was sacrificing for him.

The proof not only rested in his hands, but in how Lee looked right then and there.

The elf's skin had literally gone beyond being pale and was barely a few shades above the pillow on which his head rested on. The hair that lay pooled around his emaciated face was limp, faded and looked so much like brittle straw. His cheekbones looked sharp enough to puncture the skin stretched tight across them and there were shadows so dark under his eyes that they looked black.

The tubes all over the place didn't help matters any, since to Faramir, Legolas pretty much looked like a corpse ready for its wake.

Although he had been aware of Lee's poor health, it wasn't until that moment that it really brought everything home to him.

"I'm a blind idiot sometimes." he thought as he gently caressed the hand lest he bruise it even more.

Although he was eager for Lee to wake up and talk to him, he wasn't going to make any more mistakes regarding his fragile love.

So even though it killed him, he vowed to sit and watch over Lee as long as it took for him to wake up.

He realized his vow sort of fell by the way-side when the next thing he became aware of was a hand gently caressing his head, coupled with the not so comfortable cold and clammy feeling of having a wet bed-sheet stuck to his cheek.

Jerking his head up, he felt his face first go white, then red as he realized that he had fallen asleep on the bed. And had evidently drooled while he was at it.

"Have a good sleep?" Lee asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Faramir blinked and wiped his mouth and the rest of his face with his sleeve before picking up his hat, which he had knocked off earlier and firmly jammed it on his head before speaking.

"Uh..guess so." He finally replied, still utterly humiliated at being seen in such a state.

"What about you? How are you feeling?" Faramir asked as he straightened himself out and took Lee's hand, which he had let go of when he had been asleep.

"Like I got the shit kicked out of me. What the hell happened?" He asked, his voice thick and weary as he spoke.

Faramir's mouth opened and closed at the question.

"You don't remember?"

Lee shook his head, wincing at the slight movement before lying back on his pillows.

"You went into labour sometime during the night."

Lee's eyes widened and his hand quickly went over to his now flat belly, an expression of horror on his face as he did so.

Had his babies died? Had Fate finally stepped in and made his wishes, no matter how misguided they had been, come true?

His hand tightened around Faramir's as those bitter thoughts ran through his head and he found himself praying that his wishes hadn't been granted this time.

"They're okay. Really." Faramir assured him, gently stroking the elf's hand with his thumb as he did so.

The knot in his stomach loosened and he willed his sore body to relax and sink back into the cheap hospital mattress

"It was Boromir that raised the alarm, but still. They're okay. So don't worry."

"Where are they?" Lee asked anxiously.

"In the nursery. Celeborn and Galadriel are with them right now." He smiled at Lee then. A relieved and proud smile that made the pain wracking Lee's body fade into the background like a dull hum in the back of his mind.

"We have two healthy little boys, as beautiful as their mother." Faramir whispered his voice slightly cracking on the word "mother".

Legolas smiled tearfully at his lover, enjoying the warmth that being called "mother" brought to his soul.

"I'm sure that they will also be as handsome as their father too." Legolas told Faramir, who only nodded before climbing up on the bed and embracing Legolas tightly.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you....." His voice trailed off into a broken string of sobs that sounded like the cries of both a mortally wounded and relieved man.

Lee's eyes widened at the onslaught, but he didn't move to push Faramir away, knowing that the younger man needed to do this. Needed to hold him, to re-assure himself that Lee wasn't going anywhere. Wasn't going to die just yet.

Lee exhaled softly before he willed his arms to ignore the soreness and wrap themselves around Faramir.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled the warm scents of his lover: A slight tinge of cigarette smoke, mandarins, cinnamon and apples; before letting the tears of fear and anger slide down his face as he too, held on.

~*~*~*~*~*

"Careful! They're only half-elvish you know!"

"Hey! I do know how to hold babies, Faramir!" Celly protested loudly as she arranged the sleepy bundle in her arms more carefully.

"Still! I don't want my kid getting some kind of injury or something cause you wanna hold him like a bloody football!"

"This is really rich, coming from the snot-nosed little brat that *I* used to bathe!"

"Celebrian!"

Faramir squawked, making Lee and Boromir tactfully look away lest Faramir see them laughing at his predicament.

"I could say the same thing about you, Celebrian!" Celeborn rejoined calmly as he held the second bundle, who was watching the adults with wide, greenish-violet eyes despite only being a few hours old and premature as well.

"Daaad!" at this outburst, it was Eomer's and Max's turn to subtly turn away lest they faced the wrath of Celebrian at its worst.

"Well then both of you cut it out before we really start dragging all the embarrassing stories out, alright?"

Galadriel cooly broke in, her voice soft, yet holding a distinct hint of dark humour underneath that made everyone in the room quickly step over the line of good behaviour.

"So when are you guys free?" Glorfindel asked as he peered at the baby that Celly was cuddling, a soft expression on his face that made Danny slightly nervous, since it had *waaay* too much "maternal longing" in it.

"Just in a week or so. Lee needs to get his strength back and the babies need to gain at least another pound before the doctors are satisfied with their health."

Eomer snorted. "Why? They look disgustingly healthy even though they're early."

"Yeah, but they just want to be on the safe side, nothing more." Lee explained.

"So any ideas on names?" Aragorn asked as he carefully received one of the babies from Celebrian.

"We were playing around with a few names, but we didn't *really* decide on any since we thought we had more time." Faramir explained sheepishly, his face still pink from the earlier spar with Celly.

"So we're just gonna call them "One" and "Two"?" Danny asked, making everyone in the room glare daggers at him.

"What?"

SMACK! THWAP! SMACK!!

"OWWW!! What the fuck was that for?!"

SMACK!

"Language!"

*THUD*

"Mom! You didn't have to hit him that hard!!"

Galadriel coolly shrugged off the protests of her children as she rubbed her hand.

"He'll get over it fast enough, it's not as if his head isn't hard enough."

The others kind of nodded, since they couldn't deny that it was true. At least in Danny's case, at any rate.

"Well, someone should move him to the couch at least." Sighing, Celeborn obeyed the order and heaved Danny's sprawled out form onto the small space left over on the couch. Once he was safely ensconced there, they all went back to the task of picking out names for the kids.

"Earel!

"GOD NO!"

"Finbar?"

"What the hell is that?"

"You could just pick names out of the bible, you know."

Legolas made a face at that.

"Like that's gonna go over really well. Two half-elvish kids named...Luke and Matthew, Yeah, that would work." Faramir pointed out caustically.

"True...well, why don't you..I don't know, pick a character or something like that. That's what my mom did." Duo piped in.

"Hmm...that does explain why your name is "Duo".

"Fuck you, Elrohir...say..why the hell do you call yourself "Max"?"

"I got sick of my name being mangled at school and I wouldn't reply if it was screwed up and I told a sub once that it was the elvish form of "Maximilian" and she believed me and for the rest of the term I was Max and it stuck." He shrugged.

"See? Nothing earth-shattering there."

The other simply shook their heads at the story before getting back at the task at hand.

They were all quiet, looking for the perfect names when

"Ponyboy." Legolas interrupted suddenly. "I want to call one of them that."

Aragorn looked down at the baby he was carrying and tried out the name on him.

"Ponyboy...Ponyboy...Uhm...do you have a middle name for this one at least?"

He asked, feeling as if it could fit, but there was a piece missing.

"Boromir." Faramir proclaimed forcefully, making Boromir look at Lee and at his brother with an expression of shock on his face.

"Faramir..." He was about to protest, but Lee put his hand up to silence him.

"I think it's great, so don't complain, Boromir. We're not gonna change it."

"Ponyboy Boromir." Aragorn said, looking down at the baby who looked at him solemnly before sneezing his approval of the name.

"Okay. That's one down. What about him though?" Duo asked as he hovered over Celly and the second baby, who looked as if he was going to cry at any minute.

"He looks really depressed, if you ask me." Celly commented as she began rocking him to keep the flood of tears at bay.

"You know..the more I look at him, the more he looks like..not Tristan...something else..." She trailed off as she tried to recall the word that was literally on the tip of her tongue.

"Triste?" Boromir asked, but Celly shook her head.

"It's another language I'm thinking of..hang on...Oh I know!! Tristus!"

"I don't know..that's kind of..excuse the pun. A sad name to give to a little kid." Glorfindel commented as he peered at the baby again.

"Yeah...that is true...uhmm..since we're on this Latin kick..how bout Faustus?"

"Shit. Why not call him Adolf and give him even more issues?"

Celly gave Danny, who had just woken up a withering look that would have made him probably pass out again if he hadn't been made from sterner stuff than a simple human was.

"I don't know man. I like the sound of Tristus, but..it does sound like a heavy burden of a name for a kid to carry."

"I heard this weird one...Einar some guy in college had it"

"Too girly man."

"Viggo?"

"Like that weird Bohemian-wanna be actor?"

"Well, I like the name..it's strong. It sounds good." Faramir said as he tested the name out. Celly wrinkled her nose and looked down at her nephew and was pleasantly surprised to see a small smile on his face.

"I think he likes it. Viggo it is...but what about the middle name?"

"Strider." Legolas replied, making Aragorn turn slightly pink at the honour his brother was giving him, once again reminding him that their bond, no matter how strained, was still strong between them.

"Viggo Strider. For some crazy reason, they seem to work together." Celly said as she looked down at the newly christened Viggo, who only gave her a howl for his answer.

"And I think little Vig will approve..after he's been fed."

Celly added as she rushed Viggo over to Lee, who gladly accepted him with open arms.

"Ponyboy and Viggo...weird, but it works." Danny said, nodding as he thought about it.

"Well, it's better than calling them Elijah and Dominic!"

"No doubt."

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