Chapter Five- Breakfast With a Side of Insanity

Somehow the grin on Donovan Gleason’s face scared him more than anything ever had. Wicked and predatory, it was the simple arrangement of his facial features that said he had complete control over this whole situation- and relished it

Cody’s brain screamed for him to bolt- to grab something to use in defence- to do anything. But he just stood there, heart hammering so hard it was a burning sensation that curled up to the back of his neck, while the invader in his apartment stepped closer.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” The hoarse whisper warned. He was dressed in teal coloured hospital scrubs.

His voice snapped him out of the fear-laced trance he was in. “Get back.” He warned, stepping back despite his tone. He hit the back of the couch, out of space to retreat into. All he could think of was Rylan on the couch and how desperate he was not to wake the teen. That thought lead to a more disturbing one: how had Donovan known Rylan was on the couch?

The city lights peered through the blinds of the living room window, chasing away the half-shadows on Van’s face. He wasn’t smiling anymore. “You’re going to wake him up and then who knows what will happen.”

Cody bristled, protective instinct mixed with adrenaline trumping the fear he felt. “Get out and nothing is going to happen.” His fingertips brushed the material of the couch while his mind raced for a solution. Bogged down with the last dregs of intoxication in his system, nothing was quite making sense.

“Such hostility.” He tutted, “I have a proposition for you.”

“And I’ve got one for you- get out and I’ll pretend this never happened, not call the cops on you, and let you go on your merry way.” Cody said quickly, trying to get across that he was only on the defence.

A couple notes of a chuckle were the only noise in the quiet, dark apartment. “Perhaps you don’t understand. By ‘proposition’ I mean ‘you do what I say and you don’t get hurt’.”

Cody found his throat dry. He was supposed to be trained to negotiate for answers in a controlled environment- not in his own apartment, worried about the lives of his brother and his own.

“Now, let’s sit down and talk about this.” He said lightly, “Or, if you prefer, you can try to do something stupid, I can pin you against the floor, and we can talk about it like that.”

A light-headed rush shoved at his level of consciousness.

“You look like you need to sit down anyway.” The grin slid back onto his lips- more of a snarl than a smile. “I like the outfit, by the way.”

Cody gave his head a shake in attempt to clear it. As if he was in his apartment- it was so surreal. Cooperating seemed like the best tactic until he could think of something better so he moved carefully to the kitchen table. He kept his eyes on Van the whole time, warning him silently to keep away from the couch.

Relaxed to the point of arrogance, his unwanted guest flopped down into a chair across the table. “Let’s get your issues out of the way first, shall we?” He leaned back against the chair.

“What?” Cody demanded, confused. He remembered he was supposed to be keeping his voice quiet and shot a fearful look at the couch. Rylan hadn’t moved. He prayed he hadn’t misread sleep for having been knocked into unconsciousness- or worse, dead.

“You keep looking towards the kid on the couch- your brother?”

Afraid the man across from him was going to launch himself across the table and attack at any moment, Cody eyed him warily. “Yes.” He didn’t see how it would benefit him to lie.

“And you’re worried I’ve done something to him.” Van looked bored, rocking the chair back on two legs but stopping almost immediately with a wince. “He’s fine. The television went off around one this morning and, as far as I guess, he fell asleep then.”

It was chilling to hear him explain the evening’s events like that. Where had he been hiding to know those things? In his apartment? Desperate to get the topic off his little brother, Cody blurted out, “How did you find me?”

Van paused, looking unsettled by the interruption. “You told me everything I needed to know.” His blue eye was fixed on Cody. The socket where his right eye used to be looked wet and unhealthy.

“I didn’t tell you anything.” Cody muttered.

Van’s eyebrows rose slowly, in disbelief. “’Two hundred kilometres west’ is a pretty direct point at a local phone book. You said you’ve lived in the area for a year so you’re listed. ‘Cody Howards’ isn’t that difficult to look up, it just takes time. Besides, I was already in the area so I thought I’d drop by.” He grinned like it was joke.

Cody felt sick. Hadn’t Dr. Yves warned him not to give out any inside information? He was dealing with a psychopath here. Cody only prayed he would leave Rylan alone.

“Getting to the point, however,” Van said conversationally, as if they were catching up on light gossip over a cup of coffee, “I need a place to stay.” He held up his hand for silence before Cody could interrupt, “Now, I could just kill you and take over your apartment, but that wouldn’t be a great way to say thanks for taking me out of that place.” His face twitched involuntarily, making him look unhinged. “So, this is what we’re going to do. You’re not going to make a fuss and I’m not going to kill you. Deal?”

Cody swallowed hard. “I don’t have any other choice.”

“Sure you do. You can chose not to put up with me and I can put you out of your misery.” Van glanced towards the couch, “But I’m sure that wouldn’t go over well with your young sibling and I tend to lose a notch of composure when faced with hysterical people.” It was a not so subtle threat.

Dazed, Cody pushed the chair back, getting to his feet. He felt in shock and dizzy- sick from the alcohol sitting in his upset stomach. On his feet, that frightening blue eye following his every movement, his stomach lurched. He moved for the kitchen sink, which, happened to be in the direction of the door.

Cody emptied the meagre contents of his stomach into the stainless steel sink, fingers digging into the counter. He noted Van was standing just outside his peripheral vision. He hadn’t heard him move from the table, but now he was standing there beside him. He leaned his forehead against the cool metal of the sink rim, trembling and sucking in air in gasps. The sickening taste of bile sat on his tongue and burned his nasal passage.

The sound of the fridge opening caused him to do little more than try to glance over without moving. A pop can fizzled and snapped as it was opened.

“Too much excitement coupled with alcohol makes the stomach protest. Drink this.” A can of ginger ale was set down beside the sink. “Ginger calms the irritation- its what’s in pills for nausea and car sickness.”

A regular wikipedia, was he? Cody tried to ignore him but the drink was tempting. Throwing caution to the wind and not caring if the damn drink was laced, he wrapped his fingers around the cool, condensation-wet can and lifted it to his lips. It was cool and soothing indeed despite the other’s gaze on him the whole time.

Cody set the drink down and lay his fingers against the counter to steady himself. He felt weak and shaky. He had drank a lot, but he couldn’t have drank this much.

“Careful.” He sounded amused, “I thought you’d pass out on your own but I brought a back up just in case. They were going to sedate me further at the hospital, but they hadn’t taken into account the tolerance I’ve built up for sedatives over five years in that hell hole. They pumped me so full of that shit its amazing it affects me at all anymore.”

“You’d think they would at least send the nurses in pairs to deal with dangerous criminals,” He continued, putting special emphasis on the last two words, “but they didn’t. It was easy as helping myself to a free needle and just walking out of that place. No one ever seems to ask questions when you escape at a leisurely pace.” He chuckled and produced a slender, capped needle from the single pocket on the front of the scrubs shirt.

Cody’s adrenaline went into overdrive and he shoved away from the counter. He didn’t get more than a step or two before a deceptively wasted arm caught him around the middle and held him.

“Don’t make so much noise,” Van murmured in his ear, his arm squeezed with strength Cody wouldn’t have through possible. He could feel the warmth of the body behind him and it made him frantic to escape. “You don’t want to wake your brother up. I’d hate to have to deal with a young kid like that.”

Breathing so fast it was to the point of hyperventilation, Cody halted his escape attempts. “Don’t,” He pleaded. The man could be lying- he didn’t know what was in that needle. “Don’t- I’ll do whatever.” He tried to pry at the arm under his ribs but it squeezed tighter and made him gasp.

Van uncapped the needle with his teeth, spitting the plastic cover onto the counter. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, it’s just your everyday, mild sedative. You’re too hyped up to pass out by yourself, so I’ll give you a little help.” He pushed Cody forward, suddenly, bending him over the kitchen island counter.

Cody choked, feeling nauseous as the counter rim bit into his stomach. A hand was splayed on his back, just below his neck, keeping him down. His arm was jerked back and pinned in a police hold.

He must have made a noise because Van shushed him, “Don’t wake him up.” The sting of the needle sliding into his arm made him gasp. “Shh, it’s all okay.” He reassured with all the air of soothing a fearful child. And then, abruptly, he stepped back and let Cody go.

Chest heaving, Cody backed away from him. Van smiled lazily and leaned against the counter. “You don’t mind if I use your bathroom, do you?”

The world began to spin, blackness creeping into the sides of his vision.

“Careful, now. Don’t run into anything.” He pushed away from the counter and strode towards stricken young man. He reached out and caught him under his arms even as he crumpled, holding him up. With a grunt of effort, he threw Cody over his shoulder.

He recognized the patterns of his hallway flooring, the carpet in his bedroom and, finally, laying on his back, the bedroom ceiling. He tried to get up to make sure Rylan was safe, to protect him, but he couldn’t and he watched the ceiling slowly swim away before everything dissolved into black.

Cody rolled over, pulling an irritated face at the light that streamed through the blinds in the bedroom. For what must have been the hundredth morning, he made a mental note to replace the blinds with thicker ones. He thought about getting ones that matched the dark blinds in his living room, thinking idly as he regained consciousness, and then- a dark apartment, a snarling grin and that single blue eye. Cody bolted awake, sitting up in his bed and breathing hard.

He noticed he was still in yesterday’s clothes and on top of the blankets instead of nestled under them. A headache throbbed behind his eyes and he felt sick. Where was Van—he had to find Rylan. He struggled to get out of bed, limbs feeling weak and stomach roiling.

The door to his bedroom opened suddenly and he whipped his gaze towards it so fast he pulled a muscle in his neck.

“Jeez, good morning.” Rylan snickered as Cody rubbed at the burning sensation in his neck. He shot him a bemused look, “Are you wearing the same thing as yesterday? Wait, did you even change out of it?”

“N-no.” He muttered, distracted. Here was Rylan, safe and sound. What happened yesterday? He remembered coming home and being afraid for Rylan, then Van had been there and threatening him. He remembered the needle and immediately glanced down at his arm. There was a blotch of blood under the skin where the needle had unceremoniously been jabbed in.

“What, then—oh.” Rylan snorted, examining the hem of his sweater as if embarrassed. “I guess that’s why you didn’t wake me up yesterday.”

Cody looked up from his horrified examination of his arm- yesterday had indeed been real. The mark proved it. “What? What are you talking about?” He mumbled, trying to decide where Van had gone and if he’d be back before he could call the cops.

“Well,” Rylan rolled his eyes, “Thank you for doing what you did, but it is your place after all.” When Cody only blinked at him, he huffed and continued, “If you already went to the trouble to bring someone home, you could have at least done what you brought him home to do. You didn’t have to pass out without getting it on just so you wouldn’t wake me up. You could’ve picked someone more… normal to bring home, by the way.” He added the last bit as a muttered afterthought.

Cody crossed the room in a stride and pulled Rylan all the way into the room, slamming the door behind him. “What do you mean?” He asked, desperate to hear what he wanted to hear.

Rylan pulled a face, “What the heck is wrong with you?” He flinched away from the fierce look, “If you don’t remember, go ask your man- he’s at the table. You’re an ass for running around on Jared too, by the way.” He gave his older brother his best disapproving look. “He called so many times yesterday- I hope he got a hold of you.”

Cody’s heart froze, grinding to a halt in his chest. “What?” The one word question barely made it past his lips as a breath of disbelief.

“What’s wrong with you?” Rylan demanded, eyes travelling over his brother and stopping at the blood bruise, “What the hell!” he grabbed Cody’s arm, turning it over, “Where you shooting up yesterday? No wonder you’re so whacked out this morning!” Rylan rarely swore so when he did, it was a big deal.

Clapping a hand over Rylan’s mouth, he hissed, “Quiet- just be quiet. I didn’t shoot up- it’s a long story. Who is at the table?” His heart beat wildly.

Rylan made an angry muffled noise before Cody let him go. He swiped the back of his hand over his lips and scowled, “What do you mean? You don’t remember? Jesus, Cody, don’t drink so much.” He scoffed and stormed away, opening the bedroom door.

He made a grab for him but Rylan dodged away, eyeing him angrily, “Go get your head on straight.”

“Rylan!” He hissed, creeping out after him.

It felt too normal in his hallway to be creeping. The sunlight from the large window in his living room filled his whole apartment, spilling into the hall as well. Apart from the psycho killer that was somewhere in his apartment along with his brother and the splitting headache he had, it seemed a perfectly normal morning. That is, no ominous storms or spooky horror flick music to help the mood along.

He rounded the corner that merged his bedroom hallway with the rest of his apartment, following Rylan. He wasn’t ready for the sight that greeted him.

A single eye glanced over the top of the morning paper that was delivered to Cody’s door everyday. “Morning.” Van nodded and went back to reading the paper. There was a mug of steaming coffee on the table in front of him. It was a happy, blue flowered mug.

It wasn’t what the prison escapee in his kitchen was doing that shocked him so thoroughly, but his appearance. Apparently he’d reacquainted himself with hygiene over the night. He was clean-shaven, trimmed, and just clean in general.

He wasn’t wearing the scrubs anymore and Cody immediately recognized some of the clothing Jared had stored in his closet for when he stayed overnight. He and Jared may have been the about the same size when Van wasn’t emaciated, but the jeans he now wore barely clung to his hips. His structure and the width of his shoulder’s couldn’t have changed so the t-shirt he wore fit him more or less. The lack of sleeves on the t-shirt left his arms bare and revealed a multitude of scars; some were the rigid white lines of old scars, some looked to be cigarette burns, and some were crusted and fresh coupled with bruises.

“Something the matter, love?” Van glanced back over the paper, eyebrows raised in question. Cody noted his voice was as hoarse as it had been last night.

Cody clenched his jaw and shot a look at Rylan- who was ignoring both of them and watching the news. He dragged his gaze back to the man at his table, “I think,” He hissed, “it’s time for you to leave.”

All he got for his venom was a chuckle, “Leave?” He went back to reading the paper, the corners of his lips upturned, “But the fun hasn’t even started yet.”

Rylan shot them both a disturbed look.

“Can I have a word with you?”

“Sure. Shoot.” He didn’t move and his eyes kept scanning the black and white print.

“In private.” Cody gritted. He was keeping a safe distance away already- there was no way he wanted to go into a secluded room with the psycho, but what choice did he have? It wasn’t like he could scream to get out of his house with Rylan to worry about.

“Ah.” Van looked up and grinning with a certain amount of wicked, twitching an eyebrow, “I get it.”

Rylan turned the volume up on the television.

Taking an irritating amount of time to fold the paper and lay it aside, Van slid his fingers through the mug handle and got to his feet.

Cody turned and marched back down the hall, into the bedroom for lack of a better room. The bathroom seemed like it had too much tiling and hard tub surfaces to be safe. His heart was giving marathon champions a run for their money by the time he closed the door behind the taller man.

He sipped the black liquid from the blue flowered mug, calmly waiting for Cody to start speaking.

“Why are you still here?” He asked the first thing that leapt off his tongue, keeping close to the door handle in case Van tried something. Although, judging by the last few instances of their dominance matches, it probably wouldn’t make much of a difference.

On top of being eyed from over the mug the man was intent on draining, the empty socket that was his right eye was unnerving Cody. He swallowed and cleared his throat, “It’s convenient.”

“Convenient?” Cody demanded in disbelief. He had experience conversing with psychos before so he supposed he was at more of an advantage than the average Joe. Not by much though- the psychos he dealt with were usually behind bars or in a controlled environment. As opposed to, you know, standing in his bedroom having a cup of coffee.

“Yes.” He paused to sip. “Would you like me to list the reasons?” He only waited for Cody to open his mouth before continuing, “Of course you do. It’s all part of the ‘stall the intruder’ method isn’t it?” He shook his head, grinning, “Let’s see. It’s classy little place with marvellous security, owned by a prestigious person associated- however discretely- with the CIA, that’s out of the public eye and is already stocked with supplies. More?”

“If you know I’m associated with the CIA you’d know that they probably already know you’re here.” Cody bluffed, raising his chin.

Van drained the mug and set it down on the dresser beside him. “I wish you were right about that. I’d like a rematch.” He stepped close enough to crowd Cody against the door. Close enough that Cody could smell the clean, soap smell of a recent shower and the detergent Jared used on his clothes. “Why don’t you get them on the phone, sweetheart? Go on- see how far you get. I could use some excitement.”

Cringing away, Cody tried not to let the fear take over his brain. “Fuck off-“ He put his arm between them as a last ditch barrier attempt. “Why are you even here? Why did you come here?”

He was close but he wasn’t quite touching Cody. “I didn’t have much in the way of options. Besides,” He kept his intense, blue gaze fixed on Cody, “I owed you a thank you.”

“For what?” Cody muttered.

“Transferring me- well,” He chuckled and leaned his elbow against the door beside Cody, giving him even less room, “actually, thank you for getting your uncle to approve the transfer immediately. Is he new to the CIA?” The way he was grinning, he looked deranged.

Cody tried to keep his gaze on the floor. It was all too easy to remember the last two times this man had come this close; the first had resulted in him being forcefully kissed and the second had resulted in him being forcefully sedated. Clue the key word there: forcefully. Against his will. Not by his choice. He shuddered wondering what else would be forceful.

“Cat got your tongue? You don’t seem quite as talkative as you were at Haight.” His voice wasn’t aggressive and he didn’t sound as insane as Cody knew he was. If you’d never met Van and had the sole pleasure of talking to the man on the phone, you wouldn’t believe he was mad at all.

“Should I be? I mean, really, you’re kind of holding all the cards here, buddy.” He said in an undertone as if a softer voice would somehow keep the killer passive.

Cody refused to look at him but he could hear the surprise in his voice, “Am I? If I were, I wouldn’t be in this situation. Let’s work some of our issues out then, shall we?” He backed away, arms sweeping out in a mock gesture of peace, “I don’t particularly want to battle this out with you.”

“What?” Cody was far beyond confused at this point. Maybe Van was so unhinged he just seemed to be able to function normally when really he was off the deep end.

“What I mean to say, is let’s do this the easy way. You don’t kick up a fuss, I don’t react to the fuss, and we’re both pretty damn happy in the end.” He paused, seeing Cody’s blank look, “Look. I need somewhere to stay and recoup enough to finish the things I need to do. You just so happen to have the things I need and thus I’m going to be moving in.”

Insane. It was official, the man was cracked in the head. “You think I’m just going to let you stay?” All he could think of was why Robert hadn’t called him- surely they knew Van was missing from the hospital already. Why hadn’t his escape been on the news?

“Yeah, pretty much. I figured it would be like the Brady Bunch idea.” His mouth twisted into a lopsided grin, “Except without all those kids. Just you and me, sweetheart.”

“You know you’re insane, right?” He said in disbelief. The second both he and Rylan were out of the house, he was going straight to Robert. His uncle would deal with all of it.

“So I’ve been told. And yet, I can still rationalize with the best of them. Ah, well, I guess you can’t be perfect in life.” He grinned and ran a hand across his clean-shaven jaw, “But damn does it feel good to be human again.”

Cody shook his head in denial. “You’re mad and you’re not staying here. Either you get the hell out or I do.” There was that small chance that Van would be uncomfortable enough to leave if he thought he wasn’t safe here.

He sighed and leaned against the dresser, “Kid, you’re not really grasping the whole situation here. Either you let me stay like a good boy, or I kill you and I stay anyways. The second option inconveniences me to the point that I’d have to expend the effort to not only kill you, but find somewhere to put your lovely corpse.”

The argument Cody had ready died on his lips. Okay. Time for Plan B: Go along with whatever the psycho wants until opportunity presents itself to escape.

“Now, to tell the truth, I’m not feeling up to snuffing you at the moment so I’m hoping you’ll go with the first choice.”

Cody nodded, voice cracking when he spoke, “The first choice sounds good.”

“Good. There, see? I told you we could work things out.” He smiled like the wolf he was. “Any questions?”

Actually, he did have few. “This whole ‘thing’ is between you and I right? Rylan is not included in anything.” He mustered up his best glare.

“Sure. I’m a reasonable guy.” He nodded, leaning passively against the dresser like he had all the time in the world.

“And who the hell are you? Really?”

Van raised his eyebrows, “Surely you already know all about me. Donovan Gleason, twenty-eight, six foot two inches, brown hair, blue-“ He paused, grinning, “eye.”

Cody shuddered. “That wasn’t what I meant. Obviously you have something going on with the CIA.”

“Oh that’s a bedtime story for another day.”

Er… at least he wasn’t making at moves to attack. Cody frowned, “What happened yesterday?”

“Depends. Do you mean after you got home?”

“Why- what happened before I got home?”

“Relax. Nothing that you should be concerned with. It was just my exciting first day back in reality. You’re concerned with what happened after you got home- because you were too drunk to remember it?” Van queried, having the audacity to look amused.

“No, because I was fucking drugged, asshole.” He turned his arm over to reveal the blotch of blue and yellow. The frustration at being locked into an unbelievable situation was starting to make him lose his patience- even as he knew it was the worst thing to do. He should have been terrified, but all he could feel was anger.

“Ah, love, did you want me to kiss it better?” He cooed and pushed away from the dresser.

Cody tensed and jerked his arm back. “No- why the hell did you drug me in the first place?”

Van shrugged, “You were making a fuss and it was making me unsettled. I was tired and I bungled it a bit, sorry. I’ll be more careful with the needle next time, I promise.”

He was almost afraid to ask the question that popped into his mind, “After I passed out, what did you do?”

He chuckled, “As needed as it was, I took the time to clean myself up.”

“All night?” He pressed.

Van snorted, “No, I spent most of the night ravishing you stupid. Was that what you really wanted to know? You could have just asked it outright.” He shook his head, “You’d be surprised how long one can take relaxing in a bath.”

Nice to know. Cody was sure he would have noted the finer signs anyways- like not being fully dressed in the morning and, you know, being in extreme amounts of pain. Despite all the turmoil, he was hungry. And Van’s empty coffee cup taunted him.

“Besides, broken ribs aren’t conducive to any bedroom activity.” He added, “And- where are you off to?”

“Breakfast.” Cody mumbled. He needed some sense of normalcy and routine seemed like the best way to go about it.

He turned the door knob, pulled opened the door and walked down the hall, feeling like his body was on autopilot while his mind was spinning. His actions were so forced he felt like robot. Van followed him, mug back in his hand.

Rylan was still in the living room, watching the screen, and looked up at their entrance. He waved the cell phone that had been in his pocket at Cody, “Mom is coming to pick me up soon. She just called.”

Cody just nodded. It would make the situation that much better if Rylan was out of harm’s way. Some bit of him was terrified to be alone with Van, however.

Moving to the cupboards above his kitchen countertops, Cody reached for a box of cereal. Boxed bits of crunchiness were hard to burn or ruin- just add milk and you’re set. He had to keep up the charade that everything was normal or else Rylan would start asking questions.

He could feel Van’s gaze on him and it was pushing him closer and closer to hysteria. Finally, he couldn’t take it and turned. “What? If you have something to say, say it.”

He looked from the cereal box to Cody’s honey-coloured eyes, amused. “Is that the best you can do?”

“I don’t cook, alright?” he snapped. He wasn’t sure why he was getting defensive over breakfast, but he suspected it was the excess of stress as of late. He wondered if the hospital knew Van was missing. Why had he ever gotten Robert to okay the transfer? He felt like he’d signed his own death warrant.

“I do.” Van said simply and plucked the box from Cody’s grasp, replacing it on the shelf. He leaned way, way too close for comfort.

Before Cody could communicate his outrage, Rylan had wandered into the kitchen. Afraid to say anything that would encourage Van to become dangerous, Cody snapped his jaw firmly shut.

“What are you making?” Rylan asked, hesitating around the corner of the countertop.

He took a step back, away from Cody, and started to go through the cupboards. “Not sure yet. Is there a recipe book around here someplace?” You’d think the man would be more wary after being on the run from the law, but no, he slid right into his role of ‘Cody’s one plus’.

Relenting due to the sole fact the man would probably keep snooping until he found what he was after, Cody pointed at the cupboard beside the fridge. His heart was burning a fierce tattoo in his chest again.

He slid the thick tome off the shelf. It was brand new- a year old, housewarming gift from his mother- and the title read ‘Modern Cooking’. Then, in the very best definition of the term ‘anticlimactic’, the serial killer in his kitchen began to flip through the cookbook. Cody felt like he needed to sit down.

Rylan eyed him from his anchor at the corner of the counter, refusing to come any closer. His chin was tilted a notch down and he glanced from Cody to Van with a disapproving glare.

And then Rylan spoke up, frowning, “You know this is all time low for you.” It was directed at Cody.

His accusation, loud after the silence, caused Cody to shift his gaze to his brother. Van didn’t look up from his page flipping

“Are you going to tell Jared?’

Of all times to bring up the trivial- Cody shook his head at Rylan. It was meant to quiet the teen but he didn’t interpret it that way.

“You’re not going to tell him?” His tone was one of disbelief. “Look, I normally don’t say much about what you do- mostly because you’ll do it no matter what anyone says- but this is getting a little dumb. At least call him.”

“I’ll deal with that later.” Cody muttered, trying to dismiss it.

Van had glanced sidelong from his readings.

“You know he’s just going to come down here, right?”

“I’ll deal with it.” Cody said more firmly.

As he feared, Van spoke up, “Have I walked into a domestic dispute?” But he knew. Cody could tell he knew from the tug of his lips alone.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Rylan spoke to him directly for the first time. The sad fact of the matter was that his little brother was so angry with him he chose to take the psycho’s side over his. Not that Van had let anything so incriminating slip, Cody was sure.

“Lucky me.” He glanced back at the book, “How do pancakes sound?”

“You can make pancakes?” He was eyed with a degree of suspicion- albeit one that was steadily warming to the strange man.

“If I find everything I need to make them, yes.”

Cody interrupted their newly formed alliance by clearing his throat. “Isn’t mom coming to pick you up right away?” The last thing he needed was for his new guest to poison his brother.

He hopped up on the countertop, “I’ve got time. You know mom.”

And they both did know their mother. More often than not, she got distracted doing this or running that and had ended up hours late to numerous appointments.

“Fine. I have pancake mix in the cupboard.”

“Why don’t we try it from scratch?” Van suggested, opening the fridge and peering inside. He pulled out a carton of eggs and set them on the counter. The milk and butter followed after.

“Must you? I have perfectly good,” he hissed, pulling out the box of mix as proof, “pancake mix right here.”

“Powdered anything tastes terrible.” Was his only argument as he continued to raid Cody’s kitchen for ingredients.

“What’s your name?” Rylan piped up, amused by Cody’s direct dismissal. He was still perched on the countertop, fingers curled around the ledge.

Ridiculous. Cody was fuming- not only was this dangerous, it was surreal. As if. As if, he had to pick his apartment to invade. When this was all over and granted he was still alive, he was never making the same mistake. He was never giving out information about himself ever again.

“Donovan, but Van is preferred.” He said over his shoulder, preoccupied with retrieving a mixing bowl from the top shelf where he’d discovered it. Cody, in his small revenge, refused to help him by pointing out where the things were.

Rylan nodded, a notch more comfortable.

“So, pray tell, what exactly am I interrupting by being here?” Van asked Rylan, “Who were you talking about before?”

“That’s my business, thank you very much.” Cody snapped before Rylan could open his mouth.

“Ah,” Van smiled, “I’ll have to ask you later then, won’t I?”

Doubtful. The first chance Cody got at bolting, he was going to take it. Damned be the apartment, he had good insurance.

They fell into a quiet, Van seemingly satisfied with his findings and thus setting to work combining them. Rylan pointed out where the frying pan was when Cody refused to, and Van moved to the next step of his intent. He hadn’t been joking- he looked like he knew what he was doing.

With the smell of the late breakfast filling the apartment, so came Rylan’s courage.

“Where are you from?” He asked, having moved from the far counter to atop the one closest to the stove. Cody, in turn, had to move closer to ensure his protection.

Van hummed an indecisive note, flipping a pancake in the pan. “Here and there.”

“Here and there, here? Or here and there far away?” The teen pushed.

“I’ve been many places and never made a home of any of them.” He flopped two pancakes right out of the pan onto a plate and handed it to Rylan.

He didn’t move from the counter. Rather, he reached into the cupboard behind his head and pulled out the syrup, proceeding then to drown his plate in the sticky sweetness.

“Here.” Cody handed him a fork before he could start to pick everything apart with his fingers like he usually did. The only time the kid used proper utensils was if someone made a point of giving him cutlery- if he could get away using his fingers, he would. Sometimes, when Cody thought about it for too long, he figured it all came back to how they were raised- too much strictness made Rylan even more childish.

He wasn’t sure what to do when he found a plate shoved into his hands too.

“It’s better than cereal.” Van smirked.

Cody set the plate down on the counter, glaring not at it but at Van. He almost lost it then and would have demanded he get out, but the sound of a cell phone ring tone pulled his attention away.

“Hello?” Rylan had the phone against his ear, one finger tracing in the syrup on his empty plate. He’d inhaled his breakfast in the blink of an eye.

While Rylan nodded and ahuh-ed his way through the short call, Van took over Cody’s abandoned plate. He continued to mind the frying pan.

“Is mom here?” Cody asked when he’d flipped the phone shut.

“Yup.” Rylan nodded, sliding off the counter and leaving the plate by the sink.

As he pulled his shoes on by the door, a thousand scenarios about how to get Rylan to call the cops ran through Cody’s mind. He could just pull him into a hug and whisper it or something- surely Van wasn’t close enough to hear. And what if that went wrong? What price would he pay if Van thought either of them a threat?

In the end, Cody did nothing. He hugged his little brother goodbye and prayed it wouldn’t be the last time he would be able to say it. Rylan walked out the door, calling a goodbye to Van, and out of harm’s way. After the door had closed the silence was deafening.

“So, pumpkin, what’s on your mind?”

Cody didn’t want to turn around. He wanted to rip open the door and bolt down the hallway. The slight ceramic tink of a plate being set down came close to solidifying his harebrained escape attempt.

“Hmm?” Came the prompt from behind him.

Maybe if he didn’t look, Van would disappear. Maybe the CIA would come bursting in at any moment and neutralize Van. Maybe Cody’s heart would finally explode and he’d drop dead before Van could knife him. He steadied himself for a million things but found he wasn’t ready for the one that came.

A sound in between a gasp and a hiccup made him turn. Van stood, one hand steadied against the counter and the other over his stomach. He had a confused look on his face. His shoulders jerked and he gagged, lunging for the sink. Hanging over the rim, he emptied the pancakes that couldn’t have been halfway down his throat yet. It was a strange mirror of what had happened yesterday- where it had been Cody hanging over the sink.

Cody blinked and gave himself a mental slap. What- Why? It didn’t matter- now was his chance to run for it! But… his feet didn’t move. “What did you put in the pancakes?” He demanded- if he’d been right and Rylan had consumed something poisonous, he’d never forgive himself.

Van cleared his throat and spat into the sink. He ran the tap, washing out the sink and splashing a handful into his face. Then, he straightened up, “Nothing.” His skin had taken on an ashen tone.

“Why are you getting them out of your system then?” He should have bolted after Rylan and driven him to the hospital- staying here was insane. Had Rylan already made it to the car? Cody pictured him collapsed somewhere and it drove him into anxiety.

“My stomach can’t handle this anymore.” He bared his teeth in a snarl. “I’ve spent five years rotting and starving- this was too much for my senses.”

He didn’t believe him. “What did you put in them?” He repeated, backing up.

“Idiot,” The other man growled, “you were right there watching me. I used your ingredients.” His gaze sharpened and he pushed away from the counter as he noted Cody’s backward pace.

The moment he started forwards towards him, Cody bolted for the door. Heart pounding, he ripped open the door and heard Van curse from behind him. The door slammed into the wall with the force he’d swung it with and he pelted down the hall, cursing it for being long and without turns or hiding spots.

He didn’t get halfway before he was tackled. He hadn’t even heard his pursuing footsteps, but now, crashing painfully to the carpet, he felt the solidness of the body that had tackled him. Cody yelped in fear and pain but a hand clapped over his mouth.

“Is this some sort of plea for me to slit your throat?” He hissed, breathing next to Cody’s ear. He removed his hand and moved above Cody. A knee placed against his back pinned him to the ground. “Keep trying my patience, kid, and you’ll find out just how much fun I am.”

Facedown in the hallway carpet was not Cody’s idea of fun. Nor did he want to experience any more fun. “Get off.” He snapped, wriggling but finding the pressure against his spine only increased the more he struggled.

“I’d love to- but let’s get to know each other better first. Let’s have a little ‘getting to know you’ session right now, hmm? I don’t think you quite understood our bedroom chat earlier.” He cleared his throat and shifted his knee, “The little stunt you pulled right now? That pissed me off. Thanks to you, sweetheart, I’m hurting.”

Cody curled his fingers into the carpet, trying to think of some way to get out of this.

“I’m going to make this very, very clear. If you fuck with me again, I will leave your darling little brother’s body somewhere for you to find.” He purred and Cody’s breath caught in his throat.

“You promised-“

“Ah, but you have to uphold your promises for me to keep mine.” The knee was really starting to hurt. “Do you know how easily I could find him? He’s merely a phone call away-” He paused, going still.

The pressure against his back was removed and a second later the elevator doors on the floor pinged opened. A cleaning lady pushed a cart full of supplies out, dragging a vacuum behind her. She glanced their way.

“Oh, darling!” The man who had just been threatening his brother’s life, gushed, “You clumsy thing, let me help you up.” He grabbed Cody’s arm and tugged him easily to his feet. And, to Cody’s disgruntlement, pulled him into his arms.

Cody leaned at an extreme angle, trying to get away. His already abused back- from the last time Van had tackled him to the floor- now felt further bruised.

Strong hands grabbed the base of his skull, pulling him closer yet and threading through his hair. He whispered, “Careful, now.” And then raised his voice, “Why don’t we go put some ice on that ankle?”

Resigning himself to the terrifying fact that he was going to be dragged back into his secluded apartment and more than likely murdered, Cody wanted to collapse. If he yelled, the lady might make it to the elevator before Van got her too, but he would surely be killed. Even in the best care scenario, the one where both he and the poor cleaning lady lived, Van would hunt Rylan down.

“Are you all right?” The woman called, neck of the old vacuum in one hand.

“Yes, just a little stumble.” Van assured her cheerily. Cody didn’t have time to realize what he was doing when he stooped until it was too late. He picked him up, bridal style, and carried him back towards the still opened door.

Cringing away as much as possible while being carried, Cody was out of ideas. The threat of harming Rylan would keep him in line. The only way to guarantee both he and Rylan’s safety was to kill Van or at least get him arrested. Somehow he doubted he’d just be able to bash him over the head with a frying pan and be done with it.

Van set him on his feet once back inside and closed the door. “Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?”

There was a large blotch of red on the front of the t-shirt he was wearing. Cody spared a thought to wonder if he was the one injured but he was fine.

Maybe he could just wait until the guy bled to death. All he’d have to do, Cody thought with a sort of hysterical amusement, was run around some more and have Van chase him.

The phone on the wall started to ring and they both looked at it.

“Answer it.” Van smiled.

Authors Note (November 19, 2008)

Okay, so I haven't updated in far too long. I need to be smacked.

My finals/mid-terms/exams from hell are coming up, all in the first week of Decemeber, so I will have to make myself scarce until December 7th. However, I have the entire month of December up until January 7th as a break so I think I'll be able to get a little writing in :)

Cheers to everyone who's stuck by my fiction. Lot's of lovin' to you all.

Also, if anyone is an oldie here and remembers Sierus and Trick from the first version of A Softer Sin, you might be interested in the shortie fiction I'm just going to post after I finish posting this. :) It's called 'The Nothing Game'. Its a mini-fic about what my guys are really like lol you may be confused, disturbed or just pleasantly surprised. Check it out if you're interested. I think I friend of mine is still halfway through illustrating it into a mini comic actually.. I'll have to get her to finish it someday.

Hope everyone's still alive and kicking.

Also, I keep forgetting to mention this: A huge thank you to all the anonymous reviewers! Darn you guys, I can't reply and say thank you back to you because all I have is a little name in text- No link! :( Thank you for taking the time to read and send me little happy notes :)

-EA