Disclaimer: Not mine, don�t own, this is nonprofit fun, totally fiction.
The Story:
He felt wonderful. Crisp, clean sheets wrapped around bare skin. His fingers sought and found the edge of the sheet. He sighed. He loved sleeping in clean sheets. After five years of bumming it down dark alleys, laying on cold cement, the only other thing Davey loved was a hot bath with the fresh scent of soap.
He stopped burrowing further into the bed. No, that wasn�t right. There was something else he loved even more. He waited, nearly opening his eyes, but the bed sank in behind him from the weight of another body. Davey sighed in happiness, knowing it could no one but his Adam; gorgeous, sexy, manly Adam.
But Adam didn�t touch him. He didn�t put a hand on Davey�s half-concealed hip, he didn�t run a finger down his exposed back; hell, he didn�t even kiss his neck!
Feeling slightly cheated out of a nice experience, Davey opened his eyes and rolled over. . .
. . . He stood before the tree, looking up at the empty window of Adam�s tree house. Although it was empty, Davey knew his young friend was up there, moving about, getting things ready for when Little Davey came up. They were going to pull all the change they had, Davey knew, and buy the largest bag of water balloons they could get a hold of.
Last week, Tanisha Bridges and several of the girls had found out about Adam�s backyard fortress and bombarded the place with flowers and pink confetti while the boys were away. Just opening the trap door had brought a cascade of shining glitter on a furious Adam. Today, they�d teach those stupid girls a lesson or two.
Davey smirked and put his small hands to the planks of wood nailed to the tree trunk for a makeshift ladder. Just as he reached the trap door, his fingertips touched the wood grain and. . .
. . . he took a sip of milk to wash down the chocolate cake. Davey licked his lips free of the rich frosting and picked up the fork. It was almost too large for his grip, but he managed. With glee, he sliced away another chunk of Wanda�s delicious, moist cake. He speared this and banished it to his mouth.
Wanda, Adam�s mother, always made the best chocolate cake. She won an award once, she told Davey while he watched her prepare it. He and Adam had taken turns licking the empty batter bowl until their tummies hurt. That had been a hurtful, but a great time.
As he struggled past another large mouthful, Davey looked around the kitchen, wondering if Adam would come soon before he finished the cake himself. The boy usually never finished a meal by himself when Adam was around. He heard footsteps to his right, turned to look and. . .
. . . He stood on the railing, just before the pier, watching the sun sink just beyond the water. The ocean reflected orange, purple and pink in a kaleidoscope of flashes off it�s blue surface. A breeze blew cool, salted air to run across his pale skin and to ruffle through his newly dyed hair.
His right arm still stung from his earlier trip to the tattoo parlor as well as his chest. The burning, alcohol drenched heart, he knew, had been an excellent choice. As had been the cartoon characters. He loved cartoons, especially the dark, twisted ones. When he found Adam, he�d see about getting his name tattooed across his stomach. Then, maybe some wings across his back. Angel wings.
To be honest, the Do-Do bird tattoo just past his left shoulder really wasn�t matching with anything else. And besides, when they had nearly snagged him in Ireland, one of the guys had seen it. They would have made note of it by now.
Davey turned to the left and saw a few stores down the walkway. A tattoo parlor still open. Yes, the wings were a great idea. He�s arrive on Adam�s doorstep, a pale, dark-haired angelic deity.
Davey smiled, only vaguely hearing the creak of the planks behind him on the walkway. Curious, he turned and. . .
. . . flipped another page of Jade�s notebook, frowning. This was getting ridiculous. He knew where he was, what was going on. But what he didn�t know was why. Why? Why was he skipping from one memory to the next?
In disgust, he tossed the notebook down on his lap. Someone sat down beside him but he didn�t look up. In real life, it would have been Jade. They were on Adam�s bed, going over the band�s music. But just as he knew this wasn�t real, Davey knew it wasn�t Jade sitting beside him.
Angry, he turned away, not wanting to make the scene change by trying to see who it was. So he was surprised to see the man leaning against the closet door, watching him intently.
�Who are you?� Davey asked. The man tried to answer, but no sound came out of his mouth. His eyes flicked over to the presence beside Davey. And since it was only natural for him to look, Davey turned and. . .
. . . �Dammit!� He cried out. He stood in his kitchen, small hands dutifully making a peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwich. But in his anger, he slapped the knife down on the table�s surface while the bread and monstrous mixture squelched in his fist.
�Please tell me what the hell is going on here.� He spoke, voice young and high pitched, to the shadowy presence he felt by the refrigerator. But it was the man leaning against the sink in front of him that answered.
�You�re stuck in your own head again.� The man�s accent was a sloppy British that rolled off his tongue easily.
Davey looked up at him, not finding him even the slightest familiar. �Who. . . who are you? How�d you get in my house?�
The man took an unlit cigarette from over his ear and put it in his mouth, but he didn�t light it. �This isn�t your house, Davey,� he used the white stick to gesture with, �this is just another memory. See, you�re really in a hospital. You were shot, and you�re dying. Adam�s been trying to call you back, but he can�t seem to get you to listen. Asked me to come in an� see what�s what and who�s who. Y�know?�
Little Davey carefully peeled the crushed and soggy bread from his hand and began licking off his fingers. �Adam�s lookin� for me? Why can�t he just come over? Frank�s not here. And the crazy bitch is sleepin�. Why can�t he come over?�
The man sighed. He glanced over to the fridge. Davey continued to stare straight ahead. The man saw this and frowned. �Hey, Dave, why don�tcha look over by the fridge? See who it is?�
Little Davey shook his head. �If I do, he keeps making me go somewhere else. Then, I forget what I�ve been doing an� I hafta go through the scene. You know who it is. Why don�t YOU tell me?�
The man, quite thin and with his hair buzzed quite close to his head, chewed on his bottom lip. Finally, he shook his head. �Nah, can�t tell you. You hafta do it yourself. But, look, I can�t talk to you while you�re a kid. You won�t understand. Just look behind you and we�ll move to another memory where it�ll be easier.�
Davey blinked and tilted his head adorably in puzzlement. �Do I know you? You kinda look familiar.�
The man smiled, somewhat sadly. �Yeah, you know me, but it�s hard to remember because you�re in a memory that�s YEARS before we meet. See, around the same time you got shot, I got injured. We�re in the same hospital, I think, and that makes it easier to reach out to you. Adam�s opened the link for us. I�m not a telepath, Dave, but y�gotta pull outta this. You gotta wake up. Can�t keep running.�
�I�m not running!� Davey pouted.
The man nodded. �Yes, you are. Why don�t you look over there, then?�
�I told you!� Davey wailed, �I can�t see! It makes the places go away! An� I wanna stay here! This is where. . . this is where Adam. . . where we were the happiest. Before they took me away.� His head went down, his unbraided hair fell in a golden cascade of brilliance, obscuring his face from view.
�Happy?� The man leaned over the counter until he was only a short distance from the sniffling little boy. �Dave, happiness is where you make it, understand? So things are bad. So there�s people out there that don�t want you to stay with the one person who loves you. So what? Stuff like that happens everyday. It happens to every fuckin� person in the world! You don�t bloody just run and hide when things get bad. You stand and take control. Adam�s waiting for you outside. He can�t come in here and say it, but that�s what he would say, I bet. He�d not want you to give up, would he?�
Little Davey shook his head. He raised his face to the man, tear-streaked cheeks glistening in the afternoon sun form the kitchen window. �H-h-he alw-ways t-tryin� to. . . to tell me. . . t-t-to,� the little boy took great gulps of air, lips trembling as he wiped his eyes with the back of his clean hand, �t-to be s-s-stro-ong. To be. . . be like him. But I CAN�T! I c-can�t be like him! I can�t be strong! He�s the strong one! I�m just the weak one!�
The man frowned, then. . .
. . . He watched Davey closely. They were back on the pier, the sun once more going down and flooding the sky and water with bold colors. Davey leaned against the railing, squinting at the rays of light.
�I can be strong,� he said without preamble. �I�ve learned to be strong. I needed to be strong. I�m not that little kid anymore, the innocent one that let everyone control him. I�m NOT him. *I* rule here. *I* control. This is my head, my memories.� He peered sideways at the man staring at him, expression challenging. �And I say I�m not hiding.�
The man leaned against the wood also. �Good. Then why are you afraid to look behind you? See what�s in the shadows?�
The Davey of four years ago scowled. �I�m not afraid. It�s just impossible. I can�t. Whatever�s behind us makes the scenes change. Makes the memories change.�
�No, Davey,� he said eagerly, coming closer so that Davey could smell the traces of smoke clinging to his clothes, �that�s not what�s making you skip to another memory. YOU are doing this yourself. You�re running from it. You don�t want to see it, see the truth, so you�re trying to run, to save what else you have of yourself. But it�s not going to destroy you, Davey, it�s going to set you free.�
The dark-haired man was silent. He took in this news and stood contemplating what it meant. �I. . . I�m afraid.� he admitted.
The man grinned. �Adam said you�d be. Said to tell you he�s outside, holding your hand.�
That made Davey smile. �Is he? Well, then I guess all the monsters have to take a step back, don�t they? Especially since Addie�s holding my hand, like he always said he would.� He sighed and looked out to the water, then the man. He nodded. �Alright. I�ll look. But. . . not here. There�s somewhere I have to be. Somewhere that I think I need to be. Help me find it?�
The man nodded and spread out his hands. �I am yours to command for this trip.� He held out his hand and Davey took it, then. . .
. . . Davey found himself sitting in the bathtub, presently still angry at Adam for teasing him. Sharing the tub, and sitting cross-legged in front of him, the man grinned. �What exactly you got in mind, luv?� His thin eyebrows wagged slyly.
Davey shook his head. �Wrong memory. We have to go back further.�
He gripped both of the man�s hands with his own, then. . .
. . . They sat in the tree house, the man extremely cramped under the low roof, then. . .
. . . �Ah, this is it!� Davey sighed and sank deeper into the plush red cushion. The man fell into the matching blue one just to his right. They looked around.
�What is this place?� the man asked as he peered about. The space of floor where they lay was covered with rich, expensive cushions, several with golden tassels and shimmering fabrics. The decor of the room was Middle Eastern, using elaborate animal paintings along the wall and sheer curtains hung from billowing canopies. Golden lanterns hung at the corners, giving the room a moody, slow atmosphere. Somewhere, not too far off, someone was burning a musky incense. The place looked like a harem. The only thing missing was the belly-dancing girls.
�We�re actually just outside of London.� Davey whispered to him. �This is my room. My aunt thinks that so long as she keeps me comfortable, she can keep me away from Adam. She never understood about love.�
The man looked around, then back at Davey. �So why here?�
�This is the night when I decided to take the chance and run away, the night it actually worked.� Davey stood and the man followed him. But when he got a look at what Davey was wearing, his jaw dropped in shock.
Davey was wearing a dress. Yes, with pants underneath, but a dress nonetheless. It was a thick cloth, dark green and embroidered with thick gold around the edges. He reached up to adjust his long braid of blonde hair, then wrapped a dark green scarf around his head until only his eyes showed. On his feet, he wore dark green slippers that were soundless as he walked. �They had bells on them,� he whispered when he saw him looking, �so that my aunt could know when I was coming. But I tore them off earlier so they wouldn�t hear. I�m going to go listen.�
He turned and walked silently out the door. The man followed just as soundlessly, since he wasn�t really there, anyway. Davey glided down the hall like a ghost, disappearing into a shadow each time footsteps sounded. No one saw him, no one even suspected he was out of his room. They knew Davey was always well behaved, especially if his aunt was at home.
They made their way further down until they came to a small broom closet. Davey ushered for the man to follow him inside. Once in, Davey closed the door, flooding them with darkness. The man waited, then a scraping sound came. Light came in through a long slit in the wall.
�Come, see. Listen.� Davey pulled him forward so that they stood side by side, peering out through the peephole. They stared out into a well-lit room, almost too bright for them to see clearly after the darkness of the closet.
They blinked and focused. The man took a deep breath. There was Davey�s aunt, Celeste Ghrey, sitting at the head of a conference table, going over files and papers. A large map with tiny red flags positioned over several continents hung on the opposite wall. Celeste read off the papers, marking numbers, identifying places, then nodding to the man at the map. It was the ominous Commander Konrad Blue.
Along the table sat various famous and most wicked villains of the world, all equally evil and dangerous. Even Madame Sophia Scarlett was present. She sat to Ghrey�s right and peered about with cold, vicious eyes.
But none of this made sense. He didn�t understand what they were doing, what was going on. �Davey,� he said, barely above a whisper, �what�s going on? What are they doing?�
�Plotting the next World War III.� Davey breathed sadly, �She told me what she did was to help people, but she lied. She wasn�t trying to help anyone but herself. She was greedy, got too much taste for money and power and just couldn�t stop. They�ve come up with a plan, these nineteen people sitting here. They�ve all set themselves up in different areas in the world, all with access to their country�s government warheads.
�They�ll all make profits if the world goes to war with itself. Some will sell artillery, others plan to invade their neighbors. Still, others, like Blue and Scarlett will do it simply to watch the bloodshed. My aunt, she�ll do it for the money. When the war�s over, the major countries will go bankrupt and that will leave opportunities for the rich to step in and assume command. And since Celeste will be the richest of them all. . . well, she always fancied herself a queen in every right. Why not actually have her own country to make it official?�
He didn�t miss the bitterness in Davey�s voice. But he had nothing to say. All this time. . . War could have erupted within the five years they had been looking for Davey. Their agency, the one who hired Brian and Stefan to add Steve to their band in order to give him a cover while he searched, then hired them all into the training. . . the agency WASN�T with the government? They were really working for the bad guys? This was all just a trick to cause chaos and disorder. . . to make Celeste Ghrey the ruler of the world?
He shook his head and looked at Davey. �What now?�
Davey held up a hand, then, �Look, they�re leaving. We wait here. I waited here, until the last of them left. The strangers, the foreign agents, they all leave first. I watched them, and I cried. That was the final straw. I lost it then. I wanted nothing to do with them. I wanted out. But. . . first. . .� he broke off in a whisper and peered through the crack again. The man moved to look as well.
They saw that it was now the evil trio left, as well as one more person. It was a young man with spiky, jet-black hair. He wore a dark suit with a dark green shirt underneath. On his feet were sneakers.
�That�s Alec Greene. He�s Scarlett�s protege. He doesn�t know, but he�s got just six months to live. They�ll catch him trading information with the London Guard. They�ll execute him after they make him watch his family die. Scarlett herself was the one to pull the trigger for them all. An inside source that helped me escape told me this.� Greene strolled gracefully over and offered a hand to his master, expression carefree. Scarlett simpered at the attention of the young man and allowed him to help her up. Together, with much secret whispering and giggling, they walk out together. That left Ghrey and Blue to tidy up the meeting room.
Ghrey piled the folders at one end of the table before hurrying over to help Blue before he fell off the stool as he tried to bring down the map. Together, they began rolling it up. Just as they were putting it into a large canister, the far door opened and a figure in yellow rushed in, breathless.
�Chartreuse,� Davey muttered, �tortured, but not killed, for allowing me to escape.�
The woman didn�t stop until she hurried over to Ghrey. �Ma�am, your nephew is missing.�
Celeste grunted, eyebrows knotting. �Davey? He�s probably in the loo.�
�No, Ma�am, he isn�t. I�ve checked his restroom, the kitchens, even his play room, he isn�t there.�
�You had a �play room�?� the man asked.
Davey rolled his eyes. �My aunt was still under the impression I was a kid. Wanted me to stay one, forever. Even after she was present at my twenty-first birthday party.�
Now Ghrey frowned and looked at the women. �What do you mean, he�s not there? I saw him to bed just over an hour ago. He couldn�t have left his room. Where was the guard stationed outside his door?�
Chartreuse flinched and made a small, whimpering sound. �H-he stepped out once he heard Davey snoring. Said he went out for a fag since Madame Scarlett complained about him smoking indoors once. Said when he returned, there was no noise from inside. So, he looked inside, he did. Gone missing. And. . . there were these.� She held out her hand. Ghrey and Blue leaned over to see the small, brass bells clinking happily on her palm.
Ghrey exchanged a quick, dark look with her chief commander, then snapped sharply at her underling. �Set every guard at attention, tell them to check the perimeter. He can�t have gotten far. Not this time.�
Chartreuse nodded and obediently ran to follow orders. Ghrey and Blue exchanged a few words and hurried out. Ghrey followed after the woman, but Blue left out a hidden passage behind a hanging wall scroll. They waited, then Davey moved away from the peephole.
�They�re gone. They think I�ve left by the southern entrance. I won�t know about that until after I�m gone. My actual escape is through the kitchens. There�s a cook there I�ve been giving my saved allowance to. He�ll sneak me out and be able to afford that motorcycle he�s been telling me about.� As Davey spoke, he led him out of the broom closet and down the hall to a solid oak door. It was locked, but with a quick trick Davey learned from said friend, he had the door open in less than a minute.
He closed the door behind him and followed Davey up the length of the table to the stack of files. �This here,� Davey pulls out one file while scattering the others to disguise which one he had, �is the access codes to all the key military complexes. Without these, they can�t set their plan into motion. They can�t get this information again, because if they chance it, the military will know their codes were tampered with and they�ll change them. They need these to start it all, so I�m taking them.�
He took out several sheets of paper and stuffed them securely inside his outfit. He turned and met his eyes. �Later, I�ll have a chance to look at the papers. I�ll memorize the codes, then I�ll burn the papers. The ashes I sent back to my aunt in a baggie. They all thought the codes were lost. But when one of the psychics happened to get close to catching me one time, they saw what I did in my head and told my aunt. That�s why she set out to find me, no matter what the cost.�
�I understand now, I think.� He nodded, the unlit cigarette wagging up and down between his lips. His arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the table. �They just want you for what�s in your head, that right? Why not just give them what they want and escape?�
Davey shook his head. He unwrapped the cloth from around his head, eyes glittering in the bright lights. �It would have meant war, destruction, chaos. I couldn�t just let that happen, then go on living peacefully with Adam. It would have killed me, just knowing what I�d done. So, I ran. I tried getting immunity from the government, any one of them, but they all laughed at the idea. What could Celeste Ghrey, ex-mafia connection of some twenty years ago, do to cause World War III? Even I thought it was ludicrous, and I had seen them plan it all!�
Davey shook his head and sighed. �But I should have known Celeste would find me with Adam, eventually. There was no escaping you, was there, aunt?� Davey then turned and looked behind him, into the shadowy part that had followed him.
Out of the shadow stepped Celeste Ghrey. But not as they knew, old woman with wrinkled, gnarled hands. This Celeste Ghrey was how she always saw herself; young, strong and vibrant. Her hair was still a shock of silver, but her skin was smooth and glowing. Her eyes were piercing and her stature was straight as she gracefully moved with the stealth of a predator cat.
She gave a small, cruel smile. �There is never an escape from me, Davey dearest. You should have known that by now.� She looked at the other man, frowning. �But. . . how are YOU here? I know how I got here, but. . . you?�
He smiled faintly and shrugged. �Adam, wanted to make sure you weren�t in that shadow any longer than necessary. Especially when you blocked his access to Davey�s mind. Out with it, old hag. Tell Davey what he needs, then got on with you.�
Celeste glared but when she glanced at Davey, gave a simple nod. �Davey, you are my son. You are the light of my life, my most precious possession. And because of that, I knew you weren�t safe. I had to find you a safe place to live until I could come for you. I couldn�t tell you the truth, you must understand, because you might have told your friends, then they would have told their parents and then it would have been too late. They would have found you.�
�Who is �they�?� Davey asked, taking all this information in as quickly as he could. He had a feeling this wasn�t going to be a long talk, not now that he knew what that shadow was.
�They,� Celeste said with sad humor, �anyone who wanted me dead or ruined. Anyone who wanted to sink the knife into my most vulnerable spot. You. I had to keep you somewhere safe. So when I heard my half-sister had miscarried, I saw it as an opportunity to get you in with a ready family. I had no idea the loss of her child, your cousin, would push my sister over the edge. I should have checked in more often, but I was afraid to put too mush attention on your direction.�
Davey nodded slowly, �Okay, I see how it was. But why didn�t you tell me all this when you had me, years later? Why insist that you were still my aunt? Why did you not tell me the truth, when I could have used it the most?�
Celeste sighed and looked about her, anywhere but at Davey�s eyes. �Because. . . Davey, well, see. . . I,� she looked up finally, with an emotion in her eyes that was vaguely human, �I just wasn�t cut out to be a mother. A loving aunt? Absolutely. I could handle that job, easy. But mother? No, we both couldn�t have handled it, I think. It was either give you up entirely, or continue in with the lie.�
Davey frowned, then straightened. �Wait, what about my father? Who is he? WHERE is he? If it wasn�t Frank, then who was it?�
Celeste paled. Her hands shook slightly and she turned away. When it looked like she was able to speak again, she looked up at Davey, lips pressed tight and every muscle of her body wired with some strong emotion. �Davey, listen to me, if you never forgive me for nearly killing you, for keeping you from Adam, from just being the wicked old witch. . . then you must never speak to your father. You must never go looking for him. He makes me look like a saint. You must avoid him at all costs.�
Davey�s jaw dropped. �What? But, why?�
�Davey,� Celeste�s voice came now urgently, �if he ever finds out our his son, he�ll either kill you or make you like him. Please, Davey, don�t let him find you. I think maybe, now that I�m, dead, he�ll look into just exactly what I�ve been doing these past five years. He might not understand exactly who you are, but. . . Davey, if he sees you. . .� she swallowed thickly, �Davey, you have his eyes. If he sees a mirror image of himself in a stranger, he�ll ask questions. Then he�ll know. Davey, please, stay in hiding as much as possible.� She took a few steps back toward the shadow behind her, clearly signifying the conversation was coming to a close.
Davey shook his head in disbelief. �But, how will I know who I�m avoiding if I don�t even know who he is? At least tell me his name! He looks like me? So what else? Tell me! Please!�
Celeste now faced the darkness, but looked back over her shoulder one final time. She smiled beautifully at Davey. �I can�t tell you his name, because it won�t be any use to you, not any more. He�ll have changed it by now. But. . . I remember, the two of you share the eyes, the continual habit of getting your way all the time, and your love of music.� She grimaced through her smile, �And a fondness for your childhood best friend. Anything else, I�m afraid, is just. . . lies. . .� And with that, Celeste stepped through the shadow and disappeared. The dark gap closed in on itself, healing not just one but many parts of Davey�s mind.
He turned to the man still present. �I know who you are.� Davey smiled suddenly. �You�re my friend�s friend, aren�t you?�
The man smiled. �Brian. His name is Brian.�
Davey slowly nodded. �I should have known. I think I had an inkling, but I just didn�t. . .� he stopped and looked around him. �Oh, I�m leaving here, aren�t I?�
The man nodded. �You�re waking up. And I�m leaving. Do me a favor, though, sweets.�
Davey smiled. �Sure.�
�Tell Brian,� and the man finished, grinning widely. It was the whiteness of his teeth that Davey saw last before. . .
****************************
He opened his eyes and blinked. There was that whiteness again. Only this time it was the sterile white of a hospital room. A voice asked him when the last time he had such a terrific deal on cutlery. Another voice told him this was the best deal he could find, not found in stores.
Davey frowned. He slowly drew himself up to a sitting position against the head rest. Just beyond the foot of his bed, a televison set suspended in the corner of the room blared infomercials with blatant disregard for the boredom of the people watching.
Davey grunted faintly and looked to his side. There were two of his best friends, snuggled together in one comfortable looking chair. Jade was on the left, Hunter on the right. It was hard to tell who was holding who, but both his friends seemed to be completely at peace where they were. Jade�s hand cradled Hunter�s neck and threaded fingers through bleached hair. Hunter�s arms were wrapped securely around Jade�s waist as they slept soundly, without a care in the world.
He didn�t want to wake them up, destroying the precious image, so he took the remote from the bedside table and turned off the tv. Unfortunately, it was the constant noise that was keeping the two asleep. In it�s absence, Jade and Hunter began to stir. Jade made a noise. Hunter made an answering noise. Jade, hearing Hunter next to him, clutched tighter. Hunter, feeling the hold, sighed and hugged closer.
Davey smiled widely. Perhaps the two sensed this, or perhaps they simply realized the tv was off. Whatever it was, they both turned at the same time and blinked sleepily at Davey. They turned back, saw who they were holding, and immediately jerked back.
�Hey!� Jade cried out in dismay.
�What the hell do you think you�re doing, holding me like I was your boyfriend!� Hunter struggled off and away, falling to the floor in the process.
Jade managed to stay on the chair but glared darkly at Hunter. �Holding you? Holding YOU? YOU were holding ME! I distinctly felt that hand of yours on my butt, you dumbass!�
�Yeah?� Hunter straightened himself out and glared back, �well, you had YOUR hand. . .�
�Ahem.� Davey cleared his throat, still grinning like a fool. The two stopped and looked at him.
�Davey?� Jade smiled. �You really awake?�
Hunter hurried out the room. �Yeah,� Davey nodded, �where�s. . .?� he was about to ask about Adam, but Jade misinterpreted his question.
�Oh, the nurse on duty said we could stay over night so long as we call her when there�s a difference in the monitors. Sorry about falling asleep, Davey, we�ve just been tired lately.� He stopped, then grinned to melt hearts. �God, it�s good to see you up and awake again.�
Davey nodded. �Thanks. It�s great to be among the living again. How long was I asleep? A few hours?�
Jade�s smile fell several notches. �Dave. . .�
�You�ve been asleep for two weeks, Mister Havok.� A woman in light purple pants and a hospital-friendly print top walked in. She held a clipboard against her and was followed by Hunter. �We need to check your vitals and administer a few tests, if that�s alright with you. How far back can you remember?� She set the clipboard down on the bed and pulled out a pen light to check Davey�s eyes.
�Right up until I was shot, I guess.� Davey said quietly. �Up until my mother shot me.�
The nurse hesitated only briefly before going on. �I�m terribly sorry, Mister Havok. Come on, let�s see how your reflexes are.�
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The testing was done but Davey wasn�t allowed to leave. The doctor overseeing his condition wouldn�t be back on shift until the morning. And seeing as how it was three a.m., Davey and the others decided it was just rational to go ahead and wait the night out.
Then Davey asked the question he�s been trying to ask for nearly an hour. �Where�s Adam? Is he alright?�
Jade and Hunter exchanged a quick but noticeable glance. �Yeah,� Jade said reluctantly, �he�s alright, I guess. Just kinda. . . kinda messed up, what with you being in a coma for two weeks and all, nearly dying form a gunshot. . . you know.� He shrugged and straightened the sheet on Davey�s bed.
Davey looked from one to the other. �Well, shouldn�t we let him know I�m awake so he doesn�t have to worry?�
Hunter actually flushed red and turned away. Jade kept his cool. He smiled for Davey. �Hey, yeah, that�s actually what we were going to do. See, me an� Hunt promised some people, mostly Addie, Tim, Lars, the guys, to let them all know when you woke up. The moment you woke, we�re supposed to go call them up.� He shrugged helplessly.
Davey nodded. �Ah, I see. And. . . maybe it�s not a good time to call them at three in the morning, huh?� He smiled at them. He saw them physically relax, but didn�t lose his smile. So they were reluctant to get in touch with Adam? Why?
Oh God, Davey thought, please let him be sober.
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Davey woke again, thankfully, to a bright, sunny day. Hunter and Jade were nowhere in sight but there was a note saying they were out making their calls to their friends. Davey wondered at that, but let it go.
After another check-up by the nurse, than a thorough one by the doctor, Davey was reluctantly given his clothes. While he slept, the gunshot wounds had plenty of time to heal, leaving only a small scar just below his rib cage. There had been some internal damage but the emergency crew working that night were able to keep it to a minimum.
As Davey finished pulling the shirt over his head (theses were fresh clothes Jade had brought for when he woke, since the other shirt had been drenched in blood and cut away while they patched him back up) there came a lewd whistle.
He looked back, expecting to see Jade, Hunter, or even his Adam. But instead it was Brian. He leaned against the doorframe somewhat stiffly. He wore no make-up, his hair hung limp, and his outfit was as simple baggy T and well-worn jeans. An unlit cigarette was held between his fingers as he sipped from a cup of coffee.
He winked at Davey and smiled. �Always looked good topless, didn�t you?�
Davey grinned. �Just good?� He paused then walked over to give Brian a hug. It was quick, since Brian winced at the brief pressure. �Are you alright?� Davey asked worriedly.
Brian nodded. �Yeah, yeah, I�m good. Just. . . well, it�s healed, it�s just sore now and then. Doc says I was nearly a goner by the time the paramedics came for us. Just my luck, eh? Don�t think I could have stood it if I got to hell and not had another chance at seeing you naked again.� His green eyes glinted, but his voice was soft and subdued. Near death must have settled the fire that was Brian Molko to a low burning ember.
Davey smiled, eyes still twinkling. �You came to see me naked once more?�
Brian chuckled. �No, not really. Don�t think Hunter liked my idea of having a go at you while you were comatose. Actually, I only came here by chance. I was down the hall, looking in on my friend, when I got up to get a coffee. Then I figured I�d stop by to see how my sleeping beauty was doing.� He looked over a now dressed Davey. �You checking out?�
Davey nodded. �Yeah, I was about to go see if I could get a hold of Adam. Jade and Hunter seem a little reluctant to tell me where he is. You haven�t heard from him lately, have you?�
Brian touched the cigarette to his lips, inhaled, then stopped when he remembered it wasn�t lit. He looked back up at Davey, then nodded. �Yeah, I go see him now and then, make sure he�s alright, you know. Jade and Hunter, they go back and forth, visiting you and Adam. But look, I�m gonna go see Stefan, then I�m gonna head out to see Steve. If you want, I can take you to see Adam. He�s just on the way.�
�Thanks, Brian!� Davey lit up with a grin.
But instead of heading toward the elevators to go to the front desk, Brian turned and headed down the hall. A few doors down and he turned in to a room. Davey followed cautiously, then froze in shock when he saw who was in the bed.
Stefan, the man who had accompanied Davey through his selected memories, lay on crisp, clean sheets, oblivious to the world. Wires and hoses were attached everywhere available. Machines beeped and hummed in an electrical symphony.
Brian walked around to the side of the bed and gave Stefan�s forehead a light kiss. �I�m back, luv. Miss me? Didn�t go very far this time. See? I brought Davey over to see you.�
The man didn�t stir, didn�t make a sound. Where as Davey woke, Stefan didn�t appear to be able to. Davey must have made some sort of a sound because Brian hurried back over to him.
�No, no, Dave, don�t worry,� Brian assured him. But there was still that cold, empty look to his eyes. �He�s fine! He�s just in a little coma. Those damn peeps did a fuckin� number on him, that�s all. Just needs some rest and time to get his shit straightened out in his head, y�know? He�s alright.�
�Brian,� Davey said quietly, �Stefan helped me wake up.� Brian turned surprised eyes on Davey, so he told him everything that happened. He told him everything Stefan helped him with, then told him his last message.
�Bri,� Davey whispered, �he told em to tell you. . . to tell you that you keep asking him whether you should let him go or not. That if he wants you to keep him alive, he�d have to wake up soon.� At this, Brian�s skin paled and his eyes widened. His knees grew weak and he collapsed bonelessly into the chair behind him, �I. . . I don�t understand what he meant by this, but. . . well, he told you to go ahead and give him the blow job while he was asleep, and not to wait another minute.�
Brian grunted, then grinned, then roared laughter. He looked to the sleeping man on the bed, �Stefan, you fucker!� he laughed and ran to the man�s side. He gently kissed Stefan�s temple. With watery, relieved eyes, Brian whispered quietly into Stefan�s ear. Then with one more kiss, he turned and began leading Davey out.
�Are you. . . alright?� Davey asked quietly as they headed toward the elevators.
Brian was still chuckle with mirth but managed to give a clear enough answer. �I joked with him one night. I told him if he thought there was nothing worth living for, then I�d give him a blow job every morning for the rest of his life. That fucking bastard. . . had me fucking worried. . .� He looked at Davey, then burst out in fresh, wet laughter.
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Brian led Davey up the front stairs and to the front desk. Come up the drive, Brian drove too fast for Davey to read the brass plaque on the outer wall, so he had no idea where the little demon was taking him.
With the news that Stefan was looking to be okay, Brian seemed to have lit his fires back up to full blown. Davey was relieved to see his friend back to himself once again. He followed Brian as he strolled sensuously to the front desk with the large black man in the white uniform.
The tag clipped to his shirt read C. Johnson, but Brian seemed to know him personally. �Carl, my man, how�s it going?� Carl grinned and gave Brian�s outstretched hand a mocking kiss, as if he were a princess.
�I figured you�d be by sometime soon, you crazy git,� Carl was British, small world. He gave Davey a look that screamed �security enforcer�. �So who�s the friend? That boyfriend you were telling me about?�
Brian grinned widely. �Gosh, no. He�s still sleeping, thankfully. If he knew what the two of us got up to, we�d have to be careful, wouldn�t we?� he gave Carl a lewd wink. �No, this here�s Davey Havok.�
Carl stopped grinning and looked at Davey sharply. He looked at Brian, then back again. �You know I can�t do this, Bri,� Carl shook his head, �he�s gotta get green from upstairs. He�s gotta have three kinds of clearance just to even SEE the insides of that gate.� He jerked his thumb at the metal gate behind him.
�Oh, well, if it�s any trouble, I�ll. . .� wait here, was what he was going to say, but Brian hushed him with a hand.
�Come on, Carl,� Brian pleaded, suddenly serious. �You know him. He�s gotta come with me. He�s just got to. Please? For love?�
Brian batted those green eyes and pouted those nice lips. But Davey was sure that wasn�t what settled it with Carl. It was the strange look he was giving Davey, that searching look, that he was sure let the two of them go beyond the metal gates.
�Alright,� Carl said as he closed the gate behind him again. After Brian and Davey had signed in on the ledger, Carl came out from behind the desk. It seemed he was going to be their guide. �I can let you go in, Bri, but I can�t open the door for Davey. It stays shut. But I�ll let the window open. That�s all I can do without security clearance.�
Brian nodded, �That�s all he needs right now, thanks Carl.� Brian led him further down the hall, the security guard following just behind.
�Brian, why are we. . .?� Davey tried asking, but Brian ignored him.
�See, Steve�s alright.� Brian said, maybe just slightly on edge. �He�s just fine. Asks about Stefan every five minutes. Asks about me every two, even if I�m sitting right in front of him. He�s still got a good grip on the language, so that�s a good sign, but I�ve been trying to teach him to tie his shoes again. I think he�s getting it.� Brian grinned widely. They stopped in the middle of the hall.
�I�ll be in there,� Brian motioned to a door down the hall, �the one two down, with Steve�s name on it. Yours is right here. Call me if you need anything.�
Davey watched Brian walk away, then turned to the door his friend pointed out. Carl was eyeing him carefully as he opened the small window set above the nameplate on the door. The name on the door read �A. Carson�. Numb, Davey stepped forward to peer into the padded cell and it�s single occupant.
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