A Brother's Love

Lucious lay on the bed, blankets wrapped around him tight. He took a slow breth breath, scents of sex, sweat, blood tears filled his nose. But all his thoughts were on the punding right out side of his room. Blame wasn''t beside him, so he thought Blame was either pounding his fists on the wall for no reason or was too angry to come to bed. But the peace was nice, no one ravished him, no one touched him. He shivered as the pounding slowed down, and finally stoped with a scarping sound. Mabye BLame had brought someone home. He didn't know, seeing as he rarely let himself wander outside thier room, except to cook or, when Blame would allow him to sit on his lap and listen to the noises outside. Besides that, he didn't leave this room, and really he didn't want to. He didn't belong here, and according to Blame, he'd be dead as soon as he step foot right out of that door. Here he was in the first level of Hell, half angel. The first level of Hell, Blame told him was where most renagade demons stayed and where most sould of the damned seeked refuge from thier wandering. It wasn't that bad of place, said Blame but highly chaotic. So, why wander away from...well, here is wasnt't very safe, but he knew Blame would never purposely kill him....He hoped.

Rolling over, he was finally lured into sleep's arms for a very rare, peaceful night's rest.

As he woke in the moring, he was surprised to find that the left side of the bed was unoccupied, and no arms were wrapped around his waist, nor any legs entwined with his. Slowly, he rose from the bed, and pulled a pair of under-garments from the dresser before quitely making his way over to the door, and opening it. What he saw made his mouth wander up into a very small 'o'.

The wall was spalttered with blood, dried, a dark angry color just out side of the door. It started at one large gory spry-point and the rest tariled down to the unconcious form of Blame. His older brother lay at an odd angle, his neck twisted to support his head, which was caked in blood, and still against the wall. Blame had seemingly beat his head on the wall until he'd fallen unconcious. Lucious gapped at the scene of Blame lying there, covered in his own blood, for a moment before immedintly wrapping his weak arms under his brother's arms and strugglingly to pull the much heavier man to the bed.

~*~

Shaking, Lucious stares up at the man he'd literally ran into. "I-I-I'm s-so-sorry." He whimpered, and expected the man to slap him across the face. His gaze darted to one face to the other identical one of the men who stood over him, golden-green eyes staring down at him.

"Oi, look at 'em. Poor thing's shakin' like a leaf." said the one who stood to his right in a high voice with an accent Lucious couldn't place. His commard, the one Lucious had bumped into, glanced over at his twin. The other spoke again. "An' 'es wee ity bity, L. Musta jus' gotta 'way from 'es master....P'er baby."

The one refered to as L, the one who stood over him, smiled. "Let's 'elp 'em out, ay?" he said in a matching voice. " 'Er, Ity-Bity, take my han' if ya wanna us ta help." the man said, and held out a very delicate hand. Looking around, and feeling unsure of himself, Lucious bit at his lip. Should he take the complete strangers hand? Should he risked being sold or raped or killed?

Staring up at the two, he guessed they say his fear and uncerntiy for one began to talk again. " 'Es, okay, Ity-Bity. We jus' wanna help some-un who's like us. Us, or 'em." he said as he tilted his head towards a group of various rough demons, who were staring straight at them. Suddenly, Lucoius found his hand was being grasped tightly as he was pulled through the crowd, still in awe as to how his hand had ended up in this complete starngers...

~*~

Blame slowly opened his eyes, moaning softly at the pain pounding in his head. Grunting through it, he sat up, resting his cool hands palms against his eyes. After a moment of trying to calm the raging storm that was in his head, he removed his hands and glanced around the room. Sitting upon the night-stand lay a glass of water, and an assortment of pills. Greedily he took the whole handful of them, and drank down the glass. Rolling his shoulders, he sat his feet on the floor and began to make his way to the door, wondering where in the hell was Lucious.

As he stummbled into the other room, he noticed that the wall he been throughly scrubbed yet it was still pink in some spots. Pushing the feeling of guilt away, he looked around. A small sheet of milky white paper lying on the table caught his attention first, and he drug his tired feet to retrieve it. He took in a short gasp of air as his eyes scanned it. There was only one word on it, and it was Lucious handwritting, Lucious scent that covered it. Growling to himself, Blame clutched the paper tightly in his fist until his knuckles went white and his head began to throb with a new anger-induced intensity. He didn't move for almost half an hour and his anger was slightly smouldered. Then, he threw the paper back onto the table and shuffled off to his bed, the paper falling to the ground face up, as if it was trying to still anger him with a scribbled 'Sorry"

~*~

" I didn't know it's healthly fer some-un to sleep fer four days like 'em..." Andrie said quitely as his brother slipped out from the bedroom the boy had been sleeping in. Lacarda smiled at him as he made his way over to the large couch. He nodded gratefuly as his brother handed him a large mug of smoething warm, smelling slightly of ginger.

The were silent for a moment before Lacarda spoke. "Andrie, who'd you think this Blame chr'ter is, ay?"

"He's last master, I'm guessin'." Andrie whispered. "I t'ink he might have some-thin' for 'em though, wit the way 'e calls out fer him and all, like he needs em' 'ere..."

"Then maybe it's 'is lover..."

~*~