Broken Shards of Peace

Chapter Two

Black-market hold, five days after Harry arrived.

Laine was making his rounds, checking on the other children. Harry trotted along at his heals. Ever since he had healed Laine they had been inseparable. They didn't talk much, but when they did, they only spoke of things they liked. Laine learned Harry loved being outside and looking up at the sky, going to school and learning, vanilla ice cream, and bright colors. He smiled at the memory.

flashback

"What's your favorite color?" Laine asked as they lay, trying to fall asleep.

"Ummm...I like the color of the sky lots. And the green of trees. Oh, but then there's that yellow that Ms. Hedley wore that one time. That was a good color. And white! Like the stars!"

He laughed and hugged the boy closer; "They're all your favorites, huh?"

"Yep," Harry giggled. "All but black and red. They're good colors, but I don't love them so much."

end flashback

Love. Even now, that casual use of the word surprised Laine. It made him want to scoff. There was no such thing as love. And over something as stupid as color? But Laine hadn't said anything then and he didn't want to now either. Something inside him told him it was the perfect word. The boy really did love colors. He loved a lot of things. He even loved Laine.

Laine felt light and happy knowing that. He didn't want to ever leave the small child who needed him so much. Somehow the boy had gotten him to love him back. Laine wanted to stay by him forever and protect him from all the pain and filth he knew was in the world, but he couldn't. The boy would be leaving when his new parents came for him; even before then Laine still had a job to do.

He had been called up twice since his friend had healed him. Each time he came back with injuries from the Master playing with him. But Laine only let Harry treat the ones that were especially bad. He didn't want the small boy to collapse again and he was very careful not to let him see the other children who were hurt. It wasn't that he didn't care, but they would survive and he needed his green-eyed friend to do the same.

The hold door opened and the Master stood glaring down the steps; "Laine, where's the England boy? The one with dark hair and green eyes?"

Harry looked around his friend and up at the stairs. Laine smiled sadly. It was time for his friend to go to a better place and leave him alone in the darkness. Harry took a step out from behind Laine and looked up at the other boy questioningly.

"Follow me," Laine told him and took his hand.

Both naked, the two boys climbed the stairs. They walked behind the man down a narrow hallway and passed many doors on either side. The ship swayed underneath their feet. Harry had been terrified when it had stormed yesterday, making the whole ship rock violently. It took Laine holding him tightly and explaining that they were on a boat to calm his fear. He'd never been on water like this, but once he understood he had become curious instead of fearful. Now he'd get to see more!

The man opened a door for the two boys to enter the room. Two men and a woman were waiting there and one gestured Harry further into the room. Harry walked past the Master and his head barely reached the man's waist. He looked around happily; glad to be out of the hold even if for a little while. The room was brightly lit with a huge window open to allow light and air in. He stared in awe at it and wished desperately to be given the chance to look through.

"Look who we have here," the woman smiled. "You're a cutie."

Harry blushed and looked down. A cold breeze brushed by him and he shivered, wishing he had clothes, even Dudley's old ones. But he was too afraid to ask.

"Come over here, boy. We're going to take your picture," one of the men said and gestured for him to stand on the table.

Laine's head snapped up from his submissive position and he stared at the man who held an expensive camera. His heart pounded fiercely and his blue eyes began to ice over with terror. "Is this for the mommy and daddy who want me?" he heard the boy's small voice ask. He looked at the boy who had given him so much, the only one to ever love him, and watched the nightmare unfold.

Harry couldn't reach the table that they wanted him to stand on and there were no chairs. He looked to the closest adult. It was the second man and he happily lifted him onto the wooden surface.

"No. They got pregnant and don't need a brat no more," the photographer answered absently as he worked his camera. Laine gasped, not noticing the owner looming behind him, watching his very move.

"You're very skinny," the woman tisked at Harry.

"Some like it that way," the other man said happily.

"Looks like he'll die of starvation soon. I can see every single bone in his body."

"Smile, kid."

Harry looked away from the arguing adults and back at the camera. He'd never had his picture taken before. He looked carefully into the round glass end and smiled his biggest smile. Laine felt tears burn his eyes and roll slowly down his cheeks. God. That smile. He'd never seen such a beautiful smile and it would be smashed by these bastards.

There were several clicks and Harry was asked to turn around. He was about to obey when the man beside him reached out and grabbed his arm. Harry bit his lip as he was soundly smacked on the bottom. He wanted to cry out, more from surprise than hurt, but Aunt Petunia had taught him better than that.

"That's better," the man grinned and turned him so that his back faced the camera. "Give you a bit of color."

Laine felt rage rise in him. He wanted to rip the man's arm off for touching his friend in such a manner. Instead, he gritted his teeth and clenched his fists as tight as they could go. He couldn't do anything for the boy with all the adults in the room. They'd be caught and punished if he tried. No. He had to wait. Wait for the right time and get himself and his friend out of this place.

"Laine." The Master smiled and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Come with me."

He spun around, having forgotten the Master's presence. He looked up with wild eyes, but quickly masked his expression. The Master couldn't become suspicious. It would be the worst thing that he could allow to happen. So he bowed his head and nodded. He could hear his friend calling out to him as he left, but he didn't turn around or answer.

"Wait! Where's he going?" Harry asked the woman.

"Here," she sighed as she lifted him off the table. "Go sit in that chair and I'll feed you before you go back."

Harry reluctantly let the matter drop and did as he was told. Despite his worry, the two Happy Meals she gave him disappeared quickly. He was always hungry and didn't feel like vomiting since Laine had been taking such good care of him. She even refilled his water for him when he drank the first glass. Best of all he could just see out the window if he sat straight. The sky was very blue and the water sparkled under the bright sun. Shivering with cold, but very happy, Harry ate his meal with vigor.

"Alright. That's enough. We do have other work to do today," the photographer snapped.

"Come on, kid." The woman took his hand and led him back the way he had come.

"What's the pictures for?" Harry wondered. "Where did Laine go?"

"The pictures are to show people what you look like so they can decide if they want to buy you. And don't worry. Laine will be back down."

...

Black-market ship, six days later.

Harry waited anxiously with five other children his age. They stood washed clean in a line. They were in the same room they had taken his picture in, but this time the window was shut and a curtain was across it. Harry was glad. It was night and very cold. All of them shook with it, but it was nice to get out of the dark hold even for a little bit. He hoped he would get to see Laine as well. His friend had never come back. He was very worried.

The door opened and a well dressed man walked in. The hold Master stepped in as well and gestured the other two adults from the room. Harry watched the owner, wondering if it would be okay to ask about Laine. His attention was drawn away when the well dressed stranger stepped forward and grabbed his chin, tilting it up.

"Scrawny bunch, Raymond," he said, but his hazel eyes didn't leave the emerald orbs before him. "But...This one is beautiful none-the-less."

"Put a little weight on him and he'll be perfect," the Master agreed. "We've only had him eleven days. He's completely clean and untouched. Worth a good seven grand, wouldn't you agree?"

"He's skin and bones. Who knows if he'll live long enough to be fattened up? And there is still the possibility of internal damage. No more than four."

"That's outrageous and you know it." Raymond glared angrily and the other children cowered back, beginning to cry. Harry had no such option, his face still in the grip of the potential buyer. "No less than six five."

"I'm a good customer. It wouldn't be wise to over-inflate the price. Five five and that's my final offer."

"Damien, you drive a hard bargain. But it's a deal."

"Good. Have him dressed warmly while we finalize the purchase."

Raymond nodded and opened the door. The man and woman from before stepped in. The man herded the others back toward the hold and the woman came to Harry. She smiled at him and showed him the warm clothes she held. Harry marveled at their feel against his skin.

"You look precious," she beamed and kissed him on the mouth.

Harry burned red and looked shyly at the floor. She laughed, but fell quiet when the door opened. The rich man was back. He looked Harry over and a slow smile spread across his face. He strode forward slowly. Harry looked up at him with wide, curious eyes. His mouth opened in an 'o' of surprise when two strong hands reached for him and lifted him up onto a hip.

"Come, boy. It's time to go to your new home."

"Ummm..."

The man looked down at him, "Yes?"

"Can Laine come?" he asked very carefully.

"Laine? No. I'm sorry, but I only have room for one boy. Don't worry. You'll learn to like it there."

Harry said nothing more. The sharp look the man's eyes warned him that pressing further would be a very bad idea. He frowned and lay his head down on the man's shoulder to hide his silent tears. He didn't see the wolfish grin this action brought forth. Raymond did and felt pleased. He knew he could have gotten more for the boy, but Damien was a good customer and the boy was trouble with his own pet. It was best to get rid of him quickly.

The Master turned the opposite direction as Damien and headed for his cabin. It was large and luxurious. It was his favorite place in the world, even more so when the corner was occupied. Laine stood there with his hands stretched far over his head, his wrists bound. His body was bruised from his games and blood coated his skin from fresh lashes.

"It's time to get back to work, Laine. Your punishment is over." He smiled as he ran a hand up the battered body.

Laine crumpled to the ground as the owner untied his wrists. He grit his teeth against the wave of agony that followed. He didn't know how the bastard knew he had become attached to one of the kids, but he prayed that it wasn't too late. He had to get the green-eyed boy out before he was bought.

He staggered down the hall and almost fell down the stairs to the hold. He stood panting, trying to slow his heart and breath. A sharp spike in the pain made him wince. He took a step forward and smeared the wall with blood as he pushed off. The children were all silent. None came foreword to greet him. Dark anger burned at his mind, the boy was gone. The owner, for he wouldn't even think of the man as Master ever again, had done all this on purpose. The bastard had held him until the boy was gone.

"Tell me," he growled. "Someone tell me who bought...the green-eyed boy." He wished he had a name to call the kid. How could he have forgotten to ask his name?

"A...A big man with brown hair and hazel eyes," a child spoke up from the brat group. "Five of us went up with him...but the man barely looked at us...He went right for 'im."

"His name."

"D-Damien."

Laine fell to his knees. No, not Damien. The man was infamous for buying kids and training them, then selling them off for extreme amounts of money as skilled sex toys. Laine clenched his eyes shut against the memories of his own training; the manipulation and preparation that led up to him being raped for the first time, led up to his first kill. He had to get the boy out of that. He wouldn't let that happen to him!

...

Apartment above Club Slasher, two days later.

Harry felt something. It was uncomfortable and pulled him reluctantly from a deep sleep. He slid his eyes open as he felt the pressure move. His Master was leaning over him, sitting beside the thin mattress that lay on the floor. He opened his mouth; his Master had never woken him before, but was silenced when his Master's hand came up and ran gently through his hair.

"Hush, Precious," Damien soothed. "Relax. It won't hurt. I take good care of you, don't I?"

Harry nodded and bit his lip. Something was inside him. He moved his legs closer together on instinct and realized that his Master's wrist was between them, keeping him from locking them together.

"Tell me how I take good care of you."

"You...you give me...all the food I want."

"Yes. And you eat so very much, don't you?"

Harry blushed. He did eat a lot, much more than Sara. She didn't eat half so much as him and she was two years older. But his Master didn't mind, he just laughed and brought him more. Harry's hands suddenly clenched in his sheet as the finger stopped moving in small circles and began to go in and out.

"What else?"

"I'm warm...and cl-clean."

"You get a bubble bath every night. You like that?"

"Y-yes," Harry admitted guiltily.

He had never got loving attention from his aunt and uncle. They only yelled or hit or ignored him. When his Master took baths with him and played ships, it made him feel special and happy. A second finger pressed at him, trying to join the first. He went ridged. He didn't like this game so much. Tears burned at his eyes and he looked up pleadingly at the adult who had treated him kindly.

"Precious, you're making this hard on yourself. Please? I take such good care of you. Just relax, open your legs for me."

Harry didn't want to, but...But what if his Master got mad at him. Would he be punished? Would he be forgotten? Slowly, his trembling legs began to spread until he wasn't touching the wrist any longer.

"Good, Precious. Very good. You make me so happy."

Harry looked up into that proud, smiling face and tearfully smiled back. The hand stroking his hair left as his Master layout next to him, his head next to Harry's. The boy turned his head so he wouldn't lose eye contact. He thought he'd scream without it. The two fingers lay still within him and he slowly relaxed as his Master continued to softly stroke his hair.

"Tell me, do you like it here?" Damien asked, smiling lovingly all the while.

"Yes," Harry whispered.

"What would you change? I want to make you happy."

"Wh-why..."

"Why am I doing this?" he asked, moving both fingers in a circle. Harry tensed again and Damien laughed. "It's to help your body prepare for my favorite game in the whole world. It makes me so very happy. Shouldn't you want to make me as happy as I make you?"

"Y-yes."

"That's right. And it's not so bad. Does it hurt so very much?"

"N-no."

"What about flowers? Do you think we should bring in some flowers?"

"I like flowers," Harry whispered.

"Really? Me too!" Damien smiled brightly.

Harry smiled back. The fingers began to move slowly in and out. He didn't know what to do and lay very still.

"Precious. I asked you which kinds?"

"Oh...ummm...y-yellow...or wh-white..." He began to breathe hard as the fingers slowly picked up pace.

"Just a bit longer, Precious. Think of something else. Tell me what you want for breakfast."

"Ummm...p-pancakes...and waffles...syrup...toast...and j-juice..."

"Open your legs a bit wider. Yes... Bring your knees up... Oh, you're so good at this, Precious. I'm so proud."

Harry was panting, the sensations assaulting him verging on painful. He bit his trembling lip and tried desperately to think of food. As he continued to stutter and pant out his list, Damien watched his sweaty face. Yes. This child was a gold mine. His need to please and his sweet temperament made him the perfect child to mold.

Harry gasped and arched slightly as the fingers were slowly taken out. Exhausted, he curled up on his side facing his Master. Damien smiled at him and pulled his covers back over his body. The last thing Harry saw before he fell back to sleep was that happy smile. He could ignore the throbbing between his legs for that.

Damien watched him. He'd be incredible in bed when he was through training him. Work was work and he usually didn't react, but this boy made his blood boil. He was hard just from remembering how those innocent, pained green eyes had stared trustingly into him. He wanted to just take that beautiful flesh and make it his, but he couldn't. Not without ruining the training. No. He'd be patient. He'd make this child his masterpiece.

...

The next night.

The floor vibrated slightly, as it did every night, with the blaring music from the club downstairs. Harry had asked once to go down and see what it was like, but had been strictly forbidden to do so or even ask again. He quickly complied, but had taken to going barefoot so he could feel the music through his feet. He liked it.

"Hurry and eat. Master will be up soon for your bath," Sara said.

She had bright brown eyes and long blonde hair. She lived up in the Master's apartment with him, but talked to him as little as possible. Harry had tried to make her a friend. It didn't work too well. She'd just ignore him or walk away. He sighed and cleaned up his paints. He couldn't wait to show his Master what he had drawn.

The door opened and Damien walked in. He was angry and distracted, but that all washed away as he saw the black-haired boy grin up at him with blue across one cheek and purple over his eye. Two colorful small hands quickly held up a finger painting. He smiled down into those proud green eyes.

"Did you do this, Precious? It's beautiful."

"It's for you, Master."

"Thank you." He grinned and lifted the child in his arms. He gently set the painting down on the table. "You need a bath. You're more colorful than the television!"

Harry laughed as they made their way to the bath. The water was warm and Harry splashed bubbles at the Master. Damien laughed and splashed him back. They played a bit, racing the boats and splashing, before beginning to wash each other's hair and bodies. It was all innocent. Damien wouldn't bring their lessons into the bathroom for a while yet.

When they were finished, Harry climbed out of the bath and waited for the Master to wrap him in a fluffy towel and dry him off. Damien did so and carried the boy into the bedroom. Two thin mattresses lay on the floor across the room from each other. Between them, against a different wall, was his huge king sized bed.

"Crawl into bed," Damien ordered. "I'll be back to read you a story."

"Okay." Harry smiled. He was getting use to sleeping naked. Damien ran a hand through his messy black hair and left the room. Harry was just getting into his bed when he heard the apartment door open again.

"What do you think you're doing?" he heard his Master demand angrily.

"You! Brat! Bring anyone else up here out to me! Now!" a deep voice demanded.

Harry didn't recognize it. The bedroom door opened and Sara scrambled in looking terrified. He hurried over to her; "What's happening?"

"Master has enemies. This is his biggest," she answered and dragged him toward the door.

"You're making a mistake, Kye. The others won't be happy you're rocking the boat," Damien said calmly as the two children returned.

"Fuck them! I'm not some petty thief to be brushed off!"

Harry stared at the man. He wore a silk, long-sleeved shirt and slacks, all black. His face was young looking and twisted with anger. The blonde hair and blue eyes would have made him look friendly otherwise. Four men were fanned out behind him, but Harry didn't get a good look at them. His attention was riveted on the metal gun in the blonde's hand. It was pointing steadily at his Master.

"You kill me, you'll be killing yourself."

BANG! ... Everything slowed. Harry watched horrified as his Master's body flew backward, blood gently spraying forward and backward. Damien's feet left the ground, mouth stretched wide with surprise and pain. The hazel eyes were already glazing when his head thumped against the wall obscenely. Everyone watched as Damien slid down into a slump, leaving a wet red smear.

Harry felt shocked tears burn his eyes. His Master's forehead was gone. His Master's soul was gone. Blood was beginning to pool around his body and was very slowly creeping across the floor in an expanding circle. It smelled. A deep booming laugh pulled Harry's eyes from the corpse and back to the killer.

"Surprise, surprise. I'm not dead." Kye grinned and tossed his gun backward. One of the other men caught it easily. "Two of you guard the door. Don't let anyone up here and close up my new club in a couple hours. I'm going to celebrate."

Harry stared dumbly as the killer grabbed Sara's arm and pulled her back into the bedroom. Just before the door closed, the man looked back and his eyes settled on Harry. The boy shrunk back. "Those of you not on duty can play with this one."

The door shut. Harry looked wildly at the other men. They were eyeing each other. Two were frowning and turned away. They left the apartment silently. The two that remained turned back to Harry and began to grin. Harry's eyes widened with fear. He kept backing up as they got closer. His feet squished in the carpet.

"I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me," he begged as his back hit the wall.

His Master's bloody head was almost at eye level to him, not three inches from his shoulder. It trapped him, paralyzed him with horror. One of the men saw he wouldn't run and grabbed his arm hard. Harry was crying now. He struggled weakly, but it had no effect. The men took him over to the couch.

"Be a good boy."

"No...." What followed was so violent, so painful. His body was spasming, convulsing with agony. His mind was breaking, falling toward insanity. "....Please, stop! ..." He cried and wailed, begged and pleaded. He tried to pass out, but couldn't. Everything was a blur of pain, sweat, and blood. "....I'm sorry! I'll be good, I'll be good! ...." Every second crushed him a little more. The pain; it was too much too bear. He hardly even noticed when he was finally released and was dropped to collapse onto the filthy carpet. "... please make it stop...."

The pain didn't lesson when he was left alone, curled in a ball of misery. It still raged inside him till he was mad with it. Blood and semen and sweat coated his skin. He rubbed at it hysterically with shaking hands. It would go away; it wouldn't have happened if he was only clean. Salt tears drenched his face. He coughed and gagged, trying hard just to keep breathing, but he couldn't get enough air and darkness finally took him away.

...

Laine glared at the thugs. He had come to scope out the building, the entrances and exits. He hadn't planned on coming in until he knew more of what was going on, but had been caught trying to open a window by a guard coming out to relieve himself. He only wanted to see if it was locked during the day. Now he was in enemy hands! And after everything he had gone through just to escape Raymond and that damned ship!

He'd spent a day and a half just hoarding his strength and trying to gain everyone's confidence again. Then he had picked the hold door lock, freed the kids as a distraction, jumped ship, swam to shore, almost froze to death, stole clothes, walked to Damien's club, and it all came to this. Failure!

They came to a door upstairs and Laine heard a weak scream. A deep voice said deep voice say, "Awake now? We're ready to play again." Laine felt his blood race from his head and he thought he'd faint as the door swung open. He stared at the scene before him. The boy he had come to rescue was crying helplessly, shaking with terror and pain.

Two men were standing over him with their pants open and their perversion standing for all to see. One of them was pinning the broken boy to the ground by stepping on the boy's back. Exhausted, terrified, pain-filled eyes finally found his and Laine screamed. The two thugs holding him let go, surprised by the furious sound, and he ran forward. The other two were too surprised to stop him from reaching the small boy.

"I'll get you out of here. I love you. Hold on," he whispered quietly.

Harry could hardly believe Laine was really here. Then he heard what his friend was saying and he burst into desperate tears. All his pain seemed to fade for a moment before his joy. No one had ever said they loved him. Not even his Master. He reached weakly for his savior, begging to be saved, but Laine was yanked out of reach. The foot was taken off his back as the men tried to subdue the screaming, struggling Laine. The bedroom door opened.

"It's barely past dawn. I hope you have a good reason for waking me up!" Kye said venomously.

"We caught this brat trying to sneak in, sir."

"What!" Kye stepped into the room and grabbed Laine by his filthy shirt. "Are you a spy? An agent? How dare they! They send children! They'll regret taking me so lightly!"

"Sir," one of the guards tried to protest. He really didn't think the kid was sent by an enemy.

"Shut up! Get me my whip."

The guard scrambled to obey. He was back quickly and Kye ordered two guards to hold Laine up and still. Harry began screaming hysterically, but one of the guards grabbed him and covered his mouth.

"Tell me who sent you," Kye growled.

Laine froze at the sight of the whip. He couldn't think past his panic. Things weren't working the way they were supposed to. Not at all. What could he say? What would keep him alive?

SNAP! ... "Answer me!"

Laine grunted against the pain, biting through his lip with the effort not to cry out.

SNAP! ... "Answer!"

SNAP, CRACK! ... Harry watched with eyes growing wild with insanity. ... SNAP ... The pain in his body and the overwhelming fear ate at his mind. The sight before him ate at his heart. ... SNAP ... Laine loved him. He was suffering because he had come to try and help him. ... SNAP ... It hurt, it hurt! The pain as the men pounded into him, he had to stop the pain. ... SNAP ... He had to save Laine. He had to...to...stop...

Laine cried out as the whip licked at his skin. His wounds from Raymond were far from healed and the bastard was only making them worse. The bonfire of agony ran over his chest and back, threatening to draw him down into unconsciousness, but he had to think. He needed to get out of this. He needed to get the boy out too. He was talking, saying he was sent from someone, but Laine couldn't hear himself. It just hurt too much.

Something scratched at the back of his mind. He fell silent. The pain faded to the background as all his attention was focused on the strange sensation. It was drawing him in like a moth to a flame. He lifted his head and opened his eyes. When had he closed them? Slowly, they focused and he found himself staring into hard golden eyes. Who?

"Let him go."

The voice was like steel. It tore into your courage and showed you true death. It was the voice of a predator, with the glowing eyes of a starving wolf hanging above it. The five year old looked over each man slowly. It wasn't a pleasant thing. All of them backed away. The two holding Laine loosened their grip. Laine stared dumbly. He could feel something building in the boy, something familiar.

"Let. Go. Now!" The gold eyes were riveted on the two touching Laine, but the men were paralyzed with fear and couldn't do as commanded.

"Shut up!" Kye screamed, somehow finding the strength to do so. "Shut up! If you don't stop, I'll have Jack and Mike kill you and then play with your little friend. You like that? They'll fuck him dead if you don't back off!"

Harry's eyes pierced through the blonde. Kye had never felt such fear. This wasn't human. This thing was a demon! Oh, god, why couldn't he have kept his fucking mouth shut! Harry smiled; a cold chilling smile. He raised his hand and the man slammed back against the wall and burst into flames. Damien's body ignited underneath him and added to his torment. His screams reached pitches that didn't seem possible for a human voice box. The sound went on and on as Kye very slowly died.

When the body finally went silent and dropped, charred and smoking, onto the floor, the four bodyguards ran for the door. Harry laughed, just as they had when they were tearing him apart, and they became living candles. They ran around wildly and the apartment began to burn as they thrashed about. One managed to get the door open and ran screaming down into the club. The fires spread.

Laine was crouched on the floor. He watched all this silently. He wasn't afraid, but he was surprised. He knew this ebony power. It was the same thing that lashed out of him, poising those who invaded his body. He remembered the glee of killing those who raped him and knew that the boy was feeling the same.

His first kill had taken a day and a half. First, the man who had broken him open had curled up with cramps. Then he began coughing up blood. Last, his skin turned greenish black and began rotting off as he still breathed. Laine had watched it all and laughed, laughed as this boy was laughing. He didn't think anyone else had that power. And he felt a smile tugging at his mouth. He really wasn't alone. This boy was just like him.

The place began to creak and groan alarmingly. The screams had stopped and now the place was burning around their ears. Laine finally staggered to his feet. He went over to the boy. Gold eyes fastened on him, but he never paused or hesitated. Let those eyes look into the deepest part of his soul. He had nothing to hide. Not from his brother. He smiled again. He liked the title. It seemed perfect for this boy.

"You can stop now. They're dead. We have to get out of here before we die with them."

"No. It's not over till this place is gone. I want to destroy it," the boy spoke, still in that deadly sword-like voice.

"Then destroy it, but don't kill yourself, too, brother," Laine snapped impatiently.

"Brother," the boy repeated and then nodded.

Laine didn't expect what came next. A shimmering globe surrounded them and then blinding light flashed outward. It was as if he were standing inside a small sun. Through the glare he could see wood, debris, and smoke. The sound was horrendous. It sounded like the largest firework in the world. It deafened him. Then as fast as it had begun, the light faded and Laine was standing in a globe floating fifteen feet from the ground.

Below them was a small crater where the club had stood. The buildings closest to it had been reduced to rubble. The whole block was on fire. He turned back to his brother and saw gold bleeding back into green. They floated toward the hot ground and the white globe flickered out. Exhausted emerald eyes looked up at him and that beautiful smile he remembered bloomed across the now gentled face.

"I...love you...too, Laine," Harry panted. Everything hurt. Every hair, every skin cell, every organ; it was so pervading he almost didn't notice it. But he couldn't hold on. As much as he wanted to be with his new brother, he felt unconsciousness pull at him. So very, very tired. And hungry. "Ouch," he croaked with a wince, then fainted dead away.

Laine laughed, clutching his brother to his chest. He'd never let him go again. He'd never be alone again. Grinning, he swung his brother into his arms and climbed out of the crater. His brother had gained some weight, but not enough to make it difficult to carry him even with his injuries. He was tired, but knew he couldn't rest. He had to get out of the city. Raymond would be sending people out looking for him. He'd be furious. So first thing to do was get out of his reach. Then get to a hospital to get himself and his brother treated.

And to think nine days ago he had turned eight. Happy birthday to me! Even so, he couldn't help but think it hadn't been such a bad one this year. The only thing he would have changed was what his brother had to go through. If only he had been faster. He shook his head. He couldn't think of that now. He'd just have to make sure nothing like that ever happened to him again. Ever. With a hard determination, Laine began to walk.