DISCLAIMER: Standard disclaimers apply. If you are underage (18 or 21, depending) and/or are offended by mature themes including consensual sexual contact between teen males, then DO NOT continue. This work is entirely fictional and any resemblances to persons either living or dead, is entirely coincidental. If you wish to reprint this story, just drop me an email letting me know where, and make sure you give me (Menzo) credit.
Feel free to give me criticism; my writing is far from perfect! Comments are very much appreciated, so please drop me a quick email at menzoberranzen_of_the_drow@yahoo.com
~Menzo
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"A mighty pain to love it is, and 'tis a pain that pain to miss; but
of all the pains, the greatest pain is to love, but love in
vain."
-Abraham Crowley
Astonished didn't even began to describe how I was feeling at that moment. Many, many feeling were rushing through my head at that instant, but the most pressing matter was the rapidly fading sound of foot falls.
"Fyr..." began Tom, a little confused.
"Don't," was all I managed as I pulled on a pair of ragged jeans, forgoing a shirt entirely, and ran out of my room at top speed. I ignored the counselor who yelled at me for running in the hallways and I made it into the main foyer just in time to see Kale disappear through the door. I ran after him and, panting finally caught up with him over in a secluded copse of trees.
"Wait, Kale," I called around heavy breaths. He spun around on his heels and looked me coldly in the eye.
"What," he snapped.
"We need to talk," I said, hoping the fact he wasn't running away was a good sign.
"I have nothing to say to you, Fyr," he said coldly. He turned to walk away but I placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Everything we've been through doesn't merit listening to me?" I pleaded.
"Everything we've been through didn't merit loyalty?" he screamed at me tearfully. I was a bit taken aback by the anger in his voice.
"Please," I said, close to tears. I placed a hand on his arm and looked up into his eyes.
"No," he said, shaking off my hand. He turned and started walking away. I went ahead and started talking anyway.
"I thought you were dead, Kale! Do you have any idea what that did to me?"
"Dead?!" he laughed derisively. "I wasn't there one morning so you assume I was dead and go...find somebody else."
"It wasn't like that, and I'll be damned if you actually think it was." I was on the verge of tears, but I was also hurt that he could suggest I would do that. "I found your body, covered in blood in a ditch. What was I supposed to think? There was no breathing and I panicked. I went to find Lucky, but then you were gone. Nobody knew where you were." At this point I was openly crying at the recent memory and all the unresolved problems it had left me with.
"You've obviously moved on quite nicely, though," he said coldly. My watery eyes opened wide and struggled to speak.
"You have no idea," I whispered. "I have lived in a bottle for the past month; I had nothing to dull the pain when I got here. I needed...something to fill the void. Kale, please..."
"I know what happened, Fyr, and we're through. Finished. Goodbye."
I stood there in a stunned silence. He turned to walk away, but I wasn't ready for it to end like this.
"I was there for you, Kale, when no one else was," I said quietly. My voice was calm, but he froze in mid-step to turn around.
"You promised," he finally choked.
"I was there for you. Ever, unquestioningly, by your side. I stood up for you when they had all forsaken you. I am the reason you weren't dead six months ago. You owe me this, at least."
I was taking a huge gamble here and I knew it. I had done everything I said and more, but I had also promised to never mention it again as long as I lived.
"Fyr," he started, heat seeping into his voice. "That was not the same."
"No," I agreed. "That was far worse than what I did. Yet I forgave you without hesitation."
My expression was as cold as the one that lay over his face. I knew how much he regretted that incident, and I did feel bad, in a way, for resorting to holding past crimes over his head. It was merited, I thought, but I softened my voice when I next spoke.
"We all make mistakes, Kale. You know - whether you admit it or not - that I wasn't trying to hurt you, or go behind your back."
There was a long pause before he finally spoke. "I need to be alone," he said wearily. I gaped, finding this a terribly inadequate end to our 'discussion,' but it seemed that was all I was going to get at the moment. I watched him leave with sadness and when he was out of sight I trudged back to the main building.
The following days were nothing short of a living hell for me. For starters, Kale had apparently taken up residence there and everywhere I went, I saw him. He said nothing, and avoided me when he could. I cried many a night for him, but I refused, refused to beg him. 'Out there,' we had needed each other just to survive. It was different here, in a way, but I knew that I wasn't anywhere near ready to let him go.
I maintained a composed face when around other people, but my temper was growing short and I had chewed up one side of Tom and down the other when he broached the subject of having some 'fun,' as he put it. The only other people who seemed to have any clue I wasn't having the best of weeks were Joe - the basketball bully - and Dr. Green. Joe took every opportunity to smirk at me in a knowing manner - knowing, of all things! - while Dr. Green just insisted, in her irritating fashion, that we needed to talk.
"Jacob," came a familiar, cool voice from the door. Tom was in the small library at the facility and I was moping on my bed. I heard the choice of name, and rolled over to face the wall.
"Fyr," she tried again. She sounded irritated, I noted with childish pleasure. Pleased with my petty victory, I sat up and turned to face her.
"Yes?" I asked.
"May we talk for a while?" she asked. Although I wouldn't have admitted it on my deathbed, she was doing an admirable job of being civil to a sulky teenager who had been nothing but rude to her.
"No, we may not," I said simply. "I believe I made that clear the other day."
"Quite," she smirked. "You were quite colorful in your language, if I recall correctly. I suppose it is a blessing - a rather small one - that your vocabulary consists of words with more than four letters."
I was surprised at this change in tactic, but I merely smiled before she continued.
"However, you don't really have a choice. We are going to talk anyway."
"Fine."
"Yes, fine. So, why don't you start by telling my why you avoid that new kid, with the black hair."
"You certainly know which questions to start with, don't you?" I said sarcastically. "Next."
"Jacob," she menaced.
"What?" I snapped aggressively. "My name is not Jacob, and you aren't going to change that by using it. You just don't get it at all do you? I don't care. I don't care what you think about me, my past or my habits. I don't care how many nights a week I have to do dishes and I certainly don't give a damn how you think I should live my life."
"Frankly, Fyr, I don't care either. I don't care if you want to talk to me or not. Because in the end, you will." She was very matter of fact - a trait I admired...wait, no! - and I recognized that she wasn't just the pretty face she appeared to be.
"Alright, then. You ask me questions, because I have no choice, and I'll tell you to shove it, because I don't want to talk about it."
"Why don't we talk about something else, then," she suggested reasonably. I hated her more for being reasonable.
"Or you could push me," I smiled ruefully. "So that I would have an excuse to use foul language and yell?"
She smiled, genuinely, and told me that she'd come back later. I blinked once when I heard this information, but I wasn't about to argue. I suppose that...progress had been made. I had always hated hating people who were reasonable.
I found myself smiling when she left and promptly scolded myself appropriately. I liked being able to bandy words with someone. It had been rather dull conversation, for the most part, over the course of the last year and a half. So, feeling moderately less like total crap, I grabbed a towel and walked to the shower room.
I walked into the showers but as soon as my face rounded the corner I stopped. After everything that had happened, it broke me. It broke me, and then sent me over the edge. There, in the center of the room, was a naked Kale kneeling on the floor, a $20 bill clasped in his hands, going down on Joe's hulking frame.
I strode out of the room, unable to hear anything over the ringing sound in my ears. Rather than go back the way I came, I took a left turn into the laundry room. I don't believe in fate, and luck only stretched so far in my mind, but as I walked past the rows of clean clothing, I noticed a folded security uniform with a holster sitting neatly on top. Without breaking pace I pulled the loaded pistol from the holster and walked out of the building.
I had made it across the grounds to an unoccupied tennis court before I finally heard any sound other than the ringing in my ears. I turned around to see Kale - screaming and wearing nothing but a towel - come running. He had alerted everyone else, too, because right as he stopped a small crowd formed around us. He was about 20 feet away from when I cocked the gun and pointed it at him, drawing shrieks from the onlookers. He visibly braced himself, and started walking slowly towards me.
By this time security guards and one police officer were running over to the scene, but I barely noticed them.
"Goodbye Kale."
He froze in mid-step but I just laughed mirthlessly and brought the gun to my head. The security guards were trying to force their way to the front of the crowd, but Kale threw out his hand, motioning for them to stop.
"Wait," he said urgently. "Let me deal with this." The hesitated, but as I waved the gun, they nodded and stepped back.
"What, Kale?" I taunted. "Didn't mean for me to find out?"
"Fyr..."
"Well," I reasoned. "You obviously did. You never sold your body even when you hadn't eaten in days. So this brings us to my next point: Why shouldn't I kill us both. Was revenge really worth dying for." There was no compassion, no hint of humanity in my voice. There wasn't even sadness or anger; just nothing.
"People make mistake, right?" he said cautiously, recalling my words from our last encounter. I laughed another humorless laugh.
"Mistakes," I mused. "You made a mistake by not seeing reason. You made a mistake for which I forgave you. You did not return the favor, and I now I should forgive this?"
"Look, I was high and I wasn't thinking. It was stupid and...I'm sorry. For everything."
"Sorry," I screamed, finally showing some emotion. "Why? And don't blame the weed. I did what I did because I loved you and I thought I had lost you forever. You did what you did to hurt me. There was no other reason!"
I was screaming around my tears and I refused to see the genuine apology on Kale's face.
"I love you," he said simply. I started crying even harder and I waved my gun around as I struggled to speak.
"Don't," I whispered. "Don't lie to me. Don't try to make me feel bad about this."
"It's not a lie," he responded. He was walking slowly, but steadily towards me. "And Fyr, no matter how much you might hate me right now, you still love me. You may not even forgive me, but you still love me."
I hated that he was right and I hated that I couldn't not forgive him. "Then why wait until it came to this?" I sobbed, lowering the gun. If he responded, I didn't hear it. I collapsed into his arms and the gun fall to the ground. The last thing I remember was a sudden rush of people as the cops ran into secure me.
I woke several hours later in a warm hospital bed with the familiar feeling of a sleeping body next to mine. I sat up and the figure next to me moved to do the same. I hadn't even the time to think when I felt the soft, comforting feeling of Kale's lips descending on to mine.
"I'm...sorry," he said when he finally pulled away from me. "I know sorry doesn't cut it but..."
"Yes it does," I said with a small sigh.
"What?"
"You were right. Sorry probably shouldn't cut it, but you were right. I love you and I spent almost two months thinking you were dead. I'm not losing you again now, no matter how angry I should be."
It felt a bit pathetic that I needed him so much, but I had resigned myself to that long ago. You might not have gotten the impression that he felt likewise (and I hardly blame you) but he did. I knew I would forgive him sooner or later, and sooner seemed to be better for me at that time.
"Thanks," he said softly. "But I really am sorry. Nothing you did deserved that kind of treatment from me. Nothing, and I..."
"Forget it," I said firmly. "I know or you wouldn't be sitting on my bed. Lets put the past behind us; I just want it to be us again."
"Us," he repeated with a smile. He then leaned down and gave me another dizzying kiss. He was a fabulous kisser and when I finally came up for air, it really did feel like it always had between us: Right.
For the first time since I found out that Kale wasn't, in fact, dead I really felt the thrill I should have felt all along. There was no tension, and I could just enjoy the feelings of loss and depression seep out of me. Kale had never liked being affectionate in public, but I think he was trying to make it up to me and we kissed for what seemed like hours. All good things must come to an end, though, and the door eventually opened, admitting Dr. Green to the room. I was much to happy to be angry at her.
"Hello darling," I called out. "Kale, Dr. Green. Dr. Green, Kale."
They mumbled a brief greeting and Dr. Green look more than a little surprised. She opened her mouth but I cut her off.
"Do we have to do this?" I asked, almost pleadingly.
"Yes, Fyr, we do," she said sympathetically. I smiled that she used my name without prompting. "I know it might be hard, but you gave everyone quite a scare yesterday."
"I imagine I did," I replied. "Would it help if the reason I did what I did is right here and in no imminent danger of setting me off again."
"A bit," she admitted. "But we still have to talk about stuff. You're long overdue on reports!" She smiled at the end and I couldn't help but grin. Maybe she wasn't a terrible person.
"If Kale can stay, ask me question's until your heart's content."
She smiled gratefully, and did just that. I explained, in truncated form, the story of my life. She probed a bit deeper here and there, but all in all she seemed quite content to just listen. Once I had finished my brief talk, she stood up and excused herself without any further questioning.
Once she left and I had fully reacquainted myself with Kale, we both came to realize that we had another looming problem; one that had been overlooked in all the drama of the last little while. We were stuck in some children's center with no apparent way out. It was the first time in over four years that Kale hadn't slept in a garage or under a hedge.
My return to the home was greeted with much avoidance. I had no real interest in these people, so the fact that they went out of their way to avoid me was fine by me. Kale and I spent most of our time together, making up for lost time. After another week of being there, I finally decided to broach the subject of our future.
"So," I started. "What are we going to do now?"
"What do you mean?" he replied.
"About getting out of here. Surely we can't just sit here and rot."
He paused for a moment to think and when he did speak, he sounded unusually tired. "I...don't know."
I mistook his weary voice for genuine fatigue, and so continued along my own line of thought.
"I don't think it would be that difficult to run away from here. I'm sure we could find our way back..."
"No," he said, cutting me off. I was surprised to say the least, but I let him speak.
"I can't do it anymore," he said, looking me in the eyes. The fire that I was accustomed to no longer seemed present in his vivid blue eyes. "You spent less than two years out there, and we were together almost the whole time. I've been living that life for over four years! I haven't been to school since I was 12 years old."
I was a bit shocked, but not really surprised. He seemed ready to continue, so I said nothing but I tried to let him know, with my soft smile, that I understood.
"When I first ran away there were 12 of us living in that neighborhood. Me and Lucky are the only ones still alive. And Lucky isn't called Lucky for no reason. I just don't think I have it in me anymore."
We trained ourselves to be hard, and tough and it surprised me when Kale's eyes became teary. I embraced him in a big hug and told him that I would support whatever decision that he made.
"Come with me," he said at last. He stood up and grabbed my hand and started walking to one of the smaller buildings on the grounds. He seemed agitated as we walked, but I didn't have to wait long to find out why.
"Fyr...I haven't been completely honest with you," he said slowly, stopping.
"About what?" I asked warily. I wasn't sure I really wanted to know, at this point.
"About why I lived on the streets. I'm sorry I had to lie to you, but I'm not sorry for lying. I never even told Lucky the truth." He seemed quite upset, and his usual façade of composure was gone. I wasn't really upset. I didn't have a right to know everything about him and if he hadn't told Lucky, his best friend, then it wasn't a matter of trust. I waited for him to elaborate, but he just grabbed my hand and started walking again.
As we approached the building, I could feel him becoming tense. He squeezed by hand tightly and his breathing was accelerated. He opened the main door and strode purposefully down the hall. He stopped abruptly, took a deep breath and without a word to me opened the door.
"Fyr," he said as I stepped into the room. "Meet my family."
It took a moment for his words to register with me. Family. Family? Well, he certainly hadn't been completely honest. He had never spoken at length about why he was on the streets - and now I knew part of the reason, at least - but from what I had believed, his family had kicked him out because he was gay.
"Um, hi," I finally croaked, uncertain of what to do. The family before me was so...normal. A mother and father, in their early forties stood behind a plain looking girl or perhaps 19 and two younger boys. One was the spitting image of Kale - his twin, it seemed - but it was the other one, maybe 14, who really intrigued me. He had a familiar quality about him that I couldn't quite put my finger on.
Apparently I wasn't the only uncertain one, because there was no tearful reunion and almost no words. I stood in silence while Kale awkwardly tried to reintroduce himself to his family. His mother finally hugged him and I heard him mumble a brief apology. As expected, apologies weren't what they wanted, they were just glad to have their son back. I silently mused about how they possibly thought they knew him, but I was drawn back to reality as I heard the youngest boy speak.
"Kale, how could you just leave like that?" he sounded angry, and hurt and there was more than a hint of accusation in his voice. He would have only been 10 at the time Kale left, and I found myself strangely empathizing with him.
"Josh," scolded his mother gently.
"No," he said, raising his voice slightly. "It's not fair that he can just..."
"Your eyes," I said, half-consciously, cutting him off. He turned to glare at me but as he opened his mouth, I rode over him and kept speaking.
"Your eyes," I repeated. "You have your brother's eyes." It was true, even Kale's twin didn't have the same piercing gaze as Josh.
"I always loved his eyes," I continued. "If you turn out to be half the person -half the friend - that he is, consider yourself lucky."
My words had the desired effect; Kale beamed at me and Josh shut his mouth to ponder what I had said. I felt somewhat awkward being here for this moment, so I excused myself from the room. Kale tried to protest, but I could tell his parents were grateful.
I left the room with no real idea where I was walking. I was so full of conflicting feelings that I needed to just sit down and think. I wanted what was best for Kale, but I wasn't sure that going back to his 'family' was the best option for him. I was also unsure about my own future and my thoughts kept drifting back to the idea of running away again.
I still hadn't reached the point where life on the streets had become a mere existence but I did empathize with Kale. It was a hard life and, for all I hated it, I must admit that it was nice not having to worry about everything. Whenever I though about where my life was going, my thoughts inevitably turned to running away. I had never even really entertained a different idea, so when Dr. Green found me to inform that there was a family here to meet with me, I was a little stunned. I had developed a certain fondness for Dr. Green and I begrudgingly followed her up to the main building. I could always just be rude to the family, after all.
I stepped cautiously into the small office and heard the door click behind me. I was all alone and I took a moment to assess the situation before taking a seat. The couple in front of me were in their mid to late thirties, I would guess, and had a very down-to-earth feel about them. The man, classically handsome with unkempt hair, was dressed in khaki pants and a well-worn golf shirt. The woman, quite plain with braided hair, looked like an artist, to me. She wore a plain black t-shirt that was snug against her slim frame and some ordinary, ripped jeans. Her shoes, however, were falling apart and spattered with several different colors of paint. I wasn't really in a position to judge anyone; my own emaciated frame was draped with used clothing several sizes to big for me.
"Hello," I said, my tone neutral.
"Hello Jacob," said the man. "My name is Dave, and this is my partner Caroline."
"It's Fyr, please."
"Pardon?" he asked.
"My name," I answered. "It's Fyr. I haven't gone by Jacob in over a year."
"Er, ok. So Fyr, do you know why we're hear."
Not a good start.
"I have no idea," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm and disdain.
"Right, sorry. I deal with a lot of kids; sometimes I forget what age I'm dealing with."
I was feeling generous, and I decided to give him another chance.
"What do you do," I asked politely.
"I run a safe homes program for LGBT youth who've had difficult lives. My last foster child just went off to college - at Yale, actually - so I'm looking for another."
"Well I certainly fit the criteria," I smiled. "But I can't decide right now."
"We don't want you to decide right now; we just wanted to meet with you," Caroline said, speaking for the first time. I nodded and we had a short talk. It was rather awkward, but I did my best to be civil and talk about things that were fairly harmless. I didn't intend to ever go home with them, and I thought it better to avoid serious topics.
After about a quarter of an hour, Dave announced that they had to leave. He promised that they would come back to visit again, and received a noncommittal goodbye from me. I was getting anxious to talk to Kale and I was glad when Dr. Green let me go without any questions. I walked into the building where I had left Kale and immediately heard shouting.
"NO!" This was from Kale, if I wasn't mistaken.
"What? They are your family, Kale." I didn't recognize the voice and assumed it belonged to a social worker.
"Were my family," he corrected. I felt a bit bad, but I couldn't help standing by the door listening in.
"Kale, please. Just give us a chance," pleaded a female voice, likely belonging to his mother.
"I...can't," said Kale in a much softer voice. "It has been so long. Too much has happened. I'm not the same person I was when I left. I just can't go back." He was almost whispering by the time he finished. I certainly could empathize with what he was feeling and I decided he needed moral support. I gently pushed open the door and went to put my arm around his shoulder.
"Fyr!" he suddenly said, more to himself than to anybody else.
"I'll go...home... with you, if Fyr can come as well," he pronounced happily. He might have thought it a good idea, but I wasn't so sure.
"Kale," I said to him at the same time I heard his father say: "Okay."
My head snapped up to look at him and I could see Kale's smile broaden until it nearly split his face in two.
"Welcome to the family," said his mother with a smile. I wasn't sure if it was forced, but I was too overwhelmed to care.
Comments, criticisms and suggestions are all very welcome. I write because I enjoy it, but I post them here for you so please let me know what you think of the story.
Menzoberranzen_of_the_drow@yahoo.com
~Menzo