Title: Against the Elements

Author: DragonSapphire

Rating: R

Disclaimer: All characters are property of me. Do not use without my permission.

Summary: Human embodiments of the elements fight against a force determined to destroy them and all human kind.

Warnings: Slight profanity, violence, sex, and slash. If you are underage, are uncomfortable with any of these subjects, or just not a fan of m/m relationships, please do not continue. This story is slightly AU - just warning you in advance.

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A/N: Many thanks for my dearest muse (you know who you are!) - without you I'd never have made it as far as I did.

This is dedicated to her.

~`*`~

*Present time*

Sunlight shone through the open curtains to settle on a gruff sleeping face, though the light seemed to rebound off the bronzed skin and it eerily remained enshrouded in shadow. The person groaned irately as the persistent light still managed to pierce his eyelids, throwing an arm over his face and cursing the bright, cheery morning for stealing him away from his delightfully morbid dreams.

The man's arm flopped against the mattress as he resigned himself to actually getting up before midday for once. He glanced at the still slumbering figure next to him buried beneath a mound of pillows and blanket, protected against the spiteful rays of the sun.

"Get up, brat. I'm taking you home so I can get some damn work done for once." The small blonde just curled up into the warm covers, reluctant to leave the comfortable nest he'd made.

"Mmmm...." the figure appeared to be a young boy, pretty enough to easily be mistaken as a girl. He blinked as he peered blearily up at his dark lover with large, sleepy blue eyes.

The tall man grimaced at the painfully endearing expression and turned away with a gruff "Get a move on".

Trebic smiled softly and combed small, delicate fingers through his fine blonde hair as he shifted to sit upright in the sizable bed that he could easily lose himself in. He watched the other man move agilely around the disaster area he called an apartment until he found a pair of tight, acid- washed jeans and pulled them up to hang low on his slender hips, not bothering to zip them. Trebic's sweet expression altered to become slightly coy when a dark-eyed glare was leveled at him for still having yet to get out of bed.

"I'm coming, I'm coming...." the angelic boy murmured as he slipped reluctantly from the comfortable, king-sized bed. He tugged a black satin sheet around his petite, naked body, holding it closed with one hand while he retrieved his scattered clothing from the floor with the other.

"You can take a shower or whatever at your place. I'm not waiting up for you," the man called to Trebic from the bathroom. His voice was muffled slightly from what could have been a toothbrush. "Yes, Nyvio. I know."

They had gone through this routine countless times before, and Trebic had become accustomed to the other's often volatile mannerisms. He knew their relationship was far from what one would consider ordinary, but that was to be expected when you weren't human.

Trebic had always been alone for as long as he could remember. That lasted until around three years ago, he had met a sweet young man by the name of Brhyn, and they instantly became close friends - almost like brothers. He could sense a similar kindred spirit in Brhyn and eventually ended up living with his Native American and Irish mixed companion along with his exotic, but equally pleasant lover as a part of their unconventional family.

He'd stumbled across Nyvio a couple years later one night in an old theatre district. He had been restless and unable to sleep, deciding to take a walk and let his feet lead him with no set destination in mind. He knew that a seemingly young, porcelain-like boy such as himself had no place in an area like that unless they were homeless or a prostitute, if not both. But he had lived long enough to know what shadows to avoid and which to use as a cover to slip from belligerent eyes.

Trebic had been strolling past an abandoned warehouse when out of nowhere, a person came barreling towards him with such a look of stark terror in their eyes, the young boy nearly turned and ran with the man from whatever had frightened him so. However, he felt a strong urge to go in the direction where danger seemed imminent, and once again, let his feet and heart guide him.

~`*`~

*Flashback*

There were several large, burly men surrounding one slender man inside a large, old building that looked as if it could have been a manufactory at one point. All the windows were shattered from children pelting rocks at the rundown factory in a display of adolescent prowess to prove their fearlessness of regulation to their friends, and then fleeing with the rest of them when an authority figure passed by. The cold cement floor was littered with accumulated filth, broken glass, and rodent droppings, the rest of the structure not fairing in any better condition.

The lone man that stood in the center of the debris appeared unarmed, although his cocky expression was reflected in the sharp metal of assorted weapons displayed threateningly by the twenty or so men that surrounded him. Long hair that appeared black in the moonlit area was pulled away from his strong-featured face, half of it tied back and the rest left to flow freely past his broad shoulders. He wore tight leather pants and a silk crimson shirt which was left open, displaying the olive-brown tones of his chiseled torso and chest. A dark green vest lined with blue was thrown haphazardly over the shirt and a plain silver chain with a dogtag dangled from his neck.

He scratched his goatee idly with one hand as he observed the others with cold eyes that reflected no light. A man with blonde, spiked hair and a wicked looking knife advanced on him menacingly, but he still remained outwardly unconcerned. Inside, however, his mind frothed with rage, hatred, and pleasure at the knowledge blood was going to be spilled that night.

He waited until the man in front of him pressed the sharp edge of his weapon against the exposed flesh of his neck, pricking the skin and giving the knife a small taste of blood. The dark-haired man moved forward until the knife cut deeply into his throat, hot blood pouring down his chest as his mouth widened in a malicious grin.

The blonde jerked away with disbelieving fascination. He glanced sideways at the other men; they either watching him or the now heavily bleeding man before him in bewilderment. He chuckled nervously and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.

"Heh. Guess I don't need to off 'em after all - he'll take care o' that himself, crazy bastard." He backed away surreptitiously, his green-flaked eyes unable to leave the unnerving image the bright red liquid and disturbingly twisted smile made.

The dark-haired man tilted his head to the side, his narrow eyes locked on something behind the other man.

"Leaving already? Too bad. I was just beginning to have fun."

The blonde man couldn't have missed the decidedly evil gleam in those shadowed eyes even if he were blind. The uneasy feeling that was beginning to assert itself in his gut only intensified when he backed into something smooth and solid, his comrades' sharp intakes of air not at all reassuring.

He felt something slither around his waist, locking his body firmly against the form, and his throat was lightly caressed by an oddly cool object he couldn't see or identify. Whatever was being held at his jugular was sharp - very sharp - he learned quickly when he tried to move and was sliced deeply. The edge of the foreign object was so defined it took a few seconds for the man to register that he'd been cut at all.

He could hear the uneasy shuffles of the other men - as if they didn't know whether to attack or run. He growled in agitation. The other man was watching him with raven eyes, seemingly unaffected by the sudden reversal of control.

The blonde figured the other man had accomplices - it was stupid for them to have thought he'd be alone and unarmed, even though their source assured them he wouldn't. He tried to swallow to ease his parched mouth, only to have his neck pricked forbiddingly, and forced to hold the spit at the back of his throat lest it escape through a new and painful opening.

The crimson drenched man (he should have passed out from blood loss by now!) swaggered towards him unerringly, his face virtually relaxed and carefree as he reached out a hand and almost lovingly stroked the base of the blonde's throat.

The trapped man's muscled constricted fearfully when the other touched him - the man just seemed to radiate *wrongness*. Fingers drew back from his flesh, the tips stained with red liquid and were brought to the wide mouth, a ruby hued tongue darting out to lick the wetness from the digits.

The man made a faint growl of disgust and spat out the bitter blood, leaving specks of pinkish moisture on the other's cheek. He snatched the man's chin with one hand, digging his blunt nails into the sweaty skin and lowering his face until the other had no choice but to look him in his less- than-sane eyes.

"You are already tainted. What a shame," the dark man ran his tongue slowly along the side of the other's face, sampling the tell-tale fear the man's body excreted through his pores. "I would have enjoyed taking your innocence myself."

He stepped away and just when the blonde thought to take a breath of relief, his head toppled from his shoulders followed by a heavy gush of dark red blood. It was sliced so swiftly and cleanly that the impulses in the dead, but not yet registered, brain gave one last order to the sheer skin over the blonde's wide hazel eyes to blink, eternally etching the last vision of death behind the filmy orbs.

What preceded that action was an intricate and ruthless dance with evil that a rare few humans experienced - it was something not meant to be released on mortal soil - saved for the deepest and most wicked bowels of the underworld.

The cold and unfeeling cement was painted with scalding lifeblood and screams so tormented that it should not have been able to have been ripped forth from human throats as bodies and limbs were flung and decorated across its hard surface.

~`*`~ From a skylight hollowed years ago from hailing debris and stone, a small figure perched, watching the massacre below him with a heavy heart as those he tried so hard to save were felled not by the living shadows manifested into lethal and precise executioners, but by their own blackened hearts that not even he could salvage.

~`*`~

Nyvio stood observing his work with dark, appraising eyes, and smirked when he heard the silent footsteps that were coming up behind him. //Guess I missed one.//

He flexed the fingers of his right hand, feeling the familiar shadows slide along his arm to form claw-like extensions that were sharper than any existing human concocted metal. The person stopped a few feet from him, and he could hear the soft even breaths the other took, not at all accelerated in fear or nervousness. Imbecile.

Nyvio turned with exaggerated slowness, his face belying none of the exhaustion that was beginning to creep upon his consciousness. Normally sustaining many of his shadow creations for an extended period of time took little effort on his part, but lately he'd been forced to summon them far more often then usual and the lethal creations were beginning to take a toll on him. Also, the mental effort it required to keep them from warping his already twisted brain was beating at his senses and he was more testy than usual.

Although it had felt irrefutably good to release some of his built up tension on several lowlifes that had been rubbing him the wrong way for a while now. As he fully came around to face the person, he couldn't help but start slightly at what he saw.

It was just a kid.

He fairly growled as his shadows retreated reluctantly back to wherever they had come from, his momentary elation at finishing off another victim fleeing with them. The kid remained silent, his large blue eyes fixated on Nyvio.

The taller of the two glared the other, suddenly realizing how grimy he felt when he glanced down at the boy's - at least he was pretty sure it was a boy - immaculate appearance. Nyvio ran a hand through his disheveled hair, grimacing when his bloodstained hands left his already filthy locks sticky and in clumps. It was instances like these that severely tempted him to coerce his shadow beings into the shape of a machete and hack the useless length off.

He curbed the impulse and turned away, automatically working around the chunks of bloody flesh and bone that littered the ground, occasionally kicking a decapitated head or limb out of his way with his soaked boots.

"Wait! I need to heal you before you bleed to death."

If Nyvio had thought the offer strange it didn't show on his face. He didn't stop, although he slowed his pace unconsciously anyway at the quiet tone of the insistent but gentle voice. //So it speaks....//

"I've lost more blood than this before and it didn't kill me. I don't see why it should start now," Nyvio sneered sarcastically.

He watched the cherubic face fall in concern from the corner of his eye and cursed under his breath as he turned back to the androgynous youth. "Damnit. Make it quick, kid."

He tried to ignore how the boy's face lit up with relief and waited with impatience as he approached the dark man quickly and with graceful steps that the gore on the ground didn't deter. The blonde didn't hesitate once he stood before Nyvio, and stretched upwards to lightly touch the bleeding gash. Nyvio couldn't help but notice how good the blonde's small, soft hands felt pressed gently over the stinging wound on his neck. Blood coated the pale hands, the red vibrant against his white skin.

"Please don't move. This may tickle a bit...." Tickle wasn't quite the word for it.

Nyvio involuntarily jerked as a tingling, warm sensation flowed from where the other's skin connected with his, and spread throughout his body.

A deceptionally strong hold held him in place and prevented him from pulling away as a wave of pure energy healed and knitted the torn and bloody flesh. It was a strange feeling, but not completely unpleasant. At least until the man felt something probing at the back of his mind.

He pushed the boy away none too gently and growled, "Stay the hell outta my head."

The boy opened his small, rosebud mouth to voice a protest, but flinched and lowered his oddly clean hands when the other shot a spiteful glare at him.

Nyvio briefly fingered the area where he had been slashed, or rather inflicted on himself, finding the wound much smaller and only trickling an insubstantial amount of blood. He didn't want the kid to touch him like that again, and another little scar was no big deal - it'd heal in its own in time.

While he was inspecting the partially healed cut, he took a second to give the small boy a glance-over. The kid couldn't have been older than thirteen, fourteen at most, but something in his deep blue eyes hinted at an age unfathomable to even one such as he who had lived for over two and a half millennia.

His white and pale blue outfit was ridiculous in this kind of neighborhood, and in this sort of weather. It exposed his radiant, fair skin far more than what seemed practical, but the boy didn't seem to notice or care. His fine blonde hair was pulled up into a high ponytail at the back of his head and long bangs curtained both sides of his face depending on how he shifted his head.

Overall, the boy was pretty - beautiful even - but Nyvio couldn't help but be disturbed slightly. The kid had to have seen what he'd done to those men back there, and yet he'd walked calmly up to the tall, dark figure without fear and healed him. Healed him! He didn't know if the blonde had a death wish, but his guess was as good as any.

Trebic stood silently under the man's somewhat bemused scrutiny of him. He knew the other was dangerous - he could feel the darkness within him even without searching for it . But he also sensed a spark of something worth salvaging determinedly fighting against it.

It would have seemed logical at first that the highly unstable man in front of him would be the last person he would even bother with the effort, seeing for himself the evil and efficient brutality the other was capable of. However, out of all the men that had been gathered there that night, the one left standing was the one he felt most able to be redeemed, but he would by far be the most difficult task the boy had ever took on.

For a second, Trebic had probed the surface of the man's mind before he was brutally reflected and tossed out. But he was there long enough to sense that he didn't have much time.

There was anger, always anger. Trebic knew without a doubt that a lesser man without the restraint the shadow user had forced onto himself would have already broken under the strain and became a heartless, unstoppable killer. Perhaps even the embodiment of evil itself.

But there *was* hope for this one. There had to be....

Nyvio growled to himself when they both fell silent. There was something about the kid that tugged at his interest no matter how much the other rubbed him the wrong way. It was something he hadn't felt since a lover he had, and broken beautifully, centuries ago.

While his brain was reminiscing, his mouth was moving without him realizing it, and when it finally registered to as what he was saying, he nearly summoned a shadow to slice his traitorous tongue off.

The blonde's face seemed to glow in the moonlight as a small smile tickled at his lips. "Yes."

Nyvio would have taken back what he said in an instant, but the look on the boy's face and that faint but distinct urging at the back of his head - the one that wasn't commandeering the kid's slow and painful death - held his tongue at bay.

//Great. Just what I need. Babysitting some creepy little kid because parts of my body decide conspire to make my life hell. If it wasn't enough all ready....//

Nyvio growled out loud and snapped, "Get a move on then. Unless you like dead people?"

The boy gave him an adorable smile and ducked his head slightly. "....Of course not."

Nyvio roughly swept a hand through his unkempt hair and spun on his heels, crushing a white finger bone in the process, but feeling a perverse satisfaction at the sickening 'crunch' it made.

Trebic paused for a moment and glanced back at the carnage with anguished sapphire eyes before forcing himself to focus on the living and followed the tall man out into the cold night.

~`*`~

Dark tendrils crept along the walls and across the floor, condensing in the middle of the area, surrounded by fresh death. The form they shaped appeared to be a large, four-legged beast, its fur blacker than the shadows and eyes glinting silver as a long tongue ran across vicious fangs.

"Well done. I'm not disappointed...."

Deep, inhuman laughter permeated the warehouse, infinitely more disturbing than the sight of the gory human remains, saturated in foreboding darkness.

~`*`~