All right guys, I apologize wholeheartedly for this taking so long. I suck. I've had the Micah half of this chapter written for ages, but the Coen half just... wouldn't come out. When I finally did write it, literally after I had just finished typing it, my hard drive crashed. I ended up buying a new laptop because of it. Thankfully, I only lost the second half of this chapter, and the prologue to another story I started, as everything else was on my external hard drive. I rewrote the prologue the next day, when I got my new laptop, but... this chapter just wouldn't go. I finally did write it again, obviously, though I changed it drastically. I'm satisfied with it now. I don't know how long it will be before I get around to writing chapter three, though I have some ideas. I do know, generally, what is going to happen in this story, but I need to do some research, and talk to my aunt before I'm sure about it, so it may be a while before this story gets anywhere. Again, I'm sorry, but... nothing to be done for it.

I am, however, working on writing a whole slew of one shots, because they've been in my head for so long, that I'm determined to finally get them onto paper and finished. I've finished one already, but it won't go up until Torn and Tattered finishes the first part of a two-shot she's writing. It's bribery. So... if you want to read it sooner, go bug her, and get her to type it up faster. And she'll so kill me for that later if anyone actually does bug her, but it would so be worth it.

Lastly, I have a little... reference to another book in this story. I highly, highly doubt anyone will catch it, but if you do, or you have a guess, PM me or leave it in a review and, if you're right, I'll write you a one shot, about whomever you choose. Give me a prompt, characters, whatever, and I'll do my best. I'll even give you guys a hint: it's about the dog. I sincerely hope somebody catches it.

That's all for now.

Happy reading.

For I Have Sinned

Chapter Two

Micah watched through the window as Coen left, getting into a black Jeep Wrangler with a young woman who Micah figured for a best friend, possibly a sister. Either way, she has shitty taste in guys if she was responsible for setting up Coen’s date tonight.

As soon as he had disappeared, Micah slid out of the booth and went to another, dropping into the seat across from a tall and rangy blond. The man had come in a few minutes before Coen had departed, but Micah had chosen to ignore him completely rather than acknowledge him in front of Coen. He was livid over the situation he’d been forced into, and hadn’t felt a need to expose Coen to that, especially after the incident with the fork.

“Hello Micah,” the man said, giving him a cheeky grin. “Long time, no see.” Micah glared at him, not letting the blond hair and cruel baby blues, nor the rock hard body, get to him as they once had.

“Not nearly long enough Bryce. I would have really rather never seen you again. And whoever you’re working for can take a flying leap.” Bryce was a free agent, someone who didn’t work for anyone in particular. As he was called in only for specific tasks, Micah had no way of knowing who the man was currently employed by.

“Now that’s just not nice, especially after all the money we offered you,” he said sweetly, shaking his head in something akin to amusement.

“I won’t sell out people who trust me for money,” Micah snapped.

The blond shrugged. “Well, he gave you the chance.”

“And when I said no, rather vehemently, he immediately thought of blackmail. How completely uncreative. Sounds a little bit too much like you; you never were all that bright, more brawn than brains.”

Blue eyes narrowed, and then Bryce leered at Micah. “I didn’t hear you complaining at the time.”

“I was young and stupid,” Micah said with a careless shrug in response. “I didn’t know just how horrible you were at the time.”

“I seem to remember a time when you begged me for everything I was willing to give you.” He leaned forward, giving Micah a slow once over, eyes lingering in certain places. “Now, unless you’d like a reminder, why don’t you give me what I’m here for?”

Micah pulled a small flash drive from his pocket, tossing it onto the table with a look of disgust on his face. The blond picked it up and extracted something from his own pocket, running the little scanner over the drive, before he pocketed both.

“Pleasure doing business with you Mr. Danverse. Please feel free to call me if you need something. Or rather, if you’re in need of a certain someone.” He stood, giving Micah another cheerful leer, before he strode from the diner. The Goth waited until the man had disappeared before he reached behind him, pulling the small netbook out from beneath his button down. The case it was in fit comfortably against his back, and allowed him to hide the computer with relative ease without seeming conspicuous.

Micah fingered the knife on his thigh as he opened the computer, booting it up quickly and then pulling out his cell phone. He pressed a few keys, and then loaded something on the netbook as it rang.

“That was fast.”

“He wasn’t too keen on speaking with me; he probably thought I was trying to get him to give up information,” Micah scoffed. “Not that I even needed him to say a word, but he was just too damn chipper. Only I’m allowed to be that happy at four in the morning.”

Tria laughed on the other end of the phone. “Did he annoy you Micah? How’d it feel?”

“Fuck you Tria. Those people trusted me, and I just sold them out.”

Tria sobered, his sigh quiet as he said something Micah didn’t catch. “If your plan works, as far as they’ll ever know, you didn’t.”

Micah unsubtly changed the subject. “You ready? I need your help for this to work. The program needs a secondary point to bounce off of, otherwise my data is going to be shot all to hell; besides, if the cops show up at your house, Addison can make it all go away in a heartbeat.”

“Go for it Micah. I’m not worried. You’re damn good at what you do, and that asshole deserves whatever he gets.” Micah heard a smack, and then quiet words, followed by laughter. “Addison says I didn’t say that to you.”

“Say what?” Micah asked with a grin, though Tria couldn’t see it. He loved those two, owed them a lot, though he knew that didn’t view it that way. Without the two of them, he would likely be in prison already. “Alright. I’m plugging you in now.”

Micah plugged the cell phone into the port on the side of the computer, and then launched the program he’d spent the last two nights configuring. It had been a pain in the ass, but the GPS dot had finally worked under the parameters he’d needed. The cell phone allowed him to bounce the signal off the towers, thereby giving him a cleared signal, and thus, a more reliable location.

As soon as the program had loaded and was running, Micah pulled the cell phone out, snapping the computer closed and wiping it down before he tossed it into the trash on his way out. There was no way in hell he was going to let it be tracked back to him if the shit hit the fan.

“Got him?” Micah asked as he exited the diner, going left down the sidewalk.

“Yup. He’s definitely on foot, and moving along 3rd, about to intersect with East 29th.”

“Thanks. Keep an eye on it, would you, and call me again when it settles? I can’t make a move until after that.”

“Sure thing kid.”

Micah snapped the phone closed and shoved it into his pocket. He proceeded down the sidewalk, heading towards the street Tria had named. A few minutes of fast paced walking, and Micah had Bryce in his sight once more. The man seemed completely at ease, strolling slowly through the dark night. It was something few people were capable of, being unafraid at this time, especially in this city.

Micah hid himself carefully as he trailed after Bryce. He knew what the man was capable of; despite his earlier taunts to the contrary, Bryce knew what he was doing, and was quite good at his job. Which was part of the reason that Micah couldn’t take care of him until after he’d delivered the drive in his pocket; after that, Bryce would likely think the threat abated. After all, if he no longer had it, what was the point of going after him?

Micah was hoping he would see it that way, at least. He didn’t feel the need to go up against Bryce if the man was well prepared. He didn’t feel like adding any more scars to his collection tonight.

As he leaned against a wall, watching the building Bryce had disappeared into, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Micah pulled it out and flipped it open, answering it only after he checked the caller ID. “He’s stopped.”

“I’m watching the building at the moment. He shouldn’t be in there long, and then you can tell me whether or not the drive left with him.” It was a heartbeat after the words left his mouth that Bryce exited the building again, whistling as he strolled. “Is it still inside?”

“Yup. He dropped it off.”

Micah closed his eyes, exhaling loudly in relief. He could end this quickly then, and not have the entire affair hanging over his head. “Thanks Tria. I’ll call you later, after I do this.”

“If you need something, don’t hesitate to call,” Tria admonished.

“I won’t,” Micah murmured, and then closed the phone, pushing it back into his pocket. He glanced towards the street, eyes widening when he realized Bryce was no longer in sight. Micah’s hand strayed to his knife, sliding it from its sheath. For the man to disappear so fast…

His blood ran cold when he heard the voice speak from behind him, the muzzle of a gun touching his temple a moment later.

“Now, now Micah. Give me the knife, and I’ll let you go when I’d done with you, relatively unharmed.”

XXX

Coen stepped into the apartment he shared with his twin sister and almost immediately felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. His apartment was his haven, one of the few places he still felt safe in. His sister had been the one to decorate it, filling the rooms with cool and comforting colors, as well as near top of the line everything. Everything except his own bedroom had her touch in it.

Lights blazed in their apartment, and Coen bypassed the living room, proceeding directly to the kitchen, mind humming with thoughts he needed to calm. Carefully, he laid his crutches beside the table and slowly stepped into the state of the art kitchen. Coen sighed in pleasure, fingers running idly over the granite countertops as he began to pull ingredients out and set them on the island.

“Coen?”

He paused, giving his sister his full attention. She glanced at the things he’d already laid out, a look of concern flitting over her features, so similar to his own, for a moment before she offered him a slight smile. “Are you all right?”

Coen thought about it for a moment, not inclined to offer a quick yes before returning to his task. He hadn’t lied since everything had happened, and he didn’t intend to start with something so insignificant. Finally, still working, he shook his head slowly. “No. But I will be,” he murmured, opening the refrigerator to retrieve the butter, eggs, baking soda, and chocolate chips.

“What happened baby?” she murmured, coming towards him. She was careful to leave several feet between them, while still attempting to show she wanted to be near him. Despite the fact that she was barely ten minutes older than him, Camilla had always acted more like a mother than a sister towards him, with a few exceptions, such as setting up the blind date for him.

For most of their lives, they’d looked very similar, with the same dirty blond hair, slight tan, and wiry builds. Where his eyes were amber, Camilla’s were dark blue, and he was taller than her by a few inches. Recently, however, Milla had dyed her hair a dark brown color, and had started swimming more, so she was several shades darker than him. They would never be mistaken for anything but siblings, but now there would be that moment of doubt before people asked for confirmation.

Coen shook his head as he retrieved the measuring cups and several bowls from the cupboard, putting them on the island in their kitchen as well. “Nothing important,” Coen said as he preheated one oven for three hundred seventy five, and the other for four hundred. “I’ll tell you about when I make breakfast, okay?” he offered quietly, already beginning to mix the ingredients together. He’d made these two recipes so many times, he no longer needed to check anything.

“All right. I’m going to go finish up my paper, and then I’ll come in and help you.”

It was one of the few things they both enjoyed. They’d gone in drastically different directions in their lives, though they were incredibly close. Cooking, however, was a shared passion, and something they both excelled at, though Coen knew Camilla was better than he’d ever be. He nodded.

Camilla retreated, only to pop back in a moment later. “And be careful,” she said. “I know Dr. Andrews said that you didn’t need to use your crutches all the time, but I don’t want you hurt again.”

“I know,” Coen said. “I will be Milla. It’s okay.”

She gave him another small smile and left the kitchen, heading for the living room, where Coen knew her laptop sat whirring on the coffee table. He listened for the sound of keys, smiling ever-so-slightly when he heard her quick typing.

Now alone, he allowed his mind to wander, the movements of his hands requiring little concentration at an activity he’d done for years. His thoughts immediately jumped to the diner, and the two very different people he’d met. Robi, for the brief few moments they’d been acquainted, hadn’t been very nice, but he probably was a good person. Milla had likely had her reasons for getting the two of them together.

Micah however… Micah had been very kind, and didn’t seem to mind that Coen was so skittish and shy. He’d simply talked enough for the both of them, allowing Coen to speak whenever he chose, but requiring nothing of him. Micah had made his interest in him clear, but Coen wasn’t sure he’d correctly read the man. There was nothing interesting about Coen, nothing that would draw a stranger to him.

Men and women probably flocked to Micah by the dozen, drawn by the aura of ease and comfort that surrounded the man. Even when he himself had been coming down from a panic attack, nerves on high and ready to bolt at the slightest provocation, Micah had been able to talk to him, to talk him down, and keep him there. He’d even talked a bit himself, something he rarely did around strangers.

Coen had no idea what Micah saw in him, what had drawn the other man to him, but he was sure that when he thought back over the night, he would see all the things wrong with Coen, all the things that made him unsuited to be with the older man. He wasn’t worth the time and effort it would take to gain his trust.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a quiet meow, and glanced down in surprise. He smiled slightly at the black cat as he watched Luce rub against his jeans and begin to purr. The pure black cat was always rubbing against people, always purring, shameless in his desire for attention. Coen’s other cat, Nerezza, however, was quite the opposite. She was finicky, seldom allowing people to touch her or pick her up. Oddly enough, she always seemed to know when he needed reassurances, so Coen was unsurprised to see her soon after Luce began rubbing against his legs.

“Hey guys,” Coen murmured, giving both of them a fond smile before he turned back to his baking. They both curled up near one corner of the island, watching as he scooped out the cookies and put them on baking sheets before sliding them into the oven before doing the same with the muffins. Coen then began to wash everything he’d used, pausing to take out the cookies when they were done before returning to the dishes.

The muffins were done soon after, and Coen set them all out to cool. He stood for a moment indecisively before he suddenly began pulling out more ingredients, mind empting as he was forced to concentrate on baking the cake. Several hours passed as he baked, creating the four tier double layer cake slowly but surely.

He heard Einstein, his golden retriever, enter at some point, going to lay near the cats. Einstein was a recent addition to their little family, having only been purchased two and a half months ago, unlike Luce and Nerezza, who Coen had had for close to three years now. The puppy still had a lot of growing to do before he was full grown, but he was already turning out to be a good companion.

Camilla entered the kitchen just as Coen began making their breakfast. The sun had risen almost two hours ago, filling the kitchen, with its several large windows, with warm golden light. Coen didn’t notice his twin enter, too focused on what he was doing, so Camilla was careful not to startle him when she spoke.

“Feeling better?” she asked quietly.

Coen jerked slightly, right hand sliding to his forearm almost without thought, before he remembered he wasn’t wearing the knives at the moment. Camilla closed her eyes, silently wishing death upon Robi. Something had obviously happened, to have put Coen in this state. A beautiful four tier cake was sitting on the island, along with several dozen cookies of different varieties, and at least six dozen muffins of four different types. There was also two plates of brownies, a large pan of lemon bars, and what she thought was a cherry-apple pie, but she wasn’t sure. The only silver lining she could see was that he had only baked. When things got bad, Coen didn’t stick to baking, and began to make all sorts of foods, filling every cabinet and closet in their medium sized apartment with food.

The last time it had gotten that bad, they’d given most of the food away, lest several weeks worth of food go bad. Nonetheless, they’d been able to eat of what they hadn’t given away, the food that kept for a longer amount of time, for almost a month.

“I’m doing better,” Coen murmured. He whipped the eggs and milk together before pouring them into a pan as he waited for Camilla’s next words.

“Let me make breakfast, and you can tell me about what happened.” Because something obviously did, were the words unspoken between them.

Coen nodded once, moving away from the pan of eggs and the bowl of patter for pancakes. The bacon was sitting on the counter, as of yet unopened. Only when he’d taken a careful seat on the floor, out of her way, did she move towards the food, not wanting to intrude in his space. Luce, Nerezza, and Einstein curled up around him, and Coen stroked them absently.

“Did Robi stand you up?” Camilla asked after several moments of silence.

“Sort’ve,” Coen said quietly.

When he didn’t elaborate, Camilla glanced back at him. He was staring out the window, eyes on the city. “Sort’ve?” she questioned.

“He showed up, but he was two hours late,” Coen murmured. “He said his roommate had used all his hair gel, I think.” Coen saw Camilla stiffen, anger almost radiating off of her when he spoke.

“He stood you up for hair gel?” she asked, tone deadly quiet.

“I guess.”

Camilla was silent for several moments, enough time for the two pancakes in the skillet to be finish cooking and be replaced, before she eventually spoke. “I’ll kill him,” she hissed.

“Don’t bother,” Coen said with a small shrug. “I think Micah showed him the error of his ways.”

“Micah?” Camilla asked, looking at him over her shoulder and raising a brow.

Coen looked away, a blush suffusing his cheeks. “He’s a guy I met tonight. He was at the diner, and when Robi didn’t show up, he came up and talked to me when he saw me start having a panic attack. He showed me a card trick, and we talked some, and then Robi showed up. Micah… defended me. He got rid of Robi, and then showed me more card tricks before you picked me up.”

Camilla stared at her brother for several moments, surprise warring with excitement on her face. “Did you get his phone number?” she asked with a grin, clearly deciding to go with the excitement.

Coen couldn’t meet her eyes. “He asked for mine, and asked for my phone and put his number in my contact list.”

“Are you going to call him?” she questioned.

He shook his head. “No,” his whispered. “Why would I? Micah’s amazing, and he’ll probably realize how big of a mistake he made talking to me as soon as he gets home to his gorgeous boyfriend. I’m nothing compared to him.”

“Coen!” she said sharply, and then immediately winced when he flinched. “Coen,” she said again, voice significantly gentler. She moved toward her brother, ignoring the food that could very well burn, and knelt down in front of him, careful not to touch him in any way. “You are not nothing. You’re an amazing and intelligent person, and you’re quite attractive. Any guy, or girl, would be lucky to have you, Micah included.”

He shook his head again. “No Milla. You didn’t see him. He was… gods, he was so… striking. He’s got this aura about him that made me feel safe, even after he threatened someone with death, and looked entirely ready to carry through with it. He’s smart, and funny, and interesting, and the complete opposite of me. I’m sure he just asked for my number out of pity.”

Camilla closed her eyes, feeling the sting of tears, but resolutely holding them back. She wanted to strangle the people responsible for making Coen see himself in this light, despite the fact that she knew two of them, their parents, were dead. Others were still out there, living, and she wanted nothing more than to rend them limb from limb, to make them feel even a fraction of the pain they’d made Coen endure.

“Coen,” she murmured, opening her eyes and making Coen meet her gaze. “You are so wrong about yourself,” she whispered. “I don’t know how you don’t see what I see, don’t see the light I look upon every day that glows within you. You deserve so much better than what you’ve been given, so much more than what you have. You have amazing gifts, and anyone who doesn’t see the person I see when I look at you, isn’t worth your time.

“I don’t think Micah pitied you, and I think he’s genuinely interested in you. And I hope he calls you, and proves to you what I’ve said. You’re worth it, worth him, or anyone else you’re interested in.”

Coen didn’t respond, eyes tightly closed. Camilla stayed before him for a moment more before she pushed to her feet and wiped away the tears she could feel on her face. She wished she could hug her brother, could stroke his hair or rub his back, anything to make him feel better, but knew she couldn’t.

With a quiet sigh, she turned back to their food, hoping to salvage breakfast. Coen didn’t say a word.

XXX

The phone rang once, twice, three times before a hand shot out and grabbed for it, skittering across the nightstand before it found the trilling device and pushed a button.

“Hello?”

There was the sound of pounding footsteps on the other end of line, someone running from something. Harsh pants, and then a quiet whimper of pain followed by a breathless whisper.

“I need your help.”

So, shout out to the following people for reviewing: StoicCrying, Dramatizer, VelvetyCheerio, Cepaea, Siese, Keona Raynalise, writing is an addiction, and animebuddy. You guys are the best. Eight reviews for one chapter. That made me so happy!

Huge, enormous, and endless thanks and undying gratitude for Torn and Tattered who has agreed to beta for this story. She's my hero, for going through all my stuff with a fine tooth comb.

I love the end of this chapter. It fits exactly what I had in my head.

-Shadowed and Shattered