:: Key Sacrifice ::

By D-chan

Chapter Nine: Broken

It wasn't as bad as he'd feared it would be. With some help from Delos beforehand, Soren found a way to give his parents only the most needed details: Aria had spread an uncomfortable rumor about him, told him she had done it, and he'd exploded. His mother was shocked and dismayed, while his stepfather had calmly told him to go to bed without eating. The next morning before his parents went to work and his mother took Rashel to school, he was told he had a six o'clock curfew for the next month and couldn't have friends over.

"Except for Delos," his mother had said quickly, noting the flare in her son's eyes. "And only for the tutoring sessions. And no more of the weekend sessions this month; Lord knows the poor girl needs a break." Soren nearly fell off the bed at the last sentence.

It was a boring week, to say the least. Soren was also restricted from watching television until someone else came home. Perhaps any other child would have dared to turn it on, but Soren was uneasy with the idea, not only because it would fill him with guilt, but also because his parents tended to come home at random times. Especially his mother; she was always forgetting something at home.

He had ten school days of suspension, two full weeks, and Soren wasn't looking forward to it. The first day was all right; he played basketball outside for a while, but it wasn't one of his tutoring days. He was looking forward to Delos coming over the next day.

"Mama," he asked groggily that morning. "What time is Delos comin' over today?"

She threw him a hurried glance over her shoulder. "Oh, that's right, Delos called last night to cancel. Something about important business-- Rashel! Hurry up and put on your shoes already!"

Too tired to fully comprehend her words, Soren went right back to sleep.

Cold chills kept washing over him, making him shake with sheer nervousness. Constantly he kept reaching for a cigarette pack that wasn't there, and constantly he would curse and bite his lip to distract himself. He could barely keep hold of the steering wheel and was already regretting turning down Thanatos' offer to give him a ride.

Going back there all the time was so... nerve-racking, especially since he hadn't been there in nearly two weeks. If Raksha wasn't tied down, it was very likely Delos was going to die.

He hated that place. He hated visiting someone he didn't want to know anymore. But Delos realized that if he just tried to push the man out of his life, Raksha would only hunt him down somehow sooner or later. Better to keep him pacified while he could. Even leaving the state wasn't a good idea-- especially not now.

Delos could have screamed in sheer frustration.

It was Friday, and he knew he had tutoring with Soren on Fridays. The previous lesson had been cancelled due to Soren's getting suspended, and today... today Delos had to get this out of the way, otherwise it would continue plaguing his mind and Soren would somehow notice, inevitably getting involved.

"Shit," Delos swore, glaring at the too-bright-and-sunny weather. Why did it have to look so cheerful today?

By the time he reached the building, the shaking in his hands had calmed to gentle tremors. Delos had to sit in his car taking deep breaths to calm himself before he finally worked up the nerve just to open the car door and get out.

Once inside the doors, everything proceeded as it always did. Delos dimly remembered being greeted by a sharp-looking woman in a business suit, being lead down the hallways, words floating back toward him as she chattered about something or another, but nothing fully registered to his brain until he caught sight of dark hair and a single violet eye.

It was alarming but not surprising to see he was still bound tightly in a pristine white straight jacket. Delos nodded absently when the woman said she would be leaving, knowing that she would really be waiting outside in case something dangerous happened. Sure, one of them was bound in a straight jacket, but knowing him...

From behind the prison-like bars, Raksha smiled. "Hello there."

Delos said nothing.

"It's been a while, you know," Raksha went on, his voice eerily smooth and calm for someone pronounced clinically insane. "They don't want to tell me the time here, but there's a nice lady who keeps me up to date. Really, it's like they're trying to make me crazier than I already am. Do you know how late you are, Delos?"

At last, the brunette managed to loosen his throat muscles enough to speak. "A few days."

"Exactly six," the older man corrected him. "And you still have to come back tomorrow. You've completely thrown me off, you know." Delos winced, and he laughed. "But it's all right. I understand-- your job, right? You mentioned a job last time you came."

So he had. Delos couldn't remember which one he'd told his former lover about. "Yeah."

Raksha nodded, rocking back and forth, as that was about all he could do aside from move his legs in his confinements. "I hate kids," he said. "Don't see how you could put up with the little bastards."

"They're okay," Delos said quietly.

Raksha snorted. "I'm sure." Then he smirked. "Had any lovers since me?"

Delos paled, taking a step back, but managed to make his voice firm as he spoke. "The answer's the same as always. No, I haven't."

Sighing, Raksha said, "You know I won't mind if you do. I know what it's like to put up with sexual frustration so long... haven't gotten any in weeks now. And you've gone longer?" He shook his head, seeming to be in awe of the idea. "I don't know how you do it."

"I'm pretty amazing," Delos muttered.

"Mm... I know." Alarmed, Delos' head shot up in time to catch the other man licking his lips, flashing his teeth in a wicked grin. "Really amazing, especially in bed. It was great, that first time, when we were both virgins... well, you were. I was mostly one. I almost fucked that one girl in our class, you know, that snotty little redhead, but shit happens..."

Raksha insisted on having conversations like this every time Delos went in, conversations that held no humor and only malice.

The sudden sound of Delos' cell phone ringing startled them both. He automatically reached for it, hesitating when he caught the suspicious look from his ex-lover. Without giving it a second thought, Delos turned it off without checking to see who it was. Any distractions angered Raksha, and the very last thing Delos needed was for him to get angry over something as trivial as a phone call.

Cocking his head to the side, Raksha smirked. "You really should go screw a whore or something, you know."

"I know."

The laughter that followed was short, almost vicious. Raksha narrowed his eyes behind his smile. "Of course, if you do find another lover, I'll have to set some ground rules."

"I already know your ground rules," Delos said tightly. "What makes you think I'll follow them?"

Raksha ignored him. "First off, no men. That's not fair to me, you know." He paused as though pondering, though Delos knew it was only to give a show, to make Delos even more tense. "Second, any woman is fine-- well, no. Not any woman. Dominatrixes aren't for you. Find yourself a shy, sweet, obedient little schoolgirl. The kind that gets scared easily. Then if anything bad happens, you can threaten her and she'll keep her damn mouth shut." The mention of a schoolgirl briefly reminded Delos of Melissa Denton.

"Then again, no schoolgirls," Raksha went on. "You could get arrested for that." Delos fought another wince, this time reminded of Soren. Oh, God, the last thing he needed was for Raksha to find out about Soren. "So just find an older woman-- not too old, though. When they're too old, their tits start sagging, you know."

How the hell had he ever ended up going out with this guy? Delos' hand automatically went to his face, a childish gesture of trying to shield his eyes.

"Ohh, you know what'd be fun?" Delos reluctantly looked up. "Grab a girl, fuck her, and call out my name." Raksha broke off into laughter. "That'd be so great! Bet you would, since you haven't had any practice calling other names." The dark-haired man leaned forward as much as he could, a wicked glint in his eye. "And you looked so great, calling out my name," he continued in a lower voice. "Especially when I was on top, with you sprawled out beneath me, squirming and begging for me--"

"Shut up!"

Delos regretted the outburst instantly, not because he felt bad, but because the malicious humor left Raksha's expression. Softly, he said, "That wasn't very nice of you, Delos."

The room was getting too hot, the air too thick. Delos ran a hand through his hair, trying to force himself to stop trembling. "Sorry," he managed to work out. "I'm sorry."

He'd been there too long as it was. Perhaps only ten minutes had passed, but if he stayed any longer he felt he would suffocate. The asylum wasn't just for crazy people, it was for people struggling with the borderline, and they were deliberately trying to shove him over the brink.

"I have to go," he gasped, well aware he was close to hyperventilating. "I'll come back tomorrow, I promise--" Breaking off, he whirled around, fumbling with the door and wrenching it open. Ignoring the startled call of the nurse behind him, Delos ran. He didn't stop until he had slammed the front door behind him, and then he collapsed against it, half sobbing as he tried to catch his breath.

On second thought, thank God Thanatos isn't here, he thought, wiping furiously at his eyes. Shit...

He reached into his back pocket, dismayed to find it empty. "Damn," he murmured. I know I promised Soren, but... but...

He finally got back to his feet, muttering, "Fuck this," as he walked a bit unsteadily to his car. It took three or four tries to get the key into the ignition. He felt surprisingly clear-headed as he pulled out of the parking lot, into the street, and drove down to the nearest drugstore.

A promise was a promise, but there were just some times the anxiety was too much to handle.

Thanatos didn't bother looking up when he heard the door shut with unnatural quiet. "Hey," he greeted as he moved from the stove to the nearest cabinet, opening it and searching its contents. "Any idea if we have vanilla extract?"

When no answer came, he gave up his search, closed the cabinet door, and looked to where Delos stood in the entryway, eyes blank as they gazed at the floor. The sight, though disturbing, wasn't unusual. Thanatos quickly turned off the stove; there wouldn't be any cooking tonight. Stepping closer, he recognized the heavy stench of tobacco. Thanatos would bet money that his roommate had spent a few hours sitting in his car out in the front parking garage, smoking until he'd been calm enough to get out and come inside.

Cautiously, so as not to alarm him, Thanatos placed his hand on Delos' shoulder. He gave the man a light shake. "Delos?"

Just like that, the false calm shattered around Delos, and he collapsed against his friend, trembling. "I... I..."

Thanatos quickly moved to support him, hand awkwardly but soothingly rubbing Delos' back. "Don't worry about it. It's okay."

"Shit..."

Thanatos smiled lightly. "Need help walking?"

"No," Delos muttered, but didn't move to support himself. "Maybe," he relented, one hand going to his face as his eyes closed. "Damn..."

In no time at all, Thanatos had helped his friend to his room. Once on his bed Delos seemed to regain some strength, enough to kick off his socks and shoes before collapsing against the covers.

"Take-out okay?" Thanatos asked from the doorway.

"Nothing Mexican or spicy," Delos muttered, sounding exhausted.

Nodding, Thanatos felt the atmosphere was light enough for a little teasing. "You just rest your pretty self here, then. I'll be back within an hour." When Delos' lips twitched into a semi-smile, relief washed over the older man. He paused in the kitchen to make a phone call before grabbing his keys and leaving.

It wasn't as bad as other fits, Thanatos noted as he pulled out of the parking garage. There had been times when Delos couldn't even make it through the front door; he would collapse outside, curled up defensively until Thanatos stepped out, came home, or someone else came along. Only a few neighbors knew about Delos' breakdowns, but they rarely asked questions. Those that did quickly learned they wouldn't get an answer, at least not one that they wanted. The typical answer from a broken Delos would be a sharp, "Fuck off." If they were lucky, Thanatos would answer instead with a simple, "Personal family problems; nothing too serious," answer.

One bright side was that so far none of Delos' other friends had ever learned about his breakdowns, or his past, or even his weekly visits to the institution. Thanatos had been friends with him longest, long before the incident three years ago.

Three years? he mused, pulling into the parking lot of a take-out restaurant. It doesn't sound or feel like a long time, but...

He stepped out of the car, striding into the restaurant. The smell of pepperoni and tomato sauce flooded his senses briefly; he smiled slightly and walked straight up to the front counter. No one was there; they must have run back for a moment. Glancing around, Thanatos noted that the dining area was fairly full. Fridays just seemed to be busy like that...

"Sorry about that," a familiar voice muttered, causing Thanatos to turn back around. "Anyway, welcome to Pizza Hoot, how--" The employee stopped in mid sentence, staring at the man in something akin to disbelief.

Thanatos blinked before a grin split his face. "Damien."

"Shit," Damien muttered.

"Nice hat."

The Goth glowered, and not without reason. He wore the same slacks and decent shirt that most employees there wore, black and white, with the restaurant's emblem on his left sleeve and front pocket. But what really made the outfit, to Thanatos, was the large hat of an owl's head on the top.

"Shut up," Damien hissed, the faintest tinge of red on his face. He seemed to be trying to recover his dignity. "Just tell me what you want so you can get it and go."

"I'm serious," the ebon-haired man insisted, eyeing the hat. "It's cool!"

Damien twitched. "Would you just tell me what you want?"

From the corner on his eye, Thanatos noted another employee frowning in Damien's direction. He grinned. "One medium pepperoni pizza, a twenty liter bottle of root beer, both for take-out..." He paused while his friend quickly tapped the order into the register and couldn't help grinning. "And your hat."

Damien looked up, snarling. "You know what--!"

"Damien!" the nearest coworker snapped. "Don't scare off the customers!"

Glaring back at her, Damien ground out, "But I know this one!"

"I really don't care," she shot back, giving Thanatos an apologetic look before a ready order was called out. Giving Damien one last dirty look, she went to retrieve and serve the pizza. Thanatos kept a brief eye on her; she was a young black woman that seemed to be around college age, and kind of cute from Thanatos' point of view. He made a mental note to ask Damien about her later.

He had nothing against Damien; he really didn't. The guy was fun to hang out with and Thanatos wasn't uncomfortable around him in the least. Not even knowing he had a more-than-friendly liking toward him made Thanatos uneasy or upset. It was more related to a personal problem in the past, and in a way he knew it was unfair to Damien to exclude all guys from his dating list...

After all, Thanatos knew he was attractive. How could everyone not want to at least give him a try? It was just that he didn't want to give anyone else a fair chance.

"Thanatos!"

Shaking himself from his musings, the gray-eyed man grinned. "Sorry. What?"

The Goth gave him a skeptical look but simply said, "The total is eighteen-sixty three." Nodding, Thanatos fished a twenty from his wallet and handed it over. As Damien handed him back the change and receipt, he leaned forward and said in a low voice, "Her name is Nyasha, she's twenty-one, and I think she's a real bitch, but you might like her. She usually gets off around nine in the evenings." With that he straightened up, saying in a calm, somewhat louder voice, "Your number's on the receipt; it'll be called when your order's ready."

Thanatos tried to hide his surprise at the information, but from the look on Damien's face he knew he wasn't entirely successful. He quickly smiled, thanked him, and backed up to sit on a somewhat tattered plush bench near the entrance. Had anyone else given him the information he would have been musing over Nyasha and how to ask her out, but he found he was more surprised over Damien's willingness to give it to him.

Well. Never let it be said he isn't selfless, he thought somewhat wryly, watching Damien trying to keep his patience in check as a customer argued with him over a supposedly wrongly charged order. It wasn't too surprising that the young man had a short temper; most people expected it from Goths or punks and the like. It was rather interesting how the fuse was made even shorter when it concerned Thanatos...

"Number thirty-six?"

Deliberately avoiding glancing golden eyes, Thanatos got up to take his order. He caught sight of the girl Damien had called Nyasha and briefly considered asking her there, but the feel of Damien's eyes burning a hole in his back made him toss that idea aside altogether. He was blunt, but not cruel.

"Later," Thanatos called over his shoulder, giving the Goth and grin and a wave. "And hey, next time you come over, bring the hat! Delos will love it, too."

Relieved to hear Damien's half-hearted cursing, Thanatos left.