Original Fic: Dead and Gone
This piece was written for my creative writing class. And it is actually "chapter two" since there is another part (the story of the girl the main character meets) but I'm not as happy as I am with this piece as I am with that one. Plus, the one I'm posting can stand alone by itself. Maybe I'll post "chapter one" if anybody is interested (and when I go and edit it).
I'm handing this in tomorrow and if I had finished writing it earlier, then I could have used the feedback I might have gotten here on LJ but... oh well. XD Too bad for me! I'd still love feedback though, since it will always help to improve my writing! And, I must say, I have a lot of grammatical errors that aren't fixed since my grammar is not the best... so please excuse the run-on sentences and punctuation fails and such. Point them out, too, if you have the time!
I appreciate everybody who takes the time to read it! Thank you!
Title: Dead and Gone
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Violence, Sexuality, Swearing, Post-Apocalyptic (Slash... because yeah... I put slash in everything)
Summary: In a world laden with disease and destruction, survival is a struggle. Caten, now alone and lost, crosses paths with a group of survivors who have made themselves a haven in the midst a dying world.
Maybe if he had spared Noah's life, he would be the one dead right there. Instead, he sat by the dead body; a sparkling blade wedged between flesh and bones. The fight was still fresh and chased his exhausted thoughts. Maybe if he had thought for an extra second, the same knife would have pierced his own heart.
But it didn’t. It had killed his best friend instead.
No, he had killed his best friend. Caten didn’t dwell on it too long. He didn't want to. It wasn't the time or the place to grieve or think or feel. It was only time to go. So he pushed away all his exhaustion and willed his body to run.
His feet pounded against the cracked cement soundlessly. The air was almost like water to Caten to a point where breathing was like drowning. Each breath he took used up all his effort and he feared he wouldn't make it. He would have to though if he wanted to live. They would be coming for the dead, following the stench of spilt blood.
This was nothing new. He had killed his friends before. The only difference this time was there was no one running beside him, urging him on and reassuring him that he was not a murderer, more like a saviour.
Everything is going to be all right, Noah used to say. If you hadn’t killed them, well, you’d be dead too. Now I wouldn’t want that.
Caten could almost hear Noah’s laugh, as if he wasn’t dead and just laughing at him for running away. Maybe if he turned around, Noah would be there behind him. But he didn’t dare to look. He just kept on running down the deserted streets with the remains of chaos everywhere he looked. He could smell fire and death. He could see evidence of brutal fights and destruction that tore through every rotting building. Everything was still, but he knew there was once a time when it was bustling with life. And later, Caten knew this; the streets would be filled again whether with life, or what was an insult of life.
Suddenly a shot blasted through the stillness. The sound bounced around the streets like a fading siren. Stopping in his tracks, Caten almost tripped in surprise. To his left down Wester Street, an agonizing scream followed and Caten flinched. Those screams always carved a deeper hole inside of him. He hesitated. Should he keep moving forward or let his curiosity take over and check up on the shot and scream situation?
We should see what’s up, man. Noah’s voice reappeared in his head. A gunshot means a gun, and we could use that.
There was a possibility that whoever made the shot might be a little saner than the rest of them. None of them could do anything, let alone hold a loaded gun. He could finish them easily and take whatever they had on them. A pair of shoes would be nice, if they still wore them, that is. Caten was tired and his feet ached, especially the places where the soles of his shoes were thinning out from all the running he did constantly. So Caten jogged quietly down Wester Street, careful that his knife stayed by his hip. On the other side of the street, a few wolves appeared and hobbled dangerously. Caten’s heart leapt, but he kept hidden beside the rusting frames of old cars. One of them fell to the ground and then others sniffed it. They howled at its death and started to devour it. Animals were becoming desperate too, eating their own because food was either in shortage or diseased.
He had been desperate once, but Caten dismissed this thought and continued on. If he stayed behind the cars he could observe and hopefully the screams would stop and they would die, but if they didn’t, Caten would be ready with his knife. After all, screams that sounded so pained were of the dying, and it would only be right to end such agony.
As he neared the screams, he heard an engine start. It was a sound he hadn’t heard for years. Hearing this, he quickened his pace until he came into a fork on the road. There he saw half a dozen wolves with arrows punctured through and blood oozing into their fur. Further down, he saw the running truck with its exhaust smoking out fossil fuels that his sensitive nose picked up. How can there be any gas left after so many people started to steal and hoard it like it was some precious gem? It was a smell that was so constant in everyday life before that when it disappeared, everyone smelt the loss. To smell a smell that was supposed to trigger thoughts of global warming and wars and conflicts again was like time travelling to the past. He felt a high as he took another whiff of the scent. It was a relief from the usual smells of his life that made breathing so hard.
A car door slammed and the screams became muffled. Only then did he notice a girl with a blood stained t-shirt hauling in one of the wolf corpses onto the bed of the truck. She lifted the eighty pound wolf like it was a bag of feathers, swift and graceful. Another thing he missed most from life before were girls and seeing a girl, strong and although intimidating, was yet another relief from life now.
Caten crept closer, hidden still and trying to think of what to do next. This girl, she wasn’t screaming or hunched as a body of bones and rotting grey skin. She was perfectly healthy with arms that flexed dangerously every time she lifted another wolf, and skin, although burned bright red on the shoulders and cheeks, was golden and gleaming. If Caten believed in heaven and angels, he would say this girl had chosen the worst time in all of history to fall to earth
Now she is sexy as hell, Noah spoke and Caten allowed himself to smile, just a little.
Looking around, Caten saw what he initially thought was another wolf, but on further inspection, seemed to be the body of another girl. Panic set in, knowing the stench of fresh human blood would drive them near but seeing the living girl still storing up her truck with no hint of a rush calmed Caten enough to stop himself from bolting the other way. If this girl, with the strong body and bloodied shirt, could stay in the same proximity of a human corpse with no fear, it must be okay. Could it be okay?
Caten didn’t dwell too much on why but rather quickly, thought up of plan to follow this girl. Maybe she had killed the dead girl and should stay clear of any murderer but he knew what he was, too. And if she tried to kill him, he would try with equal force. The main thing was she was not infected. She wasn’t diseased or sick or near starvation. She was alive! She was human! And that was enough justification for Caten.
Finally, she had finished loading the wolves and closed the lid of the truck bed. Caten ran soundlessly towards the back just as she got into the driver’s seat. He could still hear the muffled cries between sobs and incoherent mumbles of pain. With one leap and his whole body laid as flat as he could, he landed with a thud onto the soft and wet bodies of the dead wolves inside. Luckily the movement of the truck masked his impact and he moved himself until the wolves covered him. Anyone looking down from the back window would have a hard time finding him out. He was as brown and dirty as the wolves and he has had loads of practice staying still for hours in uncomfortable places. If Caten breathed through his mouth, the stench of dried blood and dirt from the wolves would disappear and he could just be lying on a rocking bed of fur. He imagined he was back home, wrapped in his blanket and his cat poking out from under the covers just at his feet. Jeremy would snuggle into different positions until he found one satisfying enough. Usually his tail would be hooked around Caten’s toes and just the tip of Jeremy’s nose out of the covers. The two of them would sleep together, rolling around and nudging each other in sleep. It used to bother Jeremy when Caten would accidently kick him off the bed and his sleepy cat would bite down on his toes. It was never too painful because Jeremy loved Caten and only ever teased.
When Jeremy got sick, he wrapped his tail around Caten’s ankle a last time and ran away.
But that was a long time ago. All Caten could see now between the wisps of fur was the rolling grey-blue sky that eventually thinned down to a deep rich azure blue. This day was full of memories of the past revealing themselves to him. A sky that did not constantly remind him of the desolation was exciting and he could smell the fragrance of grass, just slightly overpowering the smell of decaying wolf. He wanted to sit up in the wind and look over the edge of the truck but he couldn’t. He wanted to push over the soppy mess of blood and fur and let the sun bathe him. How long until they arrived? He saw no clouds and figured it must be the end of spring. Time has a way of escaping when you’re creeping through dark tunnels and running for your life on the open streets. It slips right past you and throws monsters and darkness and blood and pain at your face, until you lose sight of it and you’re left all alone. It’s excruciating every moment Caten closed his eyes and let his mind remember. Usually he would just sleep and dream of everything that might happen to him and try to forget everything that has happened. Only until now, in years, he has allowed his mind to wander.
He was afraid, thinking the past might break down all the will and strength he had attained for the past few years. It would do no good for Caten to succumb to a heap of depression and allow death to creep up. So he hardened and became ignorant to his emotions. He let the instinct to survive make all his decisions and never thought twice about anything. He never thought too much of the future for the future was unstable. One moment he could be hiding in the protection of wolves, the next he could be a stupid oblivious sheep in the field he so longed to see again.
But now, just for a little while, Caten let memories flow into his mind for he was in the company of dead wolves He thought of his mother and how the last time he saw her, she was sleeping peacefully. The next day, she was no longer his mother. He wondered where everybody he knew was now. The truck swerved sharply. Were they there yet? Caten kept on remembering. Did Mr. Laken still take his evening stroll, waving at Caten’s now empty house? Was Amelia Goldstein still texting all his friends asking about him except for Caten himself? She wouldn’t be texting anymore. Electricity had disappeared the day his father was no longer his father. Caten used to avoid Amelia like she was the plague. If he saw her rounding a corner, he would turn the other way or fetch out his cell phone pretending he was busy texting and couldn’t be bothered to look up. Now, he missed her lip glossed smile and loud squeaky sneakers chasing after him. He wouldn’t even mind if Noah flirted with him again, however embarrassing and uncomfortable it made Caten feel.
After the day everything changed, Noah stopped treating Caten like a prize to be won but a friend to protect. Noah had shown up at Caten’s house the first day with sweat soaking his hair and had handed Caten the very knife his own death would see then crushed him in an embrace. He remembered how frantic Noah looked but at the same time determined to live. He held Caten like it was the last time he would see him. He didn’t cry or say anything. Noah just held him and Caten felt all the fear and anger and confusion leave from both of them and replaced by the firmness of comfort and understanding. Since then, Caten and Noah stayed together in whatever unfortunate place they ended up each night with hands constantly feeling for the other, making sure the other existed and were alive.
How long would this drive last? They can’t be too far from the city. His mind started to remember again. He remembered just a few nights ago, when Caten was cleaning out a wound on Noah’s face. He was scared that the dirty water they were using would only infect Noah’s cut but it was the only thing Caten could do.
“How do I look?” Noah asked. They were at the top level of an old six-story sugar factory.
“Like shit,” Caten said, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe blood off of Noah’s cheek.
“Ouch, literally and emotionally,” the other boy said, trying to pinch Caten’s nose. He laughed as Caten slapped his hand away.
Caten grabbed Noah’s face, holding it still. “Stop it or I’m not fixing it.” Noah finally stopped and let Caten continue to inspect the wound. A quiet fell between them with Noah looking at Caten as the younger boy used his sleeve to stop the bleeding. Caten could feel Noah watching but he chose to keep his eyes on his hand covering the cut. He knew what this meant but he didn’t want to think about it.
“Caten.”
Caten lifted his sleeve, seeing if the blood had stopped.
“Caten,” Noah said again. Even being so close to each other, he didn’t receive an answer. “When it happens-“
“Did I ever tell you my mom tricked me into thinking this place was a prison?” interrupted Caten. Noah didn’t answer, just kept looking on. “She would say, ‘Be good or I’m sending you to the place where little kids go to jail.’ I was so scared every time we drove by it.
“Caten, just-”
“And when I found out it was a sugar factory,” Caten started again. “Dude, I was pissed.” He let out a forced chuckle and brought the little water they had back to the cut. Before he could pour out some more to wash, Noah stopped him.
“I know you don’t want to talk about this,” Noah said firmly, trying to catch Caten’s eyes. “But it’s going to happen.”
Caten went quiet again. He really didn’t want to talk about it or even think about it. He just wanted to pretend this cut, under his palm, was just any other cut. Not a different cut. Not some cut that could change everything.
“Listen to me, Caten, please.” Noah’s voice softened as he said, “It’s going to be okay.” He placed his hand over Caten’s own on the cut.
Caten finally looked into Noah’s eyes, saw the strength in them and everything he had tried so hard to ignore welled up into a ball in his throat. His heart dropped to the first floor and Caten knew it was going to be a pain to pick up the pieces. Noah drew him into a hug, telling him not to bother with the bleeding. They stayed like that for a while. It was just them, holding each other and just allowing a moment of complete ignorance to the outside world. It was just a time to be present and not a time to think what would happen later or what already was.
“Did I ever tell you,” Noah whispered in Caten’s hair, “that out of everyone in this world, you’re the one I love.”
Caten held on tighter. “Shut up. That’s ‘cause I’m the only one left. You have no other choice.”
“That’s not true,” Noah replied, “I saw some fine looking studs out in the alley way last night.”
Caten feigned a smile and leant deeper into the embrace. He liked to think they were this way because of desperate times. That the only reason he let Noah love him was because everyone that did, was dead. If this were a different time, a different situation, Caten would never ever think of being with a man in that way. He would be disgusted and offended. Ashamed, even.
He liked to pretend he would be like that because admitting just how much he loved Noah no matter the situation was frightening.
“Don’t change, please,” Caten pleaded, grabbing a fistful of Noah’s ragged shirt. He remembered the first time Noah kissed him was just after Caten had killed a stranger trying to kill them. He had been delirious at the fact that he had become a murderer, surprised at the kiss but it grounded him. After that, comfort was hidden in small touches. It was ever constant in the fact that Noah was there.
He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to understand it or acknowledge it or think about it. He really didn’t want to. All he wanted was this. He wanted Noah to be there, with him. He wanted Noah to talk to him. He wanted Noah to laugh with him or even laugh at him. It didn’t matter as long as he was there all the time.
“You know I love you, man,”
Caten caught himself from falling any deeper into his memories. By now, he had lost track of just how long they had been driving. It could be anywhere from just a few minutes or a few hours. Time was yet again playing hard to get.
The truck finally came to a stop and he let himself for the first time peek over the edge of the truck bed. He came face to face with a kid with jet black hair looking through the back window of the truck. He froze, knowing he was in trouble now.
I'm handing this in tomorrow and if I had finished writing it earlier, then I could have used the feedback I might have gotten here on LJ but... oh well. XD Too bad for me! I'd still love feedback though, since it will always help to improve my writing! And, I must say, I have a lot of grammatical errors that aren't fixed since my grammar is not the best... so please excuse the run-on sentences and punctuation fails and such. Point them out, too, if you have the time!
I appreciate everybody who takes the time to read it! Thank you!
Title: Dead and Gone
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Violence, Sexuality, Swearing, Post-Apocalyptic (Slash... because yeah... I put slash in everything)
Summary: In a world laden with disease and destruction, survival is a struggle. Caten, now alone and lost, crosses paths with a group of survivors who have made themselves a haven in the midst a dying world.
Maybe if he had spared Noah's life, he would be the one dead right there. Instead, he sat by the dead body; a sparkling blade wedged between flesh and bones. The fight was still fresh and chased his exhausted thoughts. Maybe if he had thought for an extra second, the same knife would have pierced his own heart.
But it didn’t. It had killed his best friend instead.
No, he had killed his best friend. Caten didn’t dwell on it too long. He didn't want to. It wasn't the time or the place to grieve or think or feel. It was only time to go. So he pushed away all his exhaustion and willed his body to run.
His feet pounded against the cracked cement soundlessly. The air was almost like water to Caten to a point where breathing was like drowning. Each breath he took used up all his effort and he feared he wouldn't make it. He would have to though if he wanted to live. They would be coming for the dead, following the stench of spilt blood.
This was nothing new. He had killed his friends before. The only difference this time was there was no one running beside him, urging him on and reassuring him that he was not a murderer, more like a saviour.
Everything is going to be all right, Noah used to say. If you hadn’t killed them, well, you’d be dead too. Now I wouldn’t want that.
Caten could almost hear Noah’s laugh, as if he wasn’t dead and just laughing at him for running away. Maybe if he turned around, Noah would be there behind him. But he didn’t dare to look. He just kept on running down the deserted streets with the remains of chaos everywhere he looked. He could smell fire and death. He could see evidence of brutal fights and destruction that tore through every rotting building. Everything was still, but he knew there was once a time when it was bustling with life. And later, Caten knew this; the streets would be filled again whether with life, or what was an insult of life.
Suddenly a shot blasted through the stillness. The sound bounced around the streets like a fading siren. Stopping in his tracks, Caten almost tripped in surprise. To his left down Wester Street, an agonizing scream followed and Caten flinched. Those screams always carved a deeper hole inside of him. He hesitated. Should he keep moving forward or let his curiosity take over and check up on the shot and scream situation?
We should see what’s up, man. Noah’s voice reappeared in his head. A gunshot means a gun, and we could use that.
There was a possibility that whoever made the shot might be a little saner than the rest of them. None of them could do anything, let alone hold a loaded gun. He could finish them easily and take whatever they had on them. A pair of shoes would be nice, if they still wore them, that is. Caten was tired and his feet ached, especially the places where the soles of his shoes were thinning out from all the running he did constantly. So Caten jogged quietly down Wester Street, careful that his knife stayed by his hip. On the other side of the street, a few wolves appeared and hobbled dangerously. Caten’s heart leapt, but he kept hidden beside the rusting frames of old cars. One of them fell to the ground and then others sniffed it. They howled at its death and started to devour it. Animals were becoming desperate too, eating their own because food was either in shortage or diseased.
He had been desperate once, but Caten dismissed this thought and continued on. If he stayed behind the cars he could observe and hopefully the screams would stop and they would die, but if they didn’t, Caten would be ready with his knife. After all, screams that sounded so pained were of the dying, and it would only be right to end such agony.
As he neared the screams, he heard an engine start. It was a sound he hadn’t heard for years. Hearing this, he quickened his pace until he came into a fork on the road. There he saw half a dozen wolves with arrows punctured through and blood oozing into their fur. Further down, he saw the running truck with its exhaust smoking out fossil fuels that his sensitive nose picked up. How can there be any gas left after so many people started to steal and hoard it like it was some precious gem? It was a smell that was so constant in everyday life before that when it disappeared, everyone smelt the loss. To smell a smell that was supposed to trigger thoughts of global warming and wars and conflicts again was like time travelling to the past. He felt a high as he took another whiff of the scent. It was a relief from the usual smells of his life that made breathing so hard.
A car door slammed and the screams became muffled. Only then did he notice a girl with a blood stained t-shirt hauling in one of the wolf corpses onto the bed of the truck. She lifted the eighty pound wolf like it was a bag of feathers, swift and graceful. Another thing he missed most from life before were girls and seeing a girl, strong and although intimidating, was yet another relief from life now.
Caten crept closer, hidden still and trying to think of what to do next. This girl, she wasn’t screaming or hunched as a body of bones and rotting grey skin. She was perfectly healthy with arms that flexed dangerously every time she lifted another wolf, and skin, although burned bright red on the shoulders and cheeks, was golden and gleaming. If Caten believed in heaven and angels, he would say this girl had chosen the worst time in all of history to fall to earth
Now she is sexy as hell, Noah spoke and Caten allowed himself to smile, just a little.
Looking around, Caten saw what he initially thought was another wolf, but on further inspection, seemed to be the body of another girl. Panic set in, knowing the stench of fresh human blood would drive them near but seeing the living girl still storing up her truck with no hint of a rush calmed Caten enough to stop himself from bolting the other way. If this girl, with the strong body and bloodied shirt, could stay in the same proximity of a human corpse with no fear, it must be okay. Could it be okay?
Caten didn’t dwell too much on why but rather quickly, thought up of plan to follow this girl. Maybe she had killed the dead girl and should stay clear of any murderer but he knew what he was, too. And if she tried to kill him, he would try with equal force. The main thing was she was not infected. She wasn’t diseased or sick or near starvation. She was alive! She was human! And that was enough justification for Caten.
Finally, she had finished loading the wolves and closed the lid of the truck bed. Caten ran soundlessly towards the back just as she got into the driver’s seat. He could still hear the muffled cries between sobs and incoherent mumbles of pain. With one leap and his whole body laid as flat as he could, he landed with a thud onto the soft and wet bodies of the dead wolves inside. Luckily the movement of the truck masked his impact and he moved himself until the wolves covered him. Anyone looking down from the back window would have a hard time finding him out. He was as brown and dirty as the wolves and he has had loads of practice staying still for hours in uncomfortable places. If Caten breathed through his mouth, the stench of dried blood and dirt from the wolves would disappear and he could just be lying on a rocking bed of fur. He imagined he was back home, wrapped in his blanket and his cat poking out from under the covers just at his feet. Jeremy would snuggle into different positions until he found one satisfying enough. Usually his tail would be hooked around Caten’s toes and just the tip of Jeremy’s nose out of the covers. The two of them would sleep together, rolling around and nudging each other in sleep. It used to bother Jeremy when Caten would accidently kick him off the bed and his sleepy cat would bite down on his toes. It was never too painful because Jeremy loved Caten and only ever teased.
When Jeremy got sick, he wrapped his tail around Caten’s ankle a last time and ran away.
But that was a long time ago. All Caten could see now between the wisps of fur was the rolling grey-blue sky that eventually thinned down to a deep rich azure blue. This day was full of memories of the past revealing themselves to him. A sky that did not constantly remind him of the desolation was exciting and he could smell the fragrance of grass, just slightly overpowering the smell of decaying wolf. He wanted to sit up in the wind and look over the edge of the truck but he couldn’t. He wanted to push over the soppy mess of blood and fur and let the sun bathe him. How long until they arrived? He saw no clouds and figured it must be the end of spring. Time has a way of escaping when you’re creeping through dark tunnels and running for your life on the open streets. It slips right past you and throws monsters and darkness and blood and pain at your face, until you lose sight of it and you’re left all alone. It’s excruciating every moment Caten closed his eyes and let his mind remember. Usually he would just sleep and dream of everything that might happen to him and try to forget everything that has happened. Only until now, in years, he has allowed his mind to wander.
He was afraid, thinking the past might break down all the will and strength he had attained for the past few years. It would do no good for Caten to succumb to a heap of depression and allow death to creep up. So he hardened and became ignorant to his emotions. He let the instinct to survive make all his decisions and never thought twice about anything. He never thought too much of the future for the future was unstable. One moment he could be hiding in the protection of wolves, the next he could be a stupid oblivious sheep in the field he so longed to see again.
But now, just for a little while, Caten let memories flow into his mind for he was in the company of dead wolves He thought of his mother and how the last time he saw her, she was sleeping peacefully. The next day, she was no longer his mother. He wondered where everybody he knew was now. The truck swerved sharply. Were they there yet? Caten kept on remembering. Did Mr. Laken still take his evening stroll, waving at Caten’s now empty house? Was Amelia Goldstein still texting all his friends asking about him except for Caten himself? She wouldn’t be texting anymore. Electricity had disappeared the day his father was no longer his father. Caten used to avoid Amelia like she was the plague. If he saw her rounding a corner, he would turn the other way or fetch out his cell phone pretending he was busy texting and couldn’t be bothered to look up. Now, he missed her lip glossed smile and loud squeaky sneakers chasing after him. He wouldn’t even mind if Noah flirted with him again, however embarrassing and uncomfortable it made Caten feel.
After the day everything changed, Noah stopped treating Caten like a prize to be won but a friend to protect. Noah had shown up at Caten’s house the first day with sweat soaking his hair and had handed Caten the very knife his own death would see then crushed him in an embrace. He remembered how frantic Noah looked but at the same time determined to live. He held Caten like it was the last time he would see him. He didn’t cry or say anything. Noah just held him and Caten felt all the fear and anger and confusion leave from both of them and replaced by the firmness of comfort and understanding. Since then, Caten and Noah stayed together in whatever unfortunate place they ended up each night with hands constantly feeling for the other, making sure the other existed and were alive.
How long would this drive last? They can’t be too far from the city. His mind started to remember again. He remembered just a few nights ago, when Caten was cleaning out a wound on Noah’s face. He was scared that the dirty water they were using would only infect Noah’s cut but it was the only thing Caten could do.
“How do I look?” Noah asked. They were at the top level of an old six-story sugar factory.
“Like shit,” Caten said, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe blood off of Noah’s cheek.
“Ouch, literally and emotionally,” the other boy said, trying to pinch Caten’s nose. He laughed as Caten slapped his hand away.
Caten grabbed Noah’s face, holding it still. “Stop it or I’m not fixing it.” Noah finally stopped and let Caten continue to inspect the wound. A quiet fell between them with Noah looking at Caten as the younger boy used his sleeve to stop the bleeding. Caten could feel Noah watching but he chose to keep his eyes on his hand covering the cut. He knew what this meant but he didn’t want to think about it.
“Caten.”
Caten lifted his sleeve, seeing if the blood had stopped.
“Caten,” Noah said again. Even being so close to each other, he didn’t receive an answer. “When it happens-“
“Did I ever tell you my mom tricked me into thinking this place was a prison?” interrupted Caten. Noah didn’t answer, just kept looking on. “She would say, ‘Be good or I’m sending you to the place where little kids go to jail.’ I was so scared every time we drove by it.
“Caten, just-”
“And when I found out it was a sugar factory,” Caten started again. “Dude, I was pissed.” He let out a forced chuckle and brought the little water they had back to the cut. Before he could pour out some more to wash, Noah stopped him.
“I know you don’t want to talk about this,” Noah said firmly, trying to catch Caten’s eyes. “But it’s going to happen.”
Caten went quiet again. He really didn’t want to talk about it or even think about it. He just wanted to pretend this cut, under his palm, was just any other cut. Not a different cut. Not some cut that could change everything.
“Listen to me, Caten, please.” Noah’s voice softened as he said, “It’s going to be okay.” He placed his hand over Caten’s own on the cut.
Caten finally looked into Noah’s eyes, saw the strength in them and everything he had tried so hard to ignore welled up into a ball in his throat. His heart dropped to the first floor and Caten knew it was going to be a pain to pick up the pieces. Noah drew him into a hug, telling him not to bother with the bleeding. They stayed like that for a while. It was just them, holding each other and just allowing a moment of complete ignorance to the outside world. It was just a time to be present and not a time to think what would happen later or what already was.
“Did I ever tell you,” Noah whispered in Caten’s hair, “that out of everyone in this world, you’re the one I love.”
Caten held on tighter. “Shut up. That’s ‘cause I’m the only one left. You have no other choice.”
“That’s not true,” Noah replied, “I saw some fine looking studs out in the alley way last night.”
Caten feigned a smile and leant deeper into the embrace. He liked to think they were this way because of desperate times. That the only reason he let Noah love him was because everyone that did, was dead. If this were a different time, a different situation, Caten would never ever think of being with a man in that way. He would be disgusted and offended. Ashamed, even.
He liked to pretend he would be like that because admitting just how much he loved Noah no matter the situation was frightening.
“Don’t change, please,” Caten pleaded, grabbing a fistful of Noah’s ragged shirt. He remembered the first time Noah kissed him was just after Caten had killed a stranger trying to kill them. He had been delirious at the fact that he had become a murderer, surprised at the kiss but it grounded him. After that, comfort was hidden in small touches. It was ever constant in the fact that Noah was there.
He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to understand it or acknowledge it or think about it. He really didn’t want to. All he wanted was this. He wanted Noah to be there, with him. He wanted Noah to talk to him. He wanted Noah to laugh with him or even laugh at him. It didn’t matter as long as he was there all the time.
“You know I love you, man,”
Caten caught himself from falling any deeper into his memories. By now, he had lost track of just how long they had been driving. It could be anywhere from just a few minutes or a few hours. Time was yet again playing hard to get.
The truck finally came to a stop and he let himself for the first time peek over the edge of the truck bed. He came face to face with a kid with jet black hair looking through the back window of the truck. He froze, knowing he was in trouble now.