Title: Guided

Author: Edana setsuna84

Rating: PG-13 (for violence, possibly strong, non-explicit sexual situations in later chapters)

Summary: Because of his powers, Laine unwillingly offered himself to a dark creature that won't stop until it claims him. Can Brennan, a descendant of higher beings, protect the boy from the darkness and his own powers?

Disclaimer: All owned by me

Warnings: Shounen ai, yaoi, male/male relationships but also male/female (shock horror)

A/N: IMPORTANT! I combined the first two chapters because I didn't want this fic to end up being very long. Therefore, if you haven't read the original chapter two, it's now the second half of the first chapter. This is a new chapter. Thanks (and sorry for the confusion)

Guided By

Chapter Two – Descendants

It was strange how everything seemed a little blurry, like looking out at the sky through drenched glass, and yet achingly familiar like a half-remembered dream; something tugging at the corners of his mind and a frustrated feeling burning inside, and yet the realisation would never come. This place knew him, but Laine had long ago turned his back on it.

All he could really see through his blurred vision was darkness and rows of dull metal doors – filing cabinets? Or perhaps they were lockers. Everything else was smudged to the point of recognition being impossible but Laine was already breathing hard as though the metal and the darkness was waking something hidden deep inside. He heard the sound of running water and somehow that made the panic all the worse, and when he turned slowly, hesitantly, his violet-blue eyes rested on something that turned the panic into fear.

Everything seemed to speed up after that, a jump in time. One moment Laine was alone in the silence but for the running water, and the next he was running fast, breathing painfully, lungs and muscles burning and his throat clogged by primitive terror. He was running again, always running, trying to escape the predator that haunted not only his dreams but his real life too. And despite how hard he pushed himself, despite how terribly his heart was pounding, how great the need to escape, he felt a hand grab his shoulder hard and the blurriness gave way to darkness and a dreadful wave of pain smashed into his body, choking him, pushing him down under the surface until it felt his heart would burst, long fingers ripping something out of him.

Laine woke up screaming.

He was deaf to the sound of his own pained cries until reality came crashing down and washed away the dream. Then Laine inhaled sharply, shakily, and it was painful and his head was aching, and without letting himself think or feel he buried his face behind his hands, breathing hard. That dream again . . . It always seemed to resurface every time he thought that maybe everything would be all right, destroying all his security and hopeful thoughts. Now, sitting up in Brennan's spare bed with his head in his hands and the bed sheets tangled around his legs as if trapping him there, Laine fought back the sob that was rising in his throat and the desperateness that haunted him.

The darkness, the metal, the water and finally the chase: that was his recurring dream. "Oh God," he sobbed, wiping angrily at his eyes and trying to compose himself. He wasn't a crybaby, he wasn't, but sometimes the emotions simply over spilt and tried to drown him. And that dream . . . it wasn't a premonition or an anxiety dream or anything of the sort, he knew it wasn't. It was more like a long forgotten memory, but that couldn't be right. In the 'dream' he was old enough to understand that something bad was happening, and it all seemed so familiar. Achingly familiar: hurtful.

It was still dark – Laine could barely make out the features of the room. The pain in his chest was slowly ebbing away and he turned, saw the red numbers of the digital clock in the darkness and sighed gently. 3.15 AM, no wonder it was still dark. Biting his bottom lip, he hoped that his screaming hadn't woken Brennan, because disturbing the person who had given him shelter and even protection was the last thing that he wanted to do.

He couldn't sleep, or he didn't really want to close his eyes and let the images dance before his mind again. Instead, Laine untangled himself from the sheets and left the bedroom, heading for the kitchen in the dark. And a thought struck him. Brennan was blind, or had been for several hours the night before. What must it be like for him having to sacrifice his eyes or his ears or his tongue just because he had been born with a sense that most people didn't have? What was it like living in a house alone and not being able to see, even for just a few hours? Laine couldn't answer those questions because no matter how hard he tried he would never truly understand. All he knew was that Brennan had lost his sight because of him, because he'd offered himself to a dark creature that hadn't wanted to let go.

Laine lifted a hand to his face and pushed sweat-damp strands of pale hair from his eyes. It was too early to be contemplating things like this – his brain was still currently made from cotton wool and everything in his life was a little more confusing and messed up than usual. What was the point in asking questions?

The rest of the house was just as dark, and Laine walked slowly and carefully down the stairs, gripping the banister tightly. The child inside of him was still afraid of the night, especially when the darkness was something that he had no control over, leaving him powerless. And as soon as he reached the bottom step he heard a sound that set his heart racing. Oh damn, noises in the dark. This wasn't good, not at all. Thoughts of Haden or some other dark creature made his throat tighten, but Laine fought back the fear, heart racing as he took slow and quiet steps towards the living room. The sound was only soft, like someone or something moving about, but it was enough to alert him.

Carefully, silently, Laine looked into the living room and saw two glowing eyes looking back at him. His heart leapt into his throat before he realised what the noise was – the cat. Of course it was the cat! Two yellow-green eyes were glowing dimly in the light and now it made so much sense. Laughing at his own stupidity, Laine took a step into the room and found the switch on the wall, bathing the room in light.

There was a man sitting on the sofa looking back at him.

Laine screamed in pure shock and horror, stumbling back, body flooded with adrenaline. The eyes – they belonged to a person. A person who was currently sitting and looking at him silently, eyes narrowed in confusion, a scowl on his face. The pounding of his heart was painful and Laine's breaths were ragged as he looked into the living room again and sure enough the man was looking back at him and nothing was making that much sense. And without really thinking the blonde turned off the light, and now he knew for sure it was the man's eyes that were glowing like cat's eyes, watching him, and set in a human face they were terrible and alarming. Quickly he turned the light on again, stomach lurching and legs suddenly weak.

"Stop playing with the light," the man scolded. "It's not a toy."

"Who – who are you?" Laine asked, clinging onto the doorframe for support.

The man raised an eyebrow and scowled. "Who am I? Who are you and what are you doing in this house?"

Laine didn't know what was going on, if Brennan knew this man or if he was some dark creature trying to trick him. He studied the stranger: those peculiar yellow-green eyes, narrow and somewhat slanted. Actually, they reminded Laine of the eyes of ancient Egyptian pharaohs with their long and almost heavy dark lashes. His hair was coffee coloured, cut short and spiked and there was a look of dislike or perhaps even malice on his face. Apart from his eyes, the stranger was like any other good-looking guy, perhaps the same age as Brennan. And yet all Laine could find himself saying was, "Your eyes glow in the dark. Did you know that?"

The man stood quickly, sighing in exasperation. "What are you, stupid? I asked you a question. Who are you and what are you doing here? And if you don't give me a satisfactory answer then I'm going to kill you, got it?"

Laine inhaled sharply at the words, knowing somehow that this guy meant every single thing he said. There was no humour whatsoever in his voice. "Kill me?" he echoed, heart racing again, his head pounding in confusion. "But Brennan took me in, he let me stay! Honestly, I'm not lying!"

"Brennan let you stay? Why would he do that?"

"Because there was something chasing me, and he said that he would help me and then Haden starting shaking the house and Brennan used his sixth sense and then he went blind!" Laine knew that he was babbling, but the panic and fear were overwhelming and he couldn't let his life come to an end just because some guy with glowing eyes decided not to believe him. "Why don't you just wake him up and ask him yourself?"

The man sneered again, and then he reached for his belt and for the first time Laine noticed a small sheath there, some kind of scabbard. Eyes wide in horror, he watched as the man took a dagger from the sheath and for just a second he realised just how strange the dagger was. The blade was silver, long and thin and pointed at the top like a harpoon, the hilt rounded like a half compass and decorated with gold and silver patterns, engraved with words he couldn't read in the darkness, and there was a thick silver chain attached to it.

But by now the strange looking dagger was clutched in the hand of the new arrival and Laine instinctively took a step back, biting his bottom lip and shaking his head in disbelief. Maybe this had been a trap from the very beginning. "What are you doing?" he managed to ask.

"I don't believe your little story," the man spat. "Why would Brennan take in a insignificant stray like you when he was alone in the house? Why would he put himself in danger by using his power? And, most importantly, why the hell is your aura so damn fragmented?"

"My what?" Laine cried in confusion, but he didn't get an answer. Instead the man approached with inhuman speed and Laine found himself pressed against the wall, crying out as he felt the blade pressed against his throat hard enough to draw blood. He tried to look down at the dagger but he was choking as the man pressed harder against his windpipe, and there was something like fury in those yellow-green eyes.

"Don't act the innocent with me," the stranger snarled. "I can see past your little 'lost and vulnerable' façade! The emptiness inside of you is blinding."

Laine didn't know what the man meant, but he couldn't even move or say a word with the blade pressed against his throat. He could feel the warmth of blood against his skin but mostly he felt the dread and horror of being killed in this place, so far away from home, and no one ever knowing what happened to him. Lips parted as he struggled for breath, Laine simply looked into the face of the stranger and silently pleaded.

Suddenly everything changed. The dagger wasn't pressed to his throat anymore, it was falling to the ground, and the man moved away sharply as if he'd been stung, and Laine looked on in confusion as the sounds reached his ears. Metal clattered against the wooden floor and the man was breathing raggedly and then Laine felt a strange power radiating in the air around them, and he heard a thankfully familiar voice. "Kyrie, that's enough!"

Laine looked up slowly, dizzyingly, and saw Brennan on the stairs with his crossed arms resting on the banister, looking down on them like some kind of omniscient god passing judgement. He felt like he should smile or be relieved, but all Laine could find himself doing was numbly looking up at the dark haired man with wide eyes.

"I knew you were hot headed," Brennan continued, "but honestly, Ky. Were you going to kill Laine in cold blood just because you didn't like his story?"

"His story?" Kyrie echoed. "I didn't like his aura. What's the matter with you, Bren? We leave you alone for one night and you bring a dark, broken little thing like that into your house?"

Laine was still breathing hard, simply watching the two and listening to their conversation. He didn't know what was happening and he didn't pretend to. Instead he remained against the wall for support, lowered his head and saw the strange dagger at his feet. He felt dizzy when he saw the fresh blood on his blade.

"What I do is none of your business, Ky," Brennan said hotly. "At least I don't go around trying to kill your acquaintances."

"I didn't like the feel of him."

"Oh, that's all right then." Brennan rolled his eyes as he descended the last few steps and came to a stop before Laine, and the anger faded from his eyes the moment he saw the boy. Laine had his head lowered, silent and motionless but one fist formed, and there was blood splattered against his throat and jaw. "Are you all right?" Brennan asked softly.

"So you can see again, then?" Kyrie said dryly.

"For God's sake, will you shut up for one moment?"

Kyrie grinned, and there was genuine amusement on his face. Quickly he raised a hand and saluted Brennan. "Yes, sir. I'll be off now, shall I?"

"Funny. Very funny."

"I thought so."

Suddenly Laine looked up from the floor and there was pain and confusion in his eyes. "Did he . . . just try to cut my throat?"

"I'm afraid so," Brennan answered.

"He said that I was fragmented," Laine whispered. "Empty."

Brennan frowned at the boy's words, wondering if the pieces of the puzzle that made up the mystery of 'just Laine' were being put into place. There was obviously something about the boy that had guided him here, some question that needed an answer, and Brennan wondered if that was his purpose in their meeting. He shot Kyrie a questioning look from the corner of his eye, but a strange silence had descended and Brennan suddenly realised just how late it was, or just how early. "You should get some sleep," he said to Laine. "I know this is probably confusing for you, but we'll talk tomorrow all right. I mean, if you still want to stay."

Laine looked at him in confusion for a long moment before smiling very sweetly. So now there was a homicidal guy with glowing eyes in his life – he could handle that as long as he didn't have to keep running. "Okay," he breathed. For a moment the dream flashed into his mind again, and when Laine said, "Okay," again, he was a little less certain.

"You what?" the girl cried, smacking Kyrie round the head. "That's the stupidest thing I ever heard."

Kyrie was sitting at the table in the kitchen currently nursing his injured head, an irate girl in her late teens standing over him and listing every single thing that she found the least bit stupid about what he had done. Laine simply watched with wide eyes and witnessed the power that Kyrie's girlfriend had over him, the girlfriend who also happened to be Brennan's sister Arella.

"Witness the loving relationship," Brennan whispered to Laine with a giggle.

Suddenly Arella turned and was glaring at Brennan with just as much fury in her eyes, hands on her hips. "And you," she cried, narrowing her eyes. "We go out and leave you alone for one night and you get the house attacked and you use your powers and make yourself blind and vulnerable! Do I need to keep babysitting you?"

Brennan didn't look too impressed. "I'm four years older than you."

"What does that mean? You're still immature!"

And Laine was still watching the scene with wide eyes, almost afraid to say anything in the fear that Arella might turn around and start accusing him of stupidity. Instead the girl continued her tirade, and Laine noticed just how much like her brother she looked. Her hair was dark but not as impossibly black as Brennan's, resting on her shoulders and held back from her face by hair clips, and her eyes were paler too, missing the hint of red that her brother had. She was a lighter version of Brennan, and undeniably pretty.

Apparently satisfied that her scolding was done, she smiled brightly as she turned to Laine. "Right, now then," she said. "Hello there, nice morning isn't it? Did you sleep well apart from that incident when someone tried to kill you?"

"Won't let it drop, will you?" Kyrie hissed under his breath.

Arella simply rolled her eyes in a way that was almost eerily similar to Brennan. "I'm sorry about that, Laine, really. He just reacts badly when he senses something that he doesn't like. I don't know what he disliked about you, though. Such a cute little thing, aren't you?"

Laine tried to smile even though Arella decided that she wanted to pinch his cheeks like an elderly aunt would. Brennan hit her hand away with a spatula. "Stop that, Ella! He's not a baby." His sister stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm sorry about this, Laine. When I asked you to stay I didn't mean to trick you into thinking this was a normal household or anything."

Laine held back a laugh. "That's okay."

Kyrie had scared him a lot that morning; he couldn't deny it. Even now the guy was looking at him from across the room and there was something cold in the glare that made Laine shiver hard, as if icy fingers were plucking his nerves. What exactly had Kyrie seen inside of him that made a complete stranger want to slit his throat? Something about a fragmented aura . . . emptiness inside . . . He couldn't remember exactly, the thoughts were muddled up with his dream and left a dark and heavy anxiety inside of him. Brennan noticed and sighed gently, lowering the knife that he had been buttering with, abandoning the breakfast.

"Let's get out of here," he said.

It was cold. The day before it had rained hard and both of them had been caught in the downpour, but now it was just cold. The winter wind was strong and icy and embraced them, making Laine shiver hard even beneath the coat that Brennan had loaned him. It was too big for him, and the scarf that Arella had wrapped around his neck was a little too tight from her enthusiasm, but he didn't complain.

They were walking together in silence through the small town where Brennan and his sister lived, and it was peaceful. Laine never would have imagined that offering himself to Haden, being chased by something that seemed to haunt his dreams, could have led to this calmness. It was almost contentment, and Laine blushed a little at the thought, glad that the scarf covered enough of his face to hide his red cheeks. Talk about embarrassing.

"I told you that we'd talk about it, didn't I?" Brennan said quietly.

Laine looked up slowly and saw something strange in Brennan's eyes. What was it – fear of rejection? The boy watched as Brennan swallowed and turned away a little, and all he could say was, "Yeah, you did."

"I'm sorry about Kyrie."

"That's okay, I guess," Laine said. It wasn't really okay. Kyrie had tried to hurt him badly after all, maybe even kill him for real, but it wasn't like Laine was going to blame Brennan for it. And then, burying numbed fingers in his jeans' pockets, he said, "I know there's something different about you. I felt it the moment we met. Uh . . . the moment I bashed into you and landed on your lap. Sorry for that." he grinned sheepishly, but his next words were serious. "You can tell me anything."

"I'm not used to people understanding."

"Same here."

Brennan exhaled and smiled softly. "I'm a descendant."

Laine was silent for a moment. "I don't understand."

"See?" Brennan grinned.

"That's not fair," Laine cried, hitting Brennan lightly on the arm. "You can't just say something like that without explaining and try to make a point about how ignorant people are. So you're a descendant – a descendant of what?"

Brennan stopped walking and turned to face Laine, smiling softly again. In that moment the boy found himself taking all of Brennan in again, as if they'd only met for the first time, and really they'd only known each other for less than a day and yet it seemed much longer. Dark hair that blew around his face in the wind, those warm red-brown eyes and a smile that was ever-present and contagious; he was wearing a pair of ripped jeans, boots and a cream polo neck shirt under the undone black coat. For the first time Laine noticed the silver ankh that rested against Brennan's chest – that was the symbol for eternal life, wasn't it? Eternal life and immortality . . .

"I'm a descendent of higher beings," Brennan said quietly.

Laine's lips parted in confusion. "Higher beings? Do you mean angels?"

"I don't know. Guided by higher beings – that's all I can tell you. It's all I remember. My soul is very old; it's constantly being reborn into different bodies every time I die, and sometimes I have memories of those lives." He grinned, raised a hand to the ankh that he wore around his neck and gently ran his fingers over the silver charm. "Eternal life and immortality. You could say I have that."

Laine simply looked at him with pain and confusion in his eyes, the wind blowing silver-blonde hair across his face. "You sound sad about that," he eventually whispered; voice barely loud enough to be heard over the wind.

"I don't know if sad is the right word. So, you believe me then?"

"Of course I believe you," Laine said. "I know that not everything in this world is 'normal' like people want us to believe. I knew the moment I started offering myself to them that some kind of hidden door had opened up and let me through."

Brennan looked up at the grey sky for a moment before looking down at Laine again, both of them standing together on the pavement with cars driving past and everything around them was normal. They were different from 'normal' but together they were the same, and Brennan wondered if the higher powers really had guided this boy to him. Maybe he'd found someone who understood.

"Brennan," Laine said softly, "thank you. Thanks for helping me. I didn't mean to put you in danger or anything."

He was so innocent despite everything, violet-blue eyes warm even though their colour was cold, and that same colour kissing the tips of his silver-blonde hair. Brennan wasn't sure why his heart began to pound painfully as he studied the boy. Maybe it was the knowledge of what Laine would become if Haden got his hands on him.

"Laine, I -"

But Brennan didn't get to finish his words. He didn't even get to finish his thoughts because a second later he found himself being thrown to the ground, his body scraping against the pavement. That wasn't unusual in itself, but somehow he'd been caught off guard, something had broken through the shields that kept him constantly alert and now he was down on the ground and his body was aching.

"Brennan!" He heard Laine's voice, but every instinct inside of him was ready for a fight, and looking up quickly through slightly hazy vision he saw a dark creature crouched before him, grinning predatorily and completely dead and empty inside. With a growl he pulled himself to his feet and he was standing between Laine and the creature, the thing that pretended to be human.

"What do you want?"

The man narrowed his eyes. "I know what you are."

"Good for you."

He knew what they wanted, he always knew. As a descendent they were drawn to his light and it would always be his fate through every life to fight these creatures and keep people safe from them. It wasn't his great destiny or purpose. It was his own choice that put him in danger and had taken his life in the past.

"Brennan, what are you doing?"

But the creature lunged and Laine watched in horror and confusion as the two fought. Brennan was all too aware of the openness of their surroundings, and somehow he wrestled the creature off the road and into the woods that were thick and shadowed, Laine following behind in confusion like a lost puppy. Now they were hidden from any witnesses, Brennan released the enemy and took a step back.

The sky was dark and the day-shadows flickered around them, and Laine saw the creature attacking Brennan with well-practiced blows. They moved together like dancers for a moment, attacking and defending with sharp moves and kicks, ducking down, pressing forward, graceful but dangerous. Then Brennan delivered a blow to the other's chest and knocked him back, but retaliation was quick. The creature snarled and lunged, knocking Brennan flat on his back and trapping the man beneath him.

The wind was knocked out of Brennan as his back connected with the hard ground, a sickening thump reaching his ears. The creature was on top of him, but without much thought he gathered the power inside and threw it all up quickly, a mental blow that exhausted him inside but made the enemy scurry away quickly. Rolling to his side he reached for the scabbard at his waist and grasped the dagger he kept there, and his head was aching and his lungs were burning but the adrenaline was rushing inside and it kept him going.

"You know what you're up against?" he asked. "I mean, really, aren't I too much for you?"

The creature simply grinned and lunged again, and this time the dance was more deadly because with every swipe he ran the risk of being shredded by Brennan's dagger, the same strange gold and silver design as Kyrie's, Laine noticed, with the thick chain wrapped around his wrist. The creature performed a high kick, and Brennan ducked and rolled forward, and with a small noise of effort thrust his arm up and stabbed the blade right into the creature's chest where its heart was still beating. Laine cringed as he heard the sick wet slicing of metal slipping into flesh, looking away as the spray of blood began to coat everything around them. How things had changed so quickly.

Brennan saw the confusion in the creature's eyes and he hated it, but he somehow managed to drag the dagger down through flesh like a butcher and then it was all over. The body fell to the ground with a thump and Brennan was sitting on the ground breathing hard, lungs aching, head pounding and covered in blood, but worse was the feeling of disgust inside. He sneered at himself and what he had done, wiping the blade on the grass and staining it with blood that would rot away soon enough, and when he pulled himself to his feet he wouldn't look at Laine. "You see?" he said. "You could never understand."

Laine swallowed hard. He couldn't deny that his body was trembling, or that his stomach had lurched into his throat, or that there was more than a little disgust inside of him. But the look on Brennan's face was one that he had never seen before, and it was so twisted and bitter that Laine found himself biting his bottom lip and wondering how to make it go away. The creature with the human face was dead at their feet, ripped open mercilessly, and could he find himself caring? Yes, because that creature had been a real person once, but not anymore. Not anymore.

He reached for Brennan, fingers slowly closing around the other's forearm. "I don't understand," he whispered. "It doesn't mean that I can't learn to."

Brennan tensed and then turned slowly, very slowly, looking at Laine with agony in his eyes. "You don't want to understand, Laine. You don't want to be part of this world, and I don't blame you."

Laine smiled softly. "But I am part of this world, no matter what you or I or anyone else says. So please, let me understand?"

Brennan looked at him for a long moment, searching for the sincerity that he desperately wished was there. And when he found it, he grinned.

"So ghosts really do exist?" Laine asked.

"Yep."

"And where can you find them?"

"At their favourite haunts."

Laine let the words settle before he looked up at Brennan with one eyebrow raised. "Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"Yeah. Was it funny?"

"Not even in the slightest."

Arella laughed lightly as she listened to her brother and Laine talking together in the living room. She'd given Brennan a piece of her mind coming home covered in blood of course, and for letting Laine witness something so gruesome, and also for ruining his coat, but that was all she could think of at the time. It was bad enough that Brennan had killed the creature in front of the boy, but having to wait and watch as it rotted away; she cringed at the thought. At least her brother had had enough sense to hide Laine from that. Now though she was content to listen to them talking. "They really get along well, don't they?" she asked.

Still sitting at the table, Kyrie scowled. "Doesn't mean that Laine's a good person."

Sighing, Arella said, "What are you going on about now?"

"He's dark inside, Ella, don't think I can't tell. It's eating away at me and I don't like it. Some part of him draws me in. No wonder Haden was after him – he's dangerous and he's going to cause us a lot of trouble."

"But . . ." Arella protested, suddenly worried. She turned to the doorway and could just about make out Brennan sitting there smiling. "What can we do? Brennan's not going to give up on him, I know he won't."

"Yeah," Kyrie said with a frown. "That's the problem."

Inside the living room Laine was laughing, but some part of him was still seeing the blood and hearing that awful shredding sound. No matter how much he tried to put it out of his mind, he would always remember seeing Brennan push that dagger into flesh, being covered by the explosion of blood. It made him feel a little sick.

"Are you all right, Laine?" Brennan asked him in concern. "You've gone pale all of a sudden."

"Um, well I . . ." He trailed off, running a hand through his hair nervously, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. "Actually, do you mind if I go lie down for a while? I feel really exhausted for some reason."

"Oh, no of course not." There was clear concern in his voice.

Laine smiled and murmured, "I'm sorry," before leaving the room. He didn't know what had come over him all of a sudden, but as he sunk onto the bed and closed his eyes, memories and feelings began to flood his body. His dream, witnessing something he shouldn't have, been chased and then caught, having something done to him, something he couldn't remember but haunted him. And then Kyrie saying he was empty inside, and finally seeing Brennan of all people spilling blood. He bit his bottom lip hard and wondered what the connection was and why it was burning inside so painfully.

And then, as if on cue, everything changed. He recognised the slow burning inside and he groaned in disbelief, trying to fight it back but knowing what was coming and hating himself for it. Laine curled into a ball and mentally prepared himself, but there really was no bracing himself – the power physically slammed into him and once again everything was strained and aching inside, his body being battered by unseen forces, stomach knotted, chest rising and falling quickly, hard to breathe. And he tasted the blood in his mouth and the wrenching of his body and another blow slammed into him, finishing the damage it had started. Every muscle seemed to be constricting and he groaned under his breath as the pain burnt like hot electricity, ripping him apart.

Then it was over, all over as suddenly as it began, and the tugging was there instead. He moved with no control over himself as it all started again, and the power was reeling him in. Laine stepped towards the window and looked out of it, and he saw Haden standing there in the street outside, dressed in black with a cigarette in his hand, waiting. He would always be waiting.

Without a word or a thought, Laine left the room and crept silently down the stairs, his pounding heart the only sound in his mind. Slipping past the doorway like a shadow, he opened the door and stepped out into the street, away from the protection of the house, entering Haden's lair.

The door closed behind him, and there was silence.

~TBC~

A/N: Thanks very, very much to everyone who reads and reviews. Thanks to: AikoShrek, Laughing Cat, ddz008, Dream Angel, eternity-silenced, Jo, NotEnough, Tsuyuno, centi the yaoi hime and Angelic Luminescence for reading and reviewing the last chapter(s)