Forbidden Memories

KC spun as he heard the growl, if he had felt worthy to smile at the protectiveness he would have. Blinking as he was dragged from the diner, surprised he was able to keep up on his ankle, as he stood there looking slightly down at Damion, mouth opening to say something. Then suddenly a loud snap, falling to his knees, forcing himself not to cry he was tougher than that. His ankle had snapped again. God, it wasn\'t like he could stay the fuck off of it - he needed money and food and he\'d do what he\'d have to do to get it. Struggling a moment he managed to get himself back on his feet, sheer will power. Even through the pain he felt as intense as it was, as he looked at Damion all he wanted was to hold him again, to remember just for a little while all those minutes he had forced himself to forget. \"Of course I wanna....\" his voice was strained and the water coating his skin wasn\'t rain, sweat ran down his cheeks and face. Good Ol\' KC though always the strong one, or at least way back when, ignored the pain and waited to be pointed in the right direction.

Eyes narrowed as he fell, The youth darting forwards and grabbing KC before he hit the deck. \"Oh you *dumb* Fuck, have you never heard of Saint Peter\'s hosptial? It\'s a damn *free* house you dumb ass bitch...\" Fall and Damion, Damion and Fall. They were much the same, but with different prioprites. Seeing KC was like seeing Slate. It merged the two together, Damion\'s outgoing, slight need to be adored and be cared for by caring and adoring need merged Fall\'s self-confidence, power, and knowledge that he was always right and the whole world belonged at his feet. \"For cryin\'...You\'re fuckin\'...Oh jesus. I\'m taking you home and dealing with this. It\'ll be...weird. But...\" He paused, and eyed KC, stepping in beside him and wrapping one of his arms over his shoulders, taking his weight. Then concentrated on the house. And fwam, they were there, Fall shifting and setting KC into a plush, opulent chair, acting like they had just walked all the way there. Then he pulled over a table and a cushion and put the damaged foot on. \"Fuck man, i though you were smarter than walking around on a fucking busted ankle...\" Being angry, that made things easier. Fall tore off the shoe, the sock, and ripped half his jean off exposing the ankle in one swift moment. He\'d done that kind of thing before. It was a talent. \"For fucks sake...You\'re screwed that up. You\'re *damned* lucky I know the people I know. *Damned*...\" He stood up and moved over to a box, snapped it open and pulled out a small bottle of pills. \"here, take these. They\'ll relieve the pain instantly and start the healing process. I\'ll get some bandages for some support. You better not be hurt anywhere else...else I\'ll...Ass the rape the guy that did it to you with a fucking sledge hammer....\" A growl and the youth ducked out the room. They room he left KC in was his personal dresser room. A vanity, a huge wardrobe, a beautiful bathroom through the doorway, and everything was painted in purples, black and whites. beautiful room, really was.

He tugged off his thread bare shirt hoping the bruises on his ribs were gone. Luckily his wrist had healed. Yeah, quite a number had been done on poor KC, because after the one dude showed up two of his buddies joined in. Shaking his head....nonono he didn\'t want to remember. He took the pills as he was ordered to do and lay there in the chair. God, how long had it been since he had been in anything this comfortable. Forever ago, back when his parents were alive and his grandparents gave a damn about him. Wincing in pain again a moment before the pill kicked in. Unable to help himself he called out \"Why do you care so much anyway?\" Hell it was a vaild question and he felt he had every right to ask. Damion had been his world, his reason for living. Then one night poof he was gone, no good bye, no I\'ll be back for you. KC for the longest time held on to the belief that Damion would come back to him, that he loved him or at least cared enough about him to keep him around. But as the years past he realized he was holding on to a dream that didn\'t exsist. Even tried to kill himself a few times and was never successful. Sighing softly his hand lifted to run through his short brown hair.

He heard the question, pulling the bandages out the bathroom cabinet and padding back through, lifting the foot and bandaging tightly. He didn\'t answer. He\'d avoid that question for as long as he fucking could. \"It\'ll take about two hours to heal that, I guess. I mean, Zaile *can* do instant healing, but he\'s gotta be there to do it. Some sort of magic, demi-god, thing...\" he waved a dismissive hand. \"You\'ll have stay there, sit there.\" Avoiding the eye contact, avoiding it. He\'d asked Cyn if he could go back to see Spike and KC and Sazzy and all...he. It was just. His. Cyn had, Cyn had got jealous and when Cyn got jealous, or frightened, he tended. Drastic measures and all that. He swallowed nervously, eyes squeezing shut. Sazzy\'s head with a whole through it. Blood splattered on Cyn\'s white hair. He\'d assumed he\'d...that everyone had been there and Cyn had. It was difficult, hard. Teeth pulled at his lower lip and he headed to the door. \"You\'ll be hungry and thristy. What do you want?\"

Frowing he sighed and looked away from him. \"Nothing, I\'m fine.\" Of course that was a lie, but now all the other memories were coming back, pain, blood - broken limbs. Carmel eyes lifted to Damion\'s \"Do you know that after you disappeared Spike came after me?\" Without thinking his hand fell to cover the white scar just a bit past his naval. A scar that hadn\'t been there when Damion had seen him last. His eyes closed and he shivered all those nights hung upside down by the ankles getting whacked on like a fucking pinata. KC used to have two gold caps in his back teeth, they were gone now. Again that little head tilt - his hand darted out to grasp Damion\'s bringing it to his lips and kissing the knuckles softly. Releasing it just as quickly. Old habits he supposed, he couldn\'t think of another valid reason he had done what he did. A blush touched dirty cheeks. And though he was dirty - he oddly enough was happy for the first time in a long time. There was a spark of the old KC as he sat there in the chair looking up at Damion with that quirky little smile of his.

Fingers curled into a fist, teeth biting his lower lip as he turned away. \"Well, you won\'t need to fucking worry about Spike anymore, will you? Fucking....\" He growled and stepped back, nose crinkling. \"Cyn, he....Well the man wears white a lot. Lets say he didn\'t come home white, shall we?\" Tongue flickered over his lips and he turned, looking over his shoulder and padding back, crouching down and folding his arms over the arm of the chair, baby blues fixing onto Carmel. \"How about I make you that eggy bread stuff we used to make during the summer on roasting hot bin lids? Only with proper eggs and bread that isn\'t moudly, and in a pan with mustard and pepper rather than...well. Suateed with dust? Then once your stuff you should be able to bear a little weight on that ankle and \"We\'ll get you in a nice warm bath will we?\" A brow raised, tongue darting over his lips. Things were weird, akward, but..well. You know. Alright. It was better knowing KC was alive than assuming he was dead. Sometimes he\'d dream of him and wake up in a cold sweat. Thank god Cyn had never known how close he and KC had ever been. Else the man would\'ve slit KC throat. He adored Cyn, but his possessiveness was...sometimes, delicious. Sometimes difficult to handle.