A/N: This is me borrowing characters (with creators permission) from the story ‘Camp’ www. fictionpress. com/~vampireofshadows (take out the spaces) I don’t think you have to have read it to understand this mini-series, although it might make some things a little clearer *shrugs* but you should go read it anyways because I said so *grins* plus it’s good.

Ian didn’t recognise the place he was in, obviously it was a zoo, well an abandoned one, but he didn’t think that he had ever been there before. Surely he’d have remembered the compete lack of organisation to the layout, cages and enclosures that were seemingly randomly placed, no method to the madness.

He didn’t dare stray from the path, who knew what he might run into if he left the well worn walkway. So he kept on wandering blindly, not able to have a destination in mind, just hoping that he’d find his way out of the empty husk of a zoo.

‘What was that?’ he thought, certain that he had heard a noise, just at the edge of his hearing. ‘There it was again!’ It was almost like…muffled voices, yes, that was it. So of course Ian goes to investigate, curiosity overriding anything that might try to convince him that this wasn’t one of the better ideas. Besides maybe the people talking would be able to tell him where this place was, and how to get away from it. Or, for that matter, how he got there. All he could remember was walking amongst the cages. Weird.

He seemed to be getting closer to the voices, they seemed to be coming from, or very near to, one of the enclosures. Creeping forward, intrigued, he saw two figures, obviously a male and a female. Wait, there was a smaller one, curled up making himself as small as possible in the corner.

“You stupid bitch!” the man yelled, his harsh voice filling the otherwise still air, a voice that filled Ian with fear, and rendered him unmovable as the sound of flesh meeting flesh resounded through his head. It was an all too familiar scene from his childhood. He knew what would come next, and he felt a knot of dread forming in the pit of his stomach, rooted to the spot having to watch the play unfold before him as much as he wanted to run away and find comfort in being truly alone.

The man, his father, no, never that, turned to the young boy, a younger version of himself, an evil gleam in his eyes and Ian whimpered, screwing his eyes shut but he could still see it burned onto his eyelids. The man leaning in, intoxication obvious on his breath making Ian feel dizzy and nauseas. Then wandering hands, one pulling down the youth’s jeans the other creeping beneath the waistband of his boxers and another pair of trousers joined the discarded boys.

And screams, filling the air, his head and he could feel the salty liquid mark a pathway down his cheeks.

Then he managed to regain control of his body and he ran blindly not caring where he ended up so long as it wasn’t there. As he was running he noted more and more scenes playing out behind the barred spaces. And each of them seemed to be from times during his life, however none of them seemed to be happy times. ‘Did that mean that they weren’t any?’ he wondered sadly, his legs beginning to tire from the running.

His breath came in short gasps and Ian knew that he needed to rest but every free space seemed to be taken up by enclosures varying in size, but each one acting as a stage, performers shoving his life down his throat, all of the parts he would rather forget but couldn’t.

Giving up he sunk to the ground, drawing his knees up to his chest, head down, ebony hair falling in front of his face, sapphire eyes closed tight, trying to shut out the world. It worked to some extent, he couldn’t see the hell around him and he certainly didn’t hear the footsteps that were approaching him.

He did, however, feel the feather light touch on his arm, which he reacted to with a yelp, being taken by surprise at the action. His first thought was that his nightmares weren’t content with their confinement but instead sought to haunt him wherever he went, more so than they already were.

But as he fearfully looked up it wasn’t such a sight as met him. His eyes met bright, sparkling green and his own widened in surprise. This person couldn’t belong here, he wasn’t a part of his past, he had a feeling that this stranger, although something was familiar about him, would never hurt him. Ian felt himself begin to relax and the other hadn’t even said or done anything yet.

“Hey,” the blonde whispered, sitting down next to Ian and gently putting an arm around his shoulders, the black haired youth flinching at the contact, his wounds from the past still open and raw from the scenes he’d been forced to endure. He whimpered at the memory, willing himself not to cry in front of the gorgeous guy. Wait… did he just think that? Well it was true…

The other smiled sympathetically, as if he could sense Ian’s thoughts and maybe he could, the ebony haired boy wouldn’t rule anything out at this point. He noted that the arm was still draped around his shoulders and he couldn’t help but lean into the comforting presence. The hold tightened but in a way that was clearly intended to be protective, not harmful or destructive. The blonde knew that there had been too much pain in Ian’s life and he longed to ease it any way he could. So he sat with the other, lending his strength, aware of the fact that it wasn’t really such an odious task, in fact, in different circumstances he would have enjoyed it. Hell, he was enjoying it as it was.

Instinctively he pulled Ian closer, who responded by hooking an arm around the emerald eyed boy‘s waist, who seemed so familiar but the details were eluding him, and resting his head on the other’s chest, his right ear listening to the heartbeat below it. It was a lulling rhythm and Ian found himself drifting off, and not even worrying that something might prey on him whilst he slept. He trusted the blonde to watch over his dreams.

As his dream-self entered a deep dreamless sleep the ‘real’ Ian awoke from one that had clearly been eventful, and he shuddered at the memory of the beginnings of his nightmare. Lazily he opened his eyes to be greeted by the sleepy smile of Malik. In the instant that the dream was still fresh and vivid in his mind, yet he was still wakeful, Ian realised who had offered him a respite from the nightmare. Malik. Of course it was, he grasped, after all he was trying to offer the same comfort in the ‘real’ world.

The boy was touched, after all it had just occurred to him how much the other must care. Surely he did… right? He felt the stirrings of what he assumed were similar feelings of like well deep inside him. He returned the other’s sleepy smile, realising how cute Malik looked whilst sleep still stubbornly clung to him.

Speaking of clinging… Ian wrapped his arms around the blonde who blinked in surprise before returning the gesture.

Neither of them remembered who made the next move but it was clear *someone* had because they were sharing a morning kiss. At first it was chaste, but they were teenage males and so things didn’t stay that way for long. Ian applied pressure to Malik’s tongue as he explored the cavernous mouth. Malik was doing much the same, as his hand wandered downwards to the ebony haired boy’s ass. The contact in that area made him freeze and all too soon the moment was lost as the blonde realised that his hormones shouldn’t replace his brain’s thoughts.

There was an awkward silence, which Ian used to compose himself, then shot a smile at *his* angel, moving in for another kiss, hoping that Malik wouldn’t make the same mistake just yet. He wouldn’t. He understood that it would take time but he was more than prepared to take every effort just to be with *his* dark enigma.