A Small Country

Wow - I forgot how depressing this all was...

Oh fie.


The water felt so good, each drop was like life, seeping in to Hadrian’s skin, stimulating him in ways nothing else could. He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to the cold tile under the showerhead, his hair dripping over his shoulders. He heard Sebastian banging on the door, screaming at him, but he paid the boy no attention. Sebastian didn’t understand. He didn’t walk through the fog of death that Hadrian did. Sebastian was content to live in the present, content to write about the past, dream about it. Hadrian was not.

“Please Hadrian!” Sebastian cried out, slamming his sore, raw hand into the door again. “Open this door!” He coughed for a moment, his throat scratchy, throbbing. Sebastian stepped back to give his bleeding hands a break. When he had led Hadrian into the dorm room the boy had been on another one of his rants, sobbing over death and destruction. Sebastian had tried to convince him life wasn’t all despair, he tried to convince him that there was still beauty in the world, but Hadrian would have none of it. Despite worrying that Hadrian would try something drastic, Sebastian had agreed to let him shower. That was over two hours ago.

“Hadrian!” Thinking about it again, thinking about the silence from the bathroom, from the lack of hot steam pouring from under the door made Sebastian’s heart race. He began to pound on the door once more, ignoring the screams of protest from his pained hands.

Hadrian slowly opened his eyes as he heard Sebastian’s voice again. He turned his head to gaze at the door through his matted hair; the whole wooden frame was shuddering under Sebastian’s fists. Despite what Hadrian wanted to do, despite how much suicide appealed to him at the moment, he couldn’t hurt Sebastian like that. Hadrian slowly pushed aside the clear curtain and stepped out of the tub, holding onto the wall for dear life as his feet threatened to give out on him. The moment he was out from under the shower’s pour he regretted it. The cold water’s soft hands gave way to the horrid, prying fists of the dry air around him. Hadrian reached out for the door, but it was still too far. He felt like breaking down into sobs, it was too much. He couldn’t take another step. Hadrian leaned against the wall completely; at least it was still partially frozen. The carpet under his feet was sticky, uncomfortable, but managed to hold him up as he somehow angled his body to the side and turned the lock.

Sebastian stopped pounding to lay his head against the door in despair. Through the continuous hiss of water he heard the lock click open and shot backwards, eyes wide in shock. He immediately threw open the door, not even pausing to entertain the possibility of Hadrian being behind it. Lucky for Sebastian he wasn’t, but upon seeing him Sebastian almost wished he had been. Sebastian would have preferred just about anything to the heart-wrenching sight before his eyes. Hadrian was pressed up against the wall, almost as if the room was tilted for him, as if the wall was Hadrian’s floor. Tiny droplets of water slithered down his skin in winding patterns, tousled this way and that by Hadrian’s constant shivering. The boy’s lips were blue, his teeth chattering, and behind him the curtain lay open, allowing the water to spill through onto the carpet.

“Hadrian?” Sebastian whispered as he walked forward, seeing the glazed over look in Hadrian’s eyes. He took in a sharp breath as Hadrian’s eyes slowly looked up at him, clouded over and disoriented. Sebastian quickly grabbed a towel from the hook on the wall and wrapped it over Hadrian, despite the boy’s cry of protest and pain.

“H-Hadrian!” Sebastian yelled as he felt all of Hadrian’s weight fall into him, the boy’s knees buckling under the pressure of Hadrian’s body upon them. Sebastian fell roughly to the floor, the still shivering Hadrian in his lap. Sebastian reached out and touched the pool of water on the floor, recoiling his hand quickly. The water was like ice, so cold it scolded like fire. Sebastian looked at Hadrian in fear; the filmy eyes, the blue lips; hypothermia? He quickly wrapped a hand under Hadrian’s back and found his knees, putting an arm there as well. He struggled to his feet, Hadrian’s quivering form pressed tightly to his chest. Sebastian nearly fell over as the added weight caused him to stumble backwards off-balance. Once regaining his footing he leaned forward a bit and carried Hadrian out of the bathroom, dripping water in a frozen trail as he went.

Hadrian was vaguely aware of the hands on him, he wasn’t even sure where he was anymore. Apathy had set in; he didn’t care. He saw flashes of color, but the objects they clung to were out of focus, spinning before Hadrian’s eyes. He quickly closed them out, shielding himself in a world of blackness as he felt hot wind brushing past him, bringing him out of his numb state of cold. As Sebastian laid him on the bed he let out a small cry of pain, for the warm air was beginning to dry on his skin. The heat made him aware of just how cold he was. He tingled all over, an unpleasant sensation like needles in each and every pore. Hadrian tried to curl up into a ball but he couldn’t command his body to do so, he could only lay and shiver as his hearing began to clear. He heard Sebastian’s quick-paced and panicked steps back into the bathroom, heard him turn off the faucet. A strange ring then filled his ears, a ring that he couldn’t place, so he finally opened his eyes to investigate.

Sebastian cursed as the monotone beeps greeted his ears once more. The line was busy, the only time he ever needed the nurse and the line was busy. He began to shake in fear and desperation as he slammed the phone back down into its receiver. He crossed an arm over his chest, bringing the other up to rub his face. He had heard of hypothermia, he remembered learning about it when he was just a child, but he couldn’t remember what the signs were, couldn’t remember how to fix it. As he tore his eyes from the floor to Hadrian he realized that those thoughts weren’t important. Had Hadrian known what he was doing? Had the boy realized he’d been standing in a cold shower for over two hours? Sebastian started slowly towards the bed and sat down next to Hadrian, feeling a constricting pain in his throat.

“Hadrian can you answer me?” He asked quietly, afraid to touch Hadrian, but terrified of not touching him.

Sebastian’s words were slurred, but musical. Hadrian closed his eyes, wanting Sebastian to keep speaking, keep singing to him, but the words stopped. It was a question Sebastian had asked, but Hadrian didn’t know the answer. He opened his blue lips, tried to speak but only managed a moaning exhale. He licked his lips slowly, sending a stinging pain through his mouth as his chattering teeth closed briefly upon his tongue.

“S-speak.” It was the only word Hadrian could think to say.

“Speak?” Sebastian repeated, relief flooding his voice as he turned and slowly began to rub Hadrian’s arms. He had seen people do it on TV; rub their victims’ arms to stimulate heat, or something like that.

“What would you have me speak, Hadrian?”

“W-words, words… words.” Sebastian let out a slight cry as Hadrian continued to speak. Relief enshrouded him completely; easing off the weight and worry that he had bore for the last few hours.

“Words.

“The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms,

“Black as his purpose, did the night resemble

“When he lay couched in the ominous horse,

“Hath now this dread and black complexion smear’d

“With heraldry more dismal. Head to foot

“Now is he total gules, horridly trick’d

“With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons,

“Baked and impasted with the parching streets,

“That lend a tyrannous and a damned light

“To their lord’s murder.” Sebastian paused, scanning his memory for the next line. He wasn’t sure exactly why he chose this particular bit, but it was the first thing that came to mind, and if Hadrian wanted words, Sebastian was going to give him words.

Hadrian listened quietly as Sebastian’s voice once again sang in his ears. Sebastian always had such a way with words. No matter what he was saying his charismatic voice made it the most interesting thing Hadrian had ever heard. Sebastian memorized whole plays, and performed them like a well-trained actor years later. Hadrian let a slow smile spread his pinking lips over his face. The pain in his limbs and fingers was beginning to diminish, his shivering had all but come to a halt in his tranquil moment of rapture.

“The Aenid.” Hadrian whispered gently, turning his head to the side to look up at Sebastian. “You always did prefer it over the Iliad.” Sebastian’s face was trying to force a smile through the worry that twisted it. Hadrian shivered again. His quakes were violent and so sudden they nearly tossed Sebastian from the bed. Hadrian clenched his jaw shut tightly and tried to stop the quivering in his limbs, but he couldn’t, and it was beginning to send stinging pulses up his spine.

“Don’t, Hadrian. You need to let your body do its job. It’s only trying to warm you up.” Sebastian sighed, watching Hadrian stiffen up. “Hadrian, I- I think you might have hypothermia.” Sebastian tried to collect his thoughts, but his mind kept shouting the question over and over again: Had Hadrian known what he was doing? Sebastian shook his head. He had to concentrate. Looking over at Hadrian he noticed that the boy was still dripping wet, and appeared to have not even heard Sebastian, maybe drying him off would help. Sebastian stood and walked into the bathroom. He reached over the sink for his towel, but paused as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. There was a thick layer of condensation on the glass. As it began to drip off Sebastian noticed something written beneath it. With a worried look over his shoulder at Hadrian, Sebastian backed up to read the scribble. It looked as if Hadrian had been planning on writing something, but changed his mind and drew his fingers over it, making it illegible. Sebastian sighed and turned off the light in the bathroom as he left, towel hung over his arm.

Hadrian lifted his head off the pillow just enough to see Sebastian as he walked into the bathroom. Hadrian began to wish, not for the first time, that he did more for Sebastian. The boy acted as if he was Hadrian’s slave, giving and giving without a single complaint. He never asked for anything in return, and always did what he was asked with a smile and a nod. The thought filled Hadrian with a deep self-contempt, how could he do that to a soul like Sebastian’s? How could he presume to have that sort of power and influence? He felt like an arrogant bastard, ordering Sebastian around and never thanking him for the things he did. Hadrian’s neck began to shake and his head hit the pillow, bouncing a few times as he continued to dwell on those thoughts.

Sebastian turned his head to look at the clock on the dresser by Hadrian’s bed. The blinking green lights read 9:15 pm, forty-five minutes until curfew. Sebastian walked back to the bed and sat down slowly, not wanting to disturb Hadrian. He looked at the towel in despair, then back up at Hadrian, trying to figure out the best way to continue. He knew that Hadrian’s skin was probably tender after such an ordeal, and didn’t want to cause him any pain, but he had to do something. Sebastian slowly gathered the majority of the towel in one hand, then with a corner began to gently dab Hadrian’s face and neck. He drew the towel under Hadrian’s eyes, those melancholy eyes that Sebastian had come to love. He drew his towel to Hadrian’s jaw, but was stopped by Hadrian’s cold fingers on his wrist. Sebastian let out a gasp, feeling his heart jump into his throat, a jolt running through him as if he’d been shocked. He looked from Hadrian’s fingers to the boy’s eyes.

“A warm bath.” Hadrian whispered, his voice rough, weak. Sebastian stared at him incredulously, still as a stone statue. Hadrian made a small chuckle in his chest; it was a delightful but hollow sound.

“Don’t you remember anything, Sebastian? You’re supposed to dip hypothermia victims in a luke- warm bath.”

“You want a bath after standing in a shower for over two hours?” Sebastian sighed, piling the towel in his lap and folding his hands over it. He stared at his hands for a moment; they were shaking, wet and nervous.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Hadrian.” He looked from his long hands to Hadrian’s pained face.

“I won’t drown, Sebastian, I promise.” Hadrian said with a sadistic smile on his lips. “You can even come in to baby-sit me, if it’ll make you feel better.” His voice was strained, he was trying to be funny, but it didn’t come out that way. He couldn’t remember how to add inflection to his words, so all that came out was a monotone drone. Hadrian’s lips curved into a frown as Sebastian looked away and nodded. The boy leaned over, one hand on Hadrian’s other side to support him, and left a soft, sweet kiss on Hadrian’s forehead. Hadrian’s eyes fluttered slowly closed as Sebastian’s lips left his skin, as his departure upset the bed. How could Hadrian treat him so horribly? Sebastian never asked questions, never said no. He always knew the right thing to say, he was always doing little things like rubbing Hadrian’s shoulders when he was studying, or bringing him breakfast when he was sick. Hadrian felt the hole in his stomach grow as he heard Sebastian turn on the water in the bathroom. He slowly eased himself into a sitting position, wincing as his shivering form tried to beat him down. Hadrian’s eyes fell upon Sebastian, crouched over the bathtub. One of his hands was under the faucet, turning this way and that in the steady stream of water; the other was adjusting the knobs as needed. Hadrian’s body gave out and he fell onto his back once more, closing his eyes at the pain. Through his guilt he promised to do something to show his appreciation to Sebastian.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Damn girl, you’re good!”

“I do have a badge, Cassius. What, did you think it was just decoration?” Tanisha’s disembodied voice hovered and echoed in the dark halls.

Cassius chuckled as he leapt off the staircase to the hard marble floor beneath. He and Tanisha, the blond junior, were deep into their heated Camelot match. They had migrated from the deep city to the Thurian Runes, a once beautiful castle that a group of hackers had nearly destroyed. The castle, once the most popular spot to hold important parties, was now the best site in all of Camelot for a match. The one remaining tower of four, standing over the seven rooms of the bottom floor, provided a mysterious backdrop for all sorts of combat. There were once three staircases, but the only one intact was the double one, which led into the tall, tilting tower. The marble floors were littered with huge stones, rubble, and debris from the once magnificent structure.

It was under the double staircase which Cassius now held refuge. He gripped his sword tighter, relishing the smell and feel of the leather, as he heard Tanisha start back up. He had just led her up a winding path into the tower, where he had managed to corner her. After a smirk and an apology, he drove his sword into her chest, taking one of her lives before dashing down the stairs to wait for her. Cassius lifted his sword to his lips and kissed it with a huff of breath. Tilting his head back to touch the stairs behind him he couldn’t help but smile. Broadsword matches always gave him a rush; the challenge and the call for skill, something about it was a drug for him. When his foe was a female, a particularly skilled female, it only made the challenge sweeter. He loved strong women, especially attractive ones who weren’t afraid to show off a little skin. Maybe he would let her win this time; give them a reason to have a second match.

“Yaah!” Tanisha cried as she leapt off the staircase into a perfectly executed back flip. As she stood back up she pulled a small dagger from her belt, and drove it through Cassius’s shoulder. She gave him an arrogant, side-ways smile and blew him a kiss. There was little she enjoyed more than sneaking up on people like that, than seeing their surprised, wide eyes. She gave the dagger a little twist, just for effect, as she saw Cassius realize her checkmate.

Cassius, once he was able to think coherently again, let out an annoyed breath. He felt his arm vibrating, the hum filling his ears, and knew that the muscles being prodded would numb his arm until either he died, fixed it, or logged off, which would cost him points. He rubbed a finger on his sword, wondering what his chances were against this Amazon.

“So, did I win? Or do I have to take your last life?” Tanisha whispered, shouldering the huge, loaded crossbow she’d just pulled from her belt. She moved forward a bit, lifting her eyebrows in a suggestive manner. If they called quits on the match they could retire to one of the city’s hotels. Thanks to the VR technology they could enjoy some of life’s most precious pleasures, without worrying about the consequences. God how she loved these rings.

“Did you win? I’d say-“ Cassius paused as a loud noise joined his blurring vision. There was a sudden and sharp pain to his head, as if he’d stood up too fast and hit the roof. After an electric-like jolt through his body he found himself back in his VR console, dumbfounded. It took his eyes a moment to clear up, and when they did he saw Rune holding his VR helmet in shaking hands.

“Cassius!” Rune shouted, then threw the helmet to the floor, fell to his knees and took Cassius’s hand in both of his. Rune couldn’t think of the words to say, couldn’t think of anything but the horrible images the newscast had burned into his memory forever. His shoulders shook under the pain in his throat; he couldn’t hold back his sobs much longer.

Cassius made a small noise as he was pulled to one side by Rune. He stared down at his brother, confused and bewildered. He knew Rune as only a brother could; it took a catastrophe for Rune to show his emotions so plain like this. Cassius slowly dragged himself out of the console to kneel by his brother, wrapping his arms over the boy’s shoulders. He slowly looked up at Brandon, whom he had just noticed, and knew by the stony expression in Brandon’s eyes that the news was far from good.

“What happened?” Cassius asked plainly, his voice hollow and strained. Cassius didn’t want to know the answer, but for it to affect Rune in such a way, Cassius knew he was somehow involved. He rubbed his hands gently over Rune’s back as he waited with baited breath for Brandon’s reply.

Brandon’s already painful frown deepened on his face, but he said nothing. He had never suffered anything like this, and thus couldn’t bring himself to give Cassius news that would affect his life in ways Brandon couldn’t even begin to imagine. He looked away from Cassius’s empty, searching eyes in despair. Cassius had to know, and Brandon knew he would prefer to hear it from a friend, rather than from a stranger, yet still he could say nothing.

“He’s dead Cassius!” Rune cried out suddenly, still pressed tightly to Cassius’s chest. “His console malfunctioned, he and President Denmark are dead!” He began to shake all over, as the wound ate its way into his conscious. Doubling over he gave in to the sobs he had tried so hard to subdue. He knew when he had heard it that it was true, he knew it but refused to believe it. Now he was telling it to Cassius, and by speaking the words he had made it true, he had drove the dagger deeper.

‘He who?’ Cassius almost asked, but he knew. He knew by the way Rune sobbed, by the helpless look on Brandon’s face: His father. His father had died. Cassius’s body suddenly gave a jump, and he felt hot tears in his eyes, a gripping hand around his throat. He tipped his head down to rest in Rune’s sweet smelling hair, dug his fingers into his brother’s shirt and pulled him even closer. It was like he was stuck in someone else’s nightmare: this couldn’t be happening to him, to Rune.

Brandon took a small, awkward step forward, unsure of how to proceed. He wasn’t as close to the brothers as he knew he should have been, and he had no idea what to do for them now. He didn’t want to come off as cold by standing back and not offering any comfort at all, but he didn’t want to seem presumptuous and arrogant by joining them on the floor, as if he knew the pain they felt. He lowered his gaze, but tilted his head towards the hallway as he heard steadily approaching footsteps.

Tanisha turned the corner slowly, frightened by the possibility of what may lie in the room. She straightened up a bit as her eyes fell upon a strange scene: Cassius was on the floor embracing a younger boy, and they were both wracked with sobs. Her eyes were drawn to the third occupant of the room as he turned and began walking towards her at a slow pace. She shook her head a bit, baffled by the sight. She had never seen a man cry like that, and it made her wonder what had happened to bring forth such a reaction, wrenched her heart to think of the possibilities.

“Is everything ok? What happened?” She asked in a soft whisper to the somber-faced man.

“Family business, not good I’m afraid.” Brandon whispered as he turned to look back at the brothers. He knew he had to tell the girl something, recognizing her as the girl that Cassius had left the bar with, but Brandon didn’t know just how much Cassius would want her to know. There was a long pause, and he turned to look at the girl.

“Tell him I’m sorry. We’ll have to reschedule.” Tanisha said, wringing her hands in front of her in attempt to take her mind off the uncomfortable situation, the tense air. She gave the man a short smile, trying to lighten the mood, but it didn’t work for her, and she had a feeling it hadn’t helped with this man’s burden any either. She heard a sudden rise of hoarse whispers down the hall, and with a nod to the boy, turned, suddenly intrigued by the noise.

Brandon watched her go, ignoring the fleeting thought of flagging her down for her name. He turned back into the room, pausing a bit as he noticed Cassius’s dead eyes locked on his own. He felt a shiver run down his spine, the hair on the back of his neck, his arms, beginning to stand on end. It was a vile, hollow look on Cassius’s face, one Brandon had never seen before.

“Go and tell Hadrian.” Cassius whispered, his voice like a stranger’s voice, far away and unfamiliar to his ears. He dipped his head back down slowly, staring at the floor as another tear fell the length of his face. He heard Rune let out another heart-wrenching sob and tightened his arms around him. His mind screamed at him not to let go, to hold on forever to what he had left.