The Hardest Path

A/N: Right, that implied Minor warning from last chapter? Muuuuch worse now. So, read at your own risk, though I didn't go into much detail.


-flashbacks-



When Nicholas returned to his motel room, Charity was awake, sitting stiffly on the bed and avidly watching the wall-mounted television. She barely moved as he closed the door behind him, waiting for her to ask him where he had gone at this hour. It was like Nic wasn't even there. A childish, foreign giggle trickled from Charity's lips, raising the fine hairs at the nape of her son's neck. He'd never heard that sound come out of his mother before, and it made him more than a little nervous. "Mom? You okay?" he asked hesitantly, taking a slow step toward the bed. She didn't respond, other than giving him a quick glance out of the corner of her eye. When further attempts to speak to her were met with silence, Nic gave up and went into the bathroom to wash away the lingering bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

No amount of brushing his teeth seemed to help. The taste was everywhere, in his mouth, in his throat, on his lips. And the smell of the man's heavy cologne, surrounding him like a choking fog. Gagging, Nicholas stripped off his clothes and turned on the shower, water as hot as he could stand it. After he scrubbed himself with cheap, harsh soap, he felt a little better. Nic stayed under the spray, hot water soothing his stress-tightened muscles and allowing his mind to replay the night.


- Nic climbed into the car even though every shred of common sense he possessed was screaming a protest. His stomach twisted into a knot as the guy drove away from the curb, but they didn't go far, just around the corner and into a wide alley. "How old are you, kid?" the guy asked as he smoothly slid his arm across Nic's seat.

"I'm...16?" Nic tried, really looking at the man for the first time. Thinning brown hair clashed with thick, unkempt eyebrows, looking like someone glued hair to his pale and sagging face as some sort of sick joke. The eyebrows twitched together over watery blue eyes as the man frowned, wagging a meaty finger in Nicholas' direction. "Now son, you shouldn't lie." Nic snorted quietly, amused that he was getting moral advice from a guy who'd just solicited a child. Ignoring Nic's snort, the man continued, "Your age hardly matters to me. I was just curious, that's all. Let's get to it, shall we?"-


Trying to stop the rest of the memory from playing out, Nic slammed his fist against the shower wall, swallowing hard against a wave of nausea. "No, don't think about it." He tried so hard to think of something, anything else, but it was useless.


-It was the first time he'd seen anyone's equipment, besides his own. Staring in a mixture of disgust, fear, and curiousity, Nic began automatically leaning away as much as he could within the confines of the car. "Staring at it ain't gonna get you your money any quicker, son," the man laughed, grabbing the back of Nicholas' neck and trying to guide his head down. Panicked, Nic resisted, and the stranger stopped with an irritated sigh. "Do you want the money, or don't you?"

"I...do. I'm sorry." Steeling himself against a shudder of revulsion, Nic bent at the waist, lowering his head to the man's lap.-


Distantly, Nic heard his mother knocking on the bathroom door, calling his name, but he couldn't bring himself to answer her. Without even realizing it, he'd fallen to the bottom of the tub, curled on his side with his face turned away from the water. Seafoam green eyes wide, Nic stared blankly at the side of the tub as the memory sped up, hitting him like a slideshow of sounds, sights, and feelings.


-Disgusting. The slightly bitter taste of the hard flesh in his mouth making Nic want to pull away and get violently sick. Hot, sweaty hands on the back of his head, urging him on. Breathless, enthusiastic curses coming from above him, only serving to make Nic feel worse. The rage rising in his stomach again, bringing the urge to bite, to hurt. One thought. The money.

He started chanting it in his head to drown out what was happening. Without trying, Nic chanted in time with the bobbing motions of his own head; up, the money, down, the money. Thankfully, it was over quickly, the flood of bitter salt over his tongue marking the end of Nic's labors. In seconds, the stranger had brought a handkerchief to Nic's mouth, and Nic took the offer, spitting over and over. They drove back to the street in silence, the man passing Nicholas the promised twenty dollar bill, along with a small business card. "Berto," Nic read, moving to leave the car.

"Look me up if you need the cash, kid. Number's on the back."

Glancing over his shoulder, Nic frowned. "Why?"

"Why, what? Why'd I give you that?" At Nic's nod, Berto smiled. "I enjoy training beginners."

Sick to his stomach and feeling dangerously close to a break down, Nicholas stumbled out of the car and down the street, money and card still clutched in his trembling hand. He was nearly blinded by the tears in his eyes, hoping that he was headed the right way, when a light hand landed on his shoulder and spun him around. It was the redheaded whore from earlier that night, sympathy etched on her face. "It gets easier every time, sugar, I promise you that." Nic was suddenly feeling much more in control, like every emotion in him had been put on hold. Pulling away from her, Nic walked back to his motel room.-


Exhausted and shivering, Nic sat up and switched off the water, which had gone cold. He heard his mother again, still knocking and calling for him with a note of panic in her voice. "I'm coming, Mom," he replied as he wrapped on of the rough motel towels around his narrow waist. Leaving his clothes on the floor, Nic came out of the bathroom and was immediately swept up into his mother's embrace. He sighed and relaxed against her, dressing quickly once she let him go.

Nic was running a comb through the dark strands of his hair when he heard his mother gasp in shock. Alarmed, he turned to see her staring at him with a horrified expression. "Who are you?" she demanded. "How did you get in here!? Get out!" Charity practically screamed the last word, before running to the bathroom and locking herself in. She continued to scream at him through the door, telling him she was calling the police.

Tears stung his eyes for the second time that night as he realized his mother was obviously not in her right mind, cracked under the strain of all that had happened to them. Since he had no other options, Nicholas put on his shoes and grabbed his threadbare winter jacket, leaving the motel room and heading up the street, in search of more money.


A/N: How'd everyone like that? It just seems to get worse and worse for Charity and Nic. It will get better, rest assured. Next chapter, we'll see what's up with the Kagailas clan, yeah? They've been up to things, these last few years. Whew!