To Trust A Cop

Beta: working on it
Warning: violence, abuse
Notes: Sorry for the long time no see. I understand the agony of waiting for it in such a situation like this.


51

He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t get her out of his head. It felt like a too real nightmare. Her hollow eyes. The blood. The echoes of her screams. Squall shuddered and burrowed deeper in the bed.

He was back in the room he had been held in. He had no notion of time, again, but he thought he had been carried back sometime during the early morning. He had been more or less unconscious but once he was awake again he couldn’t find rest.

He couldn’t stop remembering what he hadn’t avoided seeing. During the abuse under the sadist he had too many times watched the dead body. Her eyes had been wide and open, mouth slack. There was still pain in her face, even in death.

It was strange, really, that he couldn’t remember much of the murderer’s abuse and overuse of him but he could remember her. The youth clenched his eyes hard but her hollow eyes and ashen skin only turned more vivid.

Squall lurched from the bed. Barely did he reach the bathroom and toilet before he hurled up what little could leave his empty stomach. There was nothing left to throw up but his stomach made the cramping movements and he heaved and coughed up stomach acid. He sobbed brokenly once his body stopped cramping.

He couldn’t banish her from his head and he wondered if he’d ever be able to. He didn’t even know her name. She had looked like a nice girl. She had tried to help him. For what? Why had she done it? Hadn’t she known what could happen?

He wanted home. He wanted to forget and he wanted it all to be a bad dream. It wasn’t happening. The last weeks hadn’t happened. He was in reality sleeping fitfully in his bed and at any moment Seifer would wake him up. The cop would tease him about his silly nightmares and then molest him until Squall went crazy with the odd burning arousal the cop could make him feel. Squall sobbed again and clutched his hair as he curled up to the wall by the toilet. Gracious Hyne. It was just a bad dream.

Somewhere deep in his mind he understood now. He wouldn’t survive. He wouldn’t leave this mansion alive. He would be next. Seifer wouldn’t save him. This wasn’t a movie where the brave hero rescued the victim in the nick of time and the villain was killed or jailed for life. This wasn’t a happy ever after fairytale. The sooner he realized and accepted the reality of the situation, the sooner it would be over. Probably.

Who in their right mind would let Squall go when the brunet had witnessed such a gruesome thing? Still, as he sat there and let the time go, he couldn’t fully crush that tiny hope of rescue.

His thoughts wandered. At some moment he dully thought of Quistis. What was she doing? What was she thinking? Had she reported him missing? Had she even investigated why he didn’t show up at their appointed time? Or did she think he had just quit without a word? It made him sad to think that she would think that. It must surely hurt her after everything she had done for him.

Then he of course thought of Teo. Though the teacher had contact with Seifer and ought to be able to talk to the cop. Would he tell Quistis then? Squall hoped he would so that she wouldn’t have to feel hurt.

His thoughts was implacably drawn to his own fate. Would he get the same treatment as Her? Or would it be much faster? Would it hurt to die even if it was done by, say, a bullet? Squall shuddered and felt ill again. But he had to prepare. If he imagined all ways possible, he thought it wouldn’t be as bad as if he didn’t. Still… He didn’t want to die. Vehemently did not want to die.

He was thinking of the day they had taken him. What if he had gotten the keys to his bike? He’d kick the big gorilla in the nuts and dashed for the garage. Once on his bike they would never have caught him. He’d drive all the way to Winhill and stayed there. It was a nice sunny place where he was sure he could nestle down.

Squall jolted and franticly looked around him. He had fallen asleep and his neck, back and buttocks screamed bloody murder. Squall made a soft groan as he tried to work out the kinks. Not a good place to be sleeping at.

“You could come out from there or I could come get you,” a less than amused baritone barked.

Squall froze solid. What? He sat perfectly still. Was that what had woken him? Someone entering the room without him even noticing? Had he imagined the angry voice? But then he heard the sharp footsteps approaching the bathroom and he tried to quickly gain his feet. He almost fell over in his effort since everything seemed to still be asleep.

The door was yanked open and young Almasy glared down at him. Icy eyes pinned him and held him as if he’d been held down by invisible hands. It was inhuman to have such pale blue, icy eyes. Like the ice on a lake. Top it off with the hair and Squall wondered if maybe the youth wasn’t some kind of mythical creature.

The said eyes narrowed before they swept over him. They, however, lacked the lust Squall had seen on other occasions. There where blue-green-yellow spots in the otherwise handsome face. Squall shuddered at the anger in the other since it was justified. The brunet felt his stomach knot. Would he get a beating for that stunt in the shower? Or something more? Why was Serano there to start with? Where was Seraph? Squall couldn’t decide who of them he rather be alone with.

After the look over, the other smirked maliciously.

“I see you didn’t get anything near what you deserve. Or does that bathrobe hide something else?” Serano smirked.

Squall raised his head some. He had not been either whipped or spanked if that was what the other youth asked. He had been beaten. Smacked around and punched like it had been some sick form of foreplay or middle play or whatever you called it. It had, in any case, turned the sadist on. He kept staring up at the tall youth and wondered if he was supposed to do something.

Serano suddenly left the bathroom entrance and stepped closer. Squall couldn’t stop himself from taking half a step back and cringing as big hands rose. They gripped the edges of the robe and tore it open before yanking it down his shoulders. Squall stood frozen as the blue eyes racked his bruised and marked chest.

Squall was littered with marks from both nails, teeth and sucking. He knew because he had seen them and felt some of them being applied. He flinched again as a large hand cupped his chin to stroke a thumb over cracked lips. The brunet’s mind told him to shrug free, to bite the stupid thumb. But his stomach and knees said something else. He just couldn’t make himself move. Maybe, if he acted the boring victim the other would leave in tedium?

Squall hissed as his hair was fisted harshly to hold him still. The other large hand started harassing a swollen nipple. Contrary to Squall’s hopes, his passivity only aroused the other youth. The more familiar lust entered the frosty blue eyes.

“I was planning on getting you back for that stunt you pulled, but since you finally seem to understand your place I can be reasonable,” Serano purred.

Knowing his place? What place? Squall’s teeth ground down in sudden anger. Like a subdued victim? He wasn’t. Refused to be. Still he couldn’t quite act on the anger more than glower hotly at the taller youth. Serano chuckled at the glare he received.

“You know, you’re kinda cute when you’re angry,” Serano purred.

The youth then had the audacity to bend down as if to kiss Squall. The brunet hissed and started twisting and struggling to avoid the unwelcome mouth. His hair was fisted harder and the other hand circled his back to press him closer to the large body. Squall’s heart was starting to hammer and his breathing race. He refused to acknowledge the fear in his chest. He did not want this.

His ear was sucked and bit and his buttock suddenly squeezed. All his twisting and feeble struggling only made the other hold him harder and soon enough press the hardened length against him. Squall’s stomach coiled and almost did he give in to the fear that wanted to strangle him. So what if the bastard got the fuck that had been interrupted before? At this point it couldn’t really matter. Except it did. Serano suddenly straightened and forced eye contact.

“If you give me a really good blow job I’ll forget your previously bad behavior,” he smirked.

Anger lit in the brunet. Did he really think Squall would fold for that? Serano couldn’t be allowed to seriously harm Squall now, could he? Fine beat him, force him but like hell Squall would willingly do anything.

“I refuse,” he said simple and it made the other chuckle.

Squall hissed as the hand around his buttock shrugged in under the robe and a couple fingers roughly pushed inside his way too sore anus. He had to bite his tongue to keep from making sounds the pain and discomfort caused.

“Want to continue what you so rudely interrupted in the shower then? Although this does seem a bit lose and sore,” Serano leered as he twisted his fingers, “Or perhaps you’d like that more?”

Squall made a growl and put nails in the hand holding his hair. He didn’t put enough strength in it, but the icy eyes turned from amused to angry and the hand molesting him stopped in favor of catching his hand.

“Let me go. You’re seriously deranged if you think I enjoy your filthy touch ,” Squall growled.

He almost expected the spark of anger in the blue eyes to turn into something painful, but the shapely jaws clenched a couple times. Then the bastard smirked.

“It wasn’t all act in the shower. You’re a sub slut who loves taking cock. You actually enjoy when someone rapes you, don’t you? Of course, it shouldn’t be called rape since you still want it,” he said darkly.

They stared at each other and Squall found his insides fuming and boiling. His old, warmly welcomed, rage seeped back like a spring flood. However, he knew he couldn’t hurt the man. He wasn’t strong enough in his current position. The realization made him even more furious and frustrated. He had to resign, hadn’t he? He just had to accept being beaten and raped because he wasn’t strong enough to hold the bastard off.

It infuriated him and the frustration was almost enough to bring tears in his eyes. The least he could do was ruffle a few feathers.

“You know what? I feel sorry for the poor woman who first had to fuck your sadistic bastard for a father and then carry around a dirty scumbag like you for nine months. I applaud her for surviving that long or maybe she got really well paid,” he hissed acidly.

Squall wasn’t quite prepared for the reaction he got. Ice blue turned dark with rage and the fist came flying out of nowhere. Squall didn’t fall to the floor since his hand was still clutched in a iron grip. It left him defenseless for the almost mindless beating he got.

When he finally did fall to the floor it was instinct that made him curl up and protect his head for the kicks that jarred bone. Once it was over he was gasping and coughing and his ears were ringing. Everything hurt. He couldn’t breathe properly and didn’t dare move. He was forced up by a strong grip in the bathrobe. He stared into the snarling face of Serano. It was like looking into the face of a beast.

“Thought you was witty, did you? Let’s see how witty you are after I split you apart huh?” the youth growled almost incoherently.

Squall whimpered as he was dragged along like a doll. The anger was gone again and replaced by the chest constricting fear. Too soon he was bent over the edge of the bed and held down by one hand while he heard the rapist try to free himself with the other. The brunet fisted the bed covers and tensed in preparation though he knew he shouldn’t. It couldn’t be much worse than anything he had experienced under Seraph.

“Serano,” a cool voice broke the air in the room.

Squall could feel the youth freeze poised above him. The brunet didn’t think it was possible, but the fear twisted his stomach harder. Suddenly he was released and it took a while before Squall was able to slip of the bed and onto the floor. Serano stood quivering just behind him, big fists fisted so hard the knuckles were white, breathing labored to the point of running. Squall didn’t look up high enough to get a glimpse of the face. Seraph stood just inside the entrance and Squall didn’t look there either.

“What?” Serano barked out angrily.

Seraph Almasy walked inside and the platinum haired youth actually flinched half a step from Squall. Squall flinched too as surprisingly gentle hands made him look up. The hard green eyes where as empty of emotion as Squall remembered. Or maybe he just couldn’t get past what he had witnessed. Seraph let him go and just stared at his slowly calming son.

“I was just having some fun. It’s not like you haven’t,” Serano growled out but in a much more controlled voice.

“I believe… we made it quite clear before that you aren’t capable of handling a creature like this. Much to willful for you,” Seraph said in a flat disapproving voice.

Squall was a very silent and a still shadow by their feet. He didn’t care about his humiliating position, he just had the fervent wish that they would leave. Serano was breathing harder again and his fists retightened.

“I’m truly disappointed, Serano. I thought I had taught you better than this,” Seraph said calmly, icily.

Squall didn’t see but thought the older man made a dismissive gesture. Serano made a strangled sound and marched out. He didn’t close the door and soon a loud crash resonated through the house and a long tirade of barely muffled curses. Seraph sighed. Squall flinched as a hand was around his arm to help him up. Against better judgment, the brunet shrugged it off.

The pain that stabbed through his battered body made him wince. Still he stood on his own and stepped away from the suffocating proximity of the sadist. He corrected the bathrobe with trembling hands. He had now decided that he very much wanted Serano back. Rather the impulsive, ranting rage and the mindless beating and rape than the forced presence of this… this man.

“Serano has… temper issues. Although I can’t fully disapprove of his work. You’ll look marvelous this evening,” Seraph purred.

Squall shuddered, the ice in his stomach turning colder. Tonight already? Was he being taken down there tonight? Or would it be like any of the other dinners? He certainly wouldn’t refuse a dose of that drug this time.

“Seifer is coming.”

The three simple words brought such sharp attention that it hurt. Squall snapped his head up to stare at the man. Seraph was amused and studied Squall as much as Squall studied him. Seifer was coming? The hope, the unbelievable relief he felt was almost enough to make him weak kneed. Then Seraph chuckled and Squall froze again. Had the snake lied? He almost backed away as the man slowly stepped forward and cupped his jaws.

“Let’s behave and show how much I’ve taught you, no?” the blond purred and there was odd excitement in his eyes.

Squall wanted to ask what that was exactly and just how he was to behave. He was wiser than opening his mouth though. Nothing was made better by the knowing, cunning glitter in the dark green eyes. Squall was released and then the man walked out and closed the door silently.

As if strings had suddenly been cut from his arms and legs, Squall fell down in a heap. His heart was hammering, skin clammy, breath labored. So much had happened in such a small span of time. He didn’t want the hope, the relief, flooding his system and yet there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Seifer was coming. The words echoed in his head and he clutched at them like a lifeboat. Seifer was coming.

*****

He had a very clear memory of himself saying something like he’d have to be dead to return to this fucking mausoleum… Yet here he was and yes, his heart was still beating strong and his lungs still worked perfectly against all odds.

Seifer’s hands clenched and unclenched in time with his jaws clenching and unclenching. He glared at the building as if it would somehow make the shit fall into pieces. Of course it didn’t. It was solid stone and concrete and steel in some part. Built like a bloody fortress with a nice surface.

The big doors opened all the way, he almost expected a red carpet come rolling down the few steps. Instead two servants posted themselves at either side, ready to serve. Seifer took a few more deep, deliberate breaths. Get Squall, get out. Stick to the plan. Stick to the goal. Don’t get side tracked or this could end very badly. However, his carefully collected calm and control was quickly ruffled as he saw the tall man waiting just in the shadows of the house.

The blond marched forward, ignoring the servants silently holding out their hands for the clothes and ignoring the guards that probably hid some heavy artillery under those expensive looking suits. Seraph stood a few feet from the stair that hadn’t changed. Legs spread, both hands on that bloody cane, smirk in place.

Seifer gritted his teeth and reminded himself that turning this into a fight wouldn’t help his cause. He stopped when he didn’t dare go closer for a lot of reasons. One and main, this was the minimum distance for him being able to draw Hyperion. Two, that bloody cane could only reach so far and unless the sadist had changed it Seifer ought to be far away enough to dodge it. There were more reasons but he didn’t let his conscious mind contemplate them.

The doors closed and the sound of it was as ominous as he remembered. They stared at each other and Seifer had to give it to the other, he hadn’t changed much. Perhaps a few more lines as proof at his age. Everything else was as he remembered.

“Welcome home, brother,” Seraph purred.

Seifer sneered, he couldn’t help it.

“If I had the choice I’d burn the damn place to the ground,” he snarled back.

Seraph sighed and shook his head with that expression as if he was humoring a child.

“It is fortunately then it is not your choice, no? The dinner ought to be ready in a few moments.”

The older man gestured in the general direction of the dining hall if it was still where Seifer remembered it to be. He sneered again.

“Yeah, right. Get Squall here in less than two minutes or this will turn real nasty,” he growled.

The smirk that stretched Seraph’s lips made him want to draw Hyperion. He knew that smirk. Had seen it plenty of times to feel ill at the sight.

“Squall’s at the dining table. Now, don’t be such a child. I haven’t seen you for years, a little catching up wouldn’t kill you,” Seraph said calmly, very reasonable.

“Why don’t you and Seifer catch up on old times while I and Squall go someplace nice and safe?” Teo suddenly spoke up.

Seifer didn’t glance at the man but was grateful he’d brought him. At his other side Zell stood still and quiet. It was good. Meant he was deadly focused. Seraph only kept that small smirk. He had some sick game prepared and he’d be damned if he didn’t get to play it. Seifer had known it would be like this. As long as his brother had Squall, Seifer wasn’t brave enough to do anything rash like follow his gut instinct. It should have bothered him that the safety of one single person could chain him down so much, but it didn’t.

“Fine, I brought a snack, let’s dine,” he growled and made his own smirk.

The house seemed unchanged. He could swear that not even a painting or carpet had been changed. He wondered what his father’s study looked like. Certainly Seraph had changed something in there. Perhaps torn it to pieces and bricked close the door.

They was led to the middle dining hall. The one they had used when they had had friends over for dinner or any such trivia. It too was as Seifer remembered it with the white marble columns, floor and expensive furniture and art. The long table was made for seven person, every chair prepared. It made Seifer vaguely suspicious that there were more persons coming, but perhaps Seraph hadn’t know who would follow Seifer into the den. Then his stomach was sucked out through his feet.

At the corner, next to the left head seat, Squall sat. Blue-grey eyes looked up and met his and the rest of the world turned a funny grey/red/green strange whirling thing around him. The youth was scared wide eyed. He had almost black bruises under his eyes. There were more bruises. Red/purple/green bruises along his jaw and cheek bone and his lips.

Seifer barely registered what the brunet was dressed in, everything he saw was what the clothes hid. His fucked up mind couldn’t decide what he’d see under the clothes. Bloody scares? Bruises turned black from the force behind the punch? Other marks done by some mystifying object? Seifer flinched as pain bit into his arm.

“Easy,” Teo hissed through his teeth.

It was first then the blond realized he was almost hyperventilating and his tunneling vision was either sign of one of his rage spells or a fainting spell. He didn’t look at his brother since that surely would make him lose what little reason he had. He looked back at Squall. The youth hadn’t changed expression. He was still wide eyed like a scared child, still stiff like a piano string and still staring solemnly on him. He couldn’t lose his composure. Not yet. Later, out of sight.

Stiffly he forced himself to walk forward while blanking his mind. He knew better. He knew what kind of beast he was dealing with and yet he’d played straight into its paws from the moment he stepped through the doors. Seraph sat down at the head seat, leaning the cane close by. Teo was wise enough to put himself next to the sadist and opposite Squall. Seifer was going to sit down to, however reluctant, as he got a good sniff of the perfume the bastard had practically drenched the youth in.

It shouldn’t have affected him so visibly. He tensed and unwanted memories and buried emotions rushed up. Had Seraph known just what the smell would do to him? Seifer almost didn’t manage to suppress the onslaught in time to stop his body from reacting by instinct. He continued his motion to sit down. If anyone had missed his odd stop they’d had to be blind. His hands were shaking.

Squall was still looking at him. Seifer stared back. It made him feel ill to see that look of plea. As if he was trapped in a deep hole and finally the rescue team had gotten down to him. In a sense the blond guessed that was how it was. Seifer slowly looked at his brother. Seraph had obviously been studying him and there was that silent, cold amusement in his eyes. Since no one seemed to have anything to say, the atmosphere was silent and heavy.

Thankfully the food did arrive in a few moments. Seifer barely registered the smell, too preoccupied to figure out what his brother might be planning. Why this… charade? If it wasn’t just to see how much pain he could cause Seifer. It could be that simple. His stomach knotted imagining just what other sick games the sadist could conjure up.

“Where’s that sniper of yours? Hiding in the west forest?” Seraph suddenly asked lowly.

He was pouring wine for his guest. Squall tensed even more as his glass was put down full of the heavy, red liquid. Seifer didn’t care to wonder how Seraph knew of Irvine. It was just a fact he had to accept.

“Perhaps,” he agreed.

“That’s unfortunately,” Seraph continued as he put down Teo’s glass.

Seifer stiffened. Irvine was cunning enough to smell a ambush or something else silly. Seraph ought to know better than try to ambush a sniper.

“A few of our dogs escaped this morning. They ran west,” Seraph smiled.

To anyone else the statement might sound weird. Seifer knew exactly what it meant. He knew what “dogs” the bastard was talking about. The imports from “Island closest to Hell”. Those fucking half bears that had been so insanely breeded for ferocity they where little less than insane monsters. No one could handle them. Even the handlers had to always have a wall of some kind between them and the dogs. Seifer took a deep breath. This was ridicules. It shouldn’t affect him since he knew Irvine and knew the sniper wouldn’t be hiding somewhere in easy reach for a dog.

“I hope they were really, really expensive. They’ll make nice cat food if you find them though,” he sneered.

Seraph chuckled and handed him a glass of wine which Seifer refused to even look at. It was placed at the table followed by Dincht’s. The man’s dark green eyes turned to Squall and one finger tapped the table close to the glass. The order was obvious and it made every hackle on the blond rise and he almost barred his teeth like a beast.

“You might be too stupid to notice, but Squall doesn’t drink,” he growled.

Blue-grey snapped to him and there was something odd in them.

“You’d be surprised what you can teach a person by using the correct methods. You’ve been sloppy with him,” Seraph chided.

Seifer shot to his feet, chair tumbling. His hand was at Hyperion and he thought that perhaps it was only Dincht’s iron grip that stopped the drawing of the dangerous weapon. Seraph hadn’t been late to respond, however, the cane rested against the very delicate neck of the brunet. Seifer still saw red. His heart was pounding against his ribs, blood pumping furiously in his ears and his breathing felt too heavy for his lungs.

He knew this state. Knew he couldn’t succumb to it or he’d lose Squall. He had to get a grip but it was too hard when what he loved was being threatened and tarnished.

“Let’s end this. You just back the fuck off and we’ll leave,” Seifer growled through clenched teeth.

He thought he could make good on that deal, as long as he got his hands on Squall. Teo slowly stood up, but wasn’t really in the way, Hyperion had a gun. Seraph sighed and shook his head, but the act didn’t reach sharp, cautious glittering eyes.

“I’m disappointed, Seifer. I thought you would have managed that temper already,” the man said disapprovingly.

Hyperion shivered in her sheath as Seifer fought to draw her and Zell didn’t relent. Seifer would chop his head off, later.

“Why don’t I, Squall and Dincht leave you two alone for a while?” Teo asked almost serenely.

Yes, do that. Give him free way to the sadistic bastard. Seraph chuckled but he didn’t look away from Seifer. It occurred to him then that there were more people in the room. Guards with a dozen or more guns pointed at them.

“I think you underestimate the situation here. If I have to point it out… You have no power here,” Seraph purred and there was almost a tone of lust there.

Seifer sneered. No power huh?

“You seem to forget, brother,” he spit out the word like venom, “that I sit at the ninth seat. In fact, I have a meeting with Mr. Shansho tomorrow first thing. Imagine what could happen if I suddenly disappeared.”

It seemed that finally in his rage he got his head straight on. He had to start thinking again. There were things Seraph desired more than to cause them pain. He didn’t want to lose the cartel or his wealth and power. The shift in hard green eyes told Seifer he had finally made something right. It lessened the pulsing red haze somewhat. He forced his fingers to unlock around the comfortable hilt. Zell let go the moment Seifer relaxed however the martial arts fight fisted his own hands loosely instead.

The cop wasn’t scared of all the bullets because of them three, it was Squall. They had body armor closest to the skin that would stop a pansar bullet. Squall did not.

“I… guess you have a point, little brother,” Seraph said but with that dead, monotone voice he used when annoyed or seriously pissed off.

It was hard to tell since he was as livid as stone.

“Good, then get the fuck away from him and I’ll not chop your bloody head off,” Seifer growled yet through his teeth.

Seraph did get to his feet, cane still at that delicate neck. Squall seemed not to be breathing where he sat stiff as a statue. The sadist stepped behind the brunet, easily placing himself where Hyperion’s gun would be of no use. The youth was dragged to his feet.

“Run along then, little one. Go to your master, I’m sure we’ll meet again,” Seraph almost cooed without taking his eyes from Seifer.

Seifer was distracted. The urge to maim was suddenly overruled by the urge to get his hands on his way too delicate looking artist. Squall walked stiffly as if he didn’t quite trust the sadist which was just healthy. Once he got past the head seat Seifer couldn’t stand it anymore. He met the youth half way and wrapped his arm about the thinly dressed waist.

It should scare him silly how that simple touch sent his head spinning with relief. How his priorities suddenly turned fully and all he wanted was to get Squall away as far and as fast as possible. He gave Seraph one last acid glare before he led/carried the stiff brunet from the room.

The guards made room after some silent command and Seifer was aware that Teo and Zell swiftly followed. He could feel ribs under his hand. They hadn’t been so easily felt before. Squall was making a great effort to keep up with his longer strides but it was obvious it was difficult for him. He was breathing strangely and Seifer dully wondered if it was fear or damage.

The red haze almost came back, but he shook it off. Away. First get Squall to safety, then he could break down if he wanted to. They came to the entrance hall and Seifer barely paused for the servant’s to open the doors. The car was where they left it since Teo had the keys.

The car blipped once saying it was open. Seifer didn’t wait to turn around and see who watched their retreat. He opened the backdoor and Squall dove inside without being urged to. Zell was already in the front seat and Seifer and Teo closed their doors simultaneously.

It was first then Seifer really studied the clothes the brunet wore. Satin blue pants that rode low on his hips, a golden chain as a belt. He had a nice blouse or whatever you called that. It all made Seifer feel sick. It was so far from anything Squall would ever wear. The brunet was staring out the window, hands burrowed in the seat.

Seifer didn’t think, he dragged the youth closer and held the trembling form hard. The perfume was sticking in his nose and he tried to get past it to the smell that was uniquely Squall. The brunet was still drawing small, sharp intakes of breath and he seemed stuck in the stiff state.

The cop dragged his hand along the ribs, counting them. He easily felt a hipbone too. Hadn’t he been feed? Although it was more likely Squall hadn’t eaten. Seifer relented and gave a deep sigh before resting his chin in the soft brown hair. Squall surprisingly pressed closer. He was still stiff and he was still trembling.

It felt weird sitting in the silent car like that. No one spoke and he was grateful for that. He was even more grateful that the youth didn’t withdraw because he wasn’t sure if he would be able to let go.


Author’s Note: One more chapie…

Oh and a couple chapters back I got a review which I haven’t responded to yet.

The review was left by the nickname “Ravenesque” if anyone wishes to find it. First off, if you don’t like a serie why keep reading it? Maybe you’ve stopped reading at this point? I don’t mind a flame or two about the fiction and its content, but something that I take great offence with is the implication that I would think stuff in this story is ok in real life.

That last insinuation about my person was hurtful and a mood killer.

I love reviews, even a flame is ok, but please people. Think twice before you send of a review that talks about the author of it.