Forbidden Memories

He couldn\'t help but laugh softly. It was very obvious this was difficult for Damion, that made KC feel a bad though to be truthful it was wonderful to see the other again. Nice to know he wasn\'t dead. His eyes closed, sleep threatened, the chair was far too comfortable. Forcing them open a smile curled his lips. \"Yeah, that sounds yummy.\" Playfully he stuck out his tongue. Even through everything, KC had managed to keep that boyish attitude. \"And a bath sounds wonderful.\" Then the words struck - struck him hard someone had killed them, that\'s why they hadn\'t been back to that alley, because they were dead. That\'s why he was all alone. A frown replaced the smile. \"You mean that because of you all of them are dead? Because of you I was left in that blasted Alley alone?\" Slight bitterness echoed in his tone. He began to shiver a full body shiver. Something that happened only when he was trying to surpress emotions. It had happened quite a bit when he would see Damion after Spike finished with him. \"Because of you...\" came out in a low whisper. KC wasn\'t sure what he wanted to do, cry or scream or just slump over. Now his gaze lowered to his hands and he fell silent.

Damien, that was, well. It was why his name had changed, really. He\'d always been very self sufficent, but never physically strong enough to be the leader of the gang, or whatever. Which is generally why he slept with them. And when a stronger one came along, well, fuck, what was a boy supposed to do? And not only that, Cyn had swept him off his feet, literally. And metaphorically of course. \"I talk in my sleep ok? And Cyn, Cyn....he\'s a jealous guy. He\'s...\" Head dropped he took a step back. \"What the fuck was I supposed to do? The man can swat me aside like a fucking porceline doll. And break me three times as fucking easily. Yea, I\'m going to stop him when he gets it into his fucking head to kill people. You should just be greatful he doesn\'t know about *you* else you\'d be fucking \"Pushing up the damned daises just like them. \'Sides, not like you couldn\'t have got in with another gang, or started your own, or...done something other than wallow in the cuntin\' ally...\" Nose crinkled and he turned and left the room, heading down to the kitchen. You know Fall, he said his peice, and well, frankly. That was it. He said it with passion, just like he tackled everything else in life. Down into the kitchen he lifted the frying pan and got about four eggs. Oil, bowl, break the eggs and he began to batter them, eyeing the white kitten that was padding up to his feet and mewing softly. \"Hey Yarn...\" It was the kitten Coral had got Fall for christmas after realising Fall had never had a pet in his life.

He just mumbled under his breath. What the fuck? Never would he understand anyone in this damn world. Spike had been right, Damion didn\'t give a fuckin\' rats ass about him. And that, well frankly that hurt. Forcing himself to stand, wincing a bit at the twinge. Walking very slowly to the kitchen door he stood there and watched the one he had known - the one he no longer knew. Nibbling his lower lip he stayed silent, eyeing the cat a moment. Shoulder leaning against the doorframe. Tears threatened, but he pushed them back. Heaven forbid Damion ever saw him as weak and far too sentimental. \"Maybe I should just go...\" Carmel gaze settled on the youth, part of him was glad to see he had grown into more than a street rat. Yet, the part of him that loved Damion more than life itsself hated that exact same fact. Hated that he was no longer needed or seemingly wanted for that matter. His hand lifted to run through his dirty hair. Tongue darted out to lick his suddenly dry lips. Fingers stuffed back into his pocket. He wanted to speak, wanted to say things that had been bottled up for years, but they words were stuck, locked in his throat. His eyes closed and in his mind he saw himself work up the courage to tell the boy he loved him, but of course it was all in his imagination and there was only silence.

\"And you\'ll fuckin, what? Go back out on the streets and scrape a damned living in the mud? Aye, right. You\'re better than that KC. I\'m gonna get Cyn to give you job, doing. Something. I dunno. He\'ll find you a job doing whatever you wanna do, a nice house, good food, great clothes....\" The youth turned away, teeth biting down on his lower lip. \"Christ. I though you were dead. Think imma let you go off and die after I just found out your not? Are you fucking *stoned*?!\" He beat the eggs with a fork, and then took a slide of bread and dipped it in, turning it over. \"Now sit down. You might be able to walk on that ankle, but it\'s still prone. For gawds sake, sit down before I fucking *make* you...\" Tongue flickered over his lips, the bread in the pan sizzling madly, the kitten reaching and pawing at Fall\'s pant leg. Baby blues flickered briefly towards KC. Then away. \"I couldn\'t have come back you know. Not after they took me away. Cos they\'d have just come back and taken me away again...it was better that I. It was easier if I\'d just...you know. I...\" The youth trailed off, turned away and carried on with the making of the eggy bread.

\"What the fuck does it matter, I\'ve been on the streets all this time and managed fine. You think I could handle this? God blessed, I was better off thinking you were dead, because now...\" he fell silent, it didn\'t matter. None of it fucking mattered. Pushing away from the wall he moved back to the chair, one foot curled beneath him, the hurt ankle back on the table. Heart pounding and breaking all over again. God. Pain. Ache. Should be used to those things by now, but he\'s not. Eyes slipping closed, one single tear rolled down his cheek slowly leaving a salty trail behind. Curling his arms around himself, thoughts forcing into his head, how many folks had his Damion, and who had him now? A gasp slipped past his lips, no. Not going to think about that. None of it. Just forget it. It all hurt too much to think about. Eyes still shut, lips formed in a pouty frown. Just as adorable as always even though at the moment he was unaware of the frown. Gulping. Biting his lower lip yet again, some how tasting faded kisses on them. \"Stop it KC.\" whispered past those so familar lips.

He left it 10, fifteen minutes. Then meandered back into the room, and setting a plate down on KC\'s lap. \"What do you want to drink?\" Fall was all ready for a screaming match. Screaming matches he could handle, blazing rows which involved the smashing of furniture, things being hurled across the room -- normally Fall-- he could handle. Knew where he was with those. His father, Spike, Slate, Zaile and now Cyn. Those he knew where he stood with. Oh, don\'t get him wrong. The last two had been tender at their moments. Cyn espically. Cyn had cried for him, which is more than any of the others, save KC, had ever done. Tenderness confused him, the youth never knew where he was with it. He paused, eyes fixing onto KC. He wanted to hurt him, to chase him away. But he also wanted him around. It was confounding. The youth took a step back, hand pulling thought his hair nervously. It was glossy and healthy, shimmered over the lightly muscled shoulders, which were gorgeously tanned too. \"Look. I\'m sorry. I\'ve done what I\'ve had to do to get what I want, to survive, to live. Look at you, you won\'t survive to the end of the year. Hell, you wanna go back on the streets after I\'ve fed you, off you go. I\'m just trying to help an old friend out...\" Another step back. \"So...whatcha wanna wash that down with?\"