FicWad

IVORY A/N: Indeed I will fit in one or two more stage scenes then, but I'll make sure they're relevant to the story. They're fun to write anyway. Speaking of fun to write, this chapter was a little hard near the end, but still I'm happy with it ^_^

Reader Response:
Tyty: Oh no! Don't die! Who do you love? blank Oh yes and Zombies. I don't care what kind of zombies as long as they're good and dead and stuff. Have fun with it, but you better write it!
WhinnieRichards: You're making me so happy with those compliments, lol! I don't care if your being over dramatic. I like over-dramaticness. As for what Ciel says in French, honestly it's not really important. I don't translate because Ike doesn't know French, but at the end of chapter five I'll put translations and if you want, I'll continue to do that for future chapters.
Reader: Well his spirit isn't as lively in this update but there's good reason. Enjoy.
Kt: Hints? What hints? I'm always subtle, what are you talking about? And yes, I had to put Eddie in mesh and a leash. I don't know why...
Alisha Steele: Snap Eddie's control? laffs That's a good idea. I can see it now! Yes yes, plot driven porn. I like it too. But you've got the screws of my evil pervert brain .... Churning or something, and that's a dangerous thing. Thanks ^_^
Sheamaru: Well now, I don't want to lose your interest. (no that's not sarcasm) I adore where it's going too... Wait... Where is it going? Oh well... And yes, Lachlan is a curious fellow. He has a couple secrets that are to be discovered. And you're right about Ciel. He does know what he's talking about.
Semme: A big fat Orgy? Jeez, aren't you a sex fiend! Hmm Project 9. It's got a ring to it. Shower guy? I like that name. I assume your speaking of Lachlan, lol. Oh come on, I'm sure you can think of more to say to me? How's Pie Jr doing?


IVORY

Chapter 6
Night Terrors

--

When it came down to it, the choice didn't belong to Ciel. The choice belonged to Yakov. Even though they made quite the happy couple, they were still separately acting individuals. Yakov, even after being told the situation and after being told Ciel's position on it, only laughed. He really was surprisingly sweet about it. I was surprised that the creep Ciel had such a nice guy.

Yakov's dark hair was cropped close to his head. He wasn't exactly a looker, but he was thin and only a bit taller than me. Not only that, but when he was in drag, he could definitely pass for a woman. He was perfect. Although, my parents might be a little alarmed about me being with a 28-year-old woman with such a deep Russian accent. Still I was sure Yakov was charming enough to win them over.

He had told me in a quiet almost shy voice, "Ciel has no input on my decisions. He does not have the power to make deals like that when it doesn't involve him. I will help you with no strings attached. I've always wondered what it was like to be a transvestite anyway."

But all that was over. It was decided that it would happen that Sunday. For the time being leaving Cabaret Pasticcio to hop on the metro and go home. It was much later since I had decided to stay and watch the last number. I made my way out of the building and down the street. The warm glow of the street lamps was somewhat unnerving for some reason. It was just so harsh, and a little disorienting. It had been awhile since I was alone after dark like that. During the weekends after what happened, either Ciel or Eddie always drove me home. Though to be perfectly honest, I was beginning to regret my decision to use public transport.

The sound of footsteps behind me didn't alert me too much. It wasn't nearly late enough for Montreal to quiet down, so there were plenty of people roaming the streets still. At a time like that I would have appreciated more of a crowd. In the distance, I could hear the heavy grinding beat of an industrial dance club, and the shouting of a few rowdy men, but none of it was in sight. Cabaret Pasticcio's street was just off the main street of le village, so it was a little quieter than the area in general.

Technically I could have taken the shortcut through the alleyway toward the Beaudry metro, but I didn't exactly have fond memories in that alley, so I decided to go around the block. When the footsteps came closer and more hurried than before, I held my breath, feeling a little panicked about it. But instead of showing my silly fear, I glanced back with exaggerated nonchalance. There was nobody there. I slowed my walking a little, to scan the sidewalks and some bushes lining closed boutiques, and a couple apartment buildings. There was absolutely no one in sight. Still, I was increasingly bothered by this fact, and the street lights were making me feel a little too uncomfortable. I felt exposed.

As I started off again, walking considerably quicker than before, but the footsteps started again. Frightened, I glanced back but saw nothing and heard nothing. This time, I ran, not toward the metro, but toward a diner that I could see still had people in. When I finally made it up to the glass doors, I spotted the "Ferme" sign that meant they were closed. I tried the doors but they were locked. With a nervous glance at the streets around me, I knocked desperately on the glass, trying to catch someone's attention. There were three people inside, and when they heard my knocking they simply glanced at me, and muttered amongst themselves.

"Come on!" My eyes stayed peeled to the street around me. "I think someone's following me. All I want is to use a phone, please!"

The largest of the three made his way toward the door, but made no move to unlock it. "There's nobody out there, but if you want a phone so badly, there's a payphone on the corner." He motioned to the left behind me.

I looked at it and nervously looked back to him. He didn't look like he was in the mood to deal with me, so I muttered a thank you, and took off toward the phone booth. Whatever happened to the kindness of strangers? Still it wasn't surprising. They couldn't be expected to trust some panicked redhead that suddenly comes banging on their door so late at night. Hopefully they'll at least feel bad when they see my face on the news the next day after I'm found murdered. With such bitter thoughts filling my paranoid head, I closed myself in the phone booth and peered out the clear walls as I fished in my pockets for my wallet.

Found it. And my phone card. I pulled it out and moved to slide it in the thing, only to spot a penny lodged in the phone card slot. This wasn't going so well, and Cabaret Pasticcio was just over a block away now, I didn't want to risk leaving the lighted confines of the booth because if anyone came out of hiding, I'd see it right away from there. So with a growl, I flipped my card around and nervously fumbled to dial the card number and manually put in the code, not without glancing up every few seconds to make sure no one was approaching. After Mace's number was dialed - by that point I didn't care that he'd question me for being in le village, I just wanted help from someone I trusted - I waited as it rang... and rang... and rang.

My lip was beginning to bleed, and I hadn't even realized I had been biting it. Finally there was a click and no more ringing. Someone had answered, but they didn't say anything right away. Maybe they were half asleep? So I spoke, my hope shining through in my desperate voice. "Hello? Mace? Come on, buddy talk to me."

There was silence on the line until finally I heard an intake of breath and then some words. "Mace is asleep. Who is this?"

"Ah- Eddie! Oh, I'm sorry for calling so late, it's just that I didn't know what else to do. This is Ike Cohen," I'm not sure why I felt the need to state my last name, not that the model knew many Ikes who would call his brother. "I'm scared. I just left Pasticcio, and... I think someone's following me. I don't know what to do."

And still he treated me to another silence and then a tired groan as I heard the rustling of sheets. "... Alright, I'll come get you. Where are you right now, exactly?"

It was so nice to hear his sleepy voice. It was more expressive then his wide awake voice. Despite my uneasiness, he managed to bring a smile to my face, and I opened my mouth to answer, "I'm in a phone booth outside of..." I trailed off, having heard a click. I listened for a moment and heard nothing. No rustling of sheets, no breathing, no nothing. "Eddie? ... Eddie! Goddamn it, answer me. Fucking phone!" I pressed down on the thingamajig to hang up and then let it pop back into place before listening into the receiver again. The phone was dead.

That was when I realized that I had not been watching my surroundings after Eddie had answered. Nervously, I shoved my wallet and phone card deep into my jean pocket before looking around and contemplating making a run for it back to Pasticcio. But prior to the idea being put into action, my string of bad-luck just got worse. The lights in the phone booth went out.

The street lights followed. And then the buildings leaving the entire street in utter darkness.

I burst out of the booth, and sprinted toward Pasticcio. The only thing lighting the way was the glow from surrounding streets. As I ran, something tripped me, and I tumbled to the cement, banging my knee on the way down. That would definitely leave a nasty scratch but that was the least of my worries at the moment. Before I knew it, there was someone there offering to help me up, but I couldn't see their face... Only blonde hair. I squinted at them, still on my hands and knees.

"Eddie...? Is that you?"

"No." The man grabbed me by the arm and dragged me toward the alley. My eyes widened and I began to scream for help. Screw pride. Screw punishment. Screw everything, as long as someone got me out of there! But no matter how loud or how long I screamed, there was never an answer.

Then we were in a building. I didn't remember getting there, but it didn't matter. The man pushed me roughly on a broken filthy mattress and loomed over me; the moon shining through a cracked window illuminated his face. It was that high school guy that attacked me before with his friends. He leaned over and moved to crawl on top of me, and as soon as he was close enough, I let out an ear-piercing scream that even left my own ears ringing. The man wasn't very happy with that and drove a fist into my stomach before smacking me roughly in the head. Then he did it again... and again...

I could taste blood in my mouth, and feel the thick liquid tricking down the side of my forehead. Shocked, and a little unbalanced after those strikes, I pressed my cheek to the mattress, and tried to still my spinning head. When he started trying to remove my jeans, I swatted at him, only to receive another blow. It hurt so much, but most of all it made my head fuzzy, and I was beginning to have trouble grasping thoughts or actions. If normally I would know what to do, whatever that was, was lost to me now.

The only way I could think to fight him was to scream. But every time I tried, my body was overtaken by sobs of distress. It wouldn't listen. My vocal chords wouldn't obey. Maybe there was no air left. Maybe I had forgotten to breathe. I was so confused. When the sound of his pants hitting the floor reached my ears, I felt him spread my bare legs, though I didn't quite remember him removing the jeans completely nor did I recall the removal of my boxers. Panicked, I tried again to scream, but nothing came out beyond a dry gurgle followed by more sobs.

As I felt him position himself, preparing to thrust in, I squeezed my eyes shut, and cried out, "Oh god, Eddie where are you?!"

"I'm right here..."

"No!" I started struggling again, the anger bubbling in me. How could that man call himself Eddie? How could he be so cruel? "Let me go! Please..." I pleaded between sobs and struggles. "Please just... stop!"

My arms were being restrained, and in a soft familiar voice I heard, "Ivory... It's ok, it's me. Open your eyes and look at me."

Could it be real? For a moment I just laid there, my face pressed still against what I thought was a mattress. My body was still trembling in spasms as I tried to stop crying. No penetration ever came. Slowly for that reason alone, I began to trust the voice.

My eyes opened, and at first I had to blink away the tears before I could see anything. The lights were on, and instead of a mattress, I found myself clutching someone's black cashmere turtleneck. I still tasted blood in my mouth but realized it was from biting my bottom lip. Someone's arms were around me, somewhat comforting my trembling

I looked up into Eddie's concerned green eyes, and I said in a small voice, "What... What happened?"

"You fell asleep and started screaming." Lachlan's voice answered from somewhere else in the room. "But you wouldn't wake up, and you were calling for Eddie so we asked him to come back... You were freaking out like you were being murdered or something."

Ciel spoke up, "By then the audience had cleared out, heureusement..." Upon closer inspection, I realized he was right beside Eddie and me, with a very worried Denis. Ciel frowned disapprovingly at me, "Don't look at me with those teary Doe-eyes. Now if this whole incident is cleared up, I'd like to go home now."

Eddie, still keeping his arms around me, shifted slightly to wipe the tears from under my eyes with his thumb. "It looks like you had a night terror. They're not normally tied in with post traumatic stress disorder as far as I know, but I suppose it's possible. Unless you often have night terrors?"

"Huh?" I rested my head on the soft fabric covering his shoulder, as I tried to think clearly. "Um... No. I haven't even had nightmares in a long time. I don't think I've ever had night terrors... But I am a deep sleeper..."

He stroked my hair, noticing that my body was still shaking terribly. "Ok just breathe right now. Don't try to think too much."

"Why would he have post traumatic... Why would he be traumatized?" Lachlan sounded a little upset about being in the cold about what was happening. I heard a chair scrape against the floor, and footsteps making there way toward us. Lachlan came and sat down on the other side of Eddie, facing me. "Are you alright, Ike?"

"I'm fine..." My voice cracked, kinda making me look like a liar, but I couldn't bring myself to say otherwise. I looked at Lachlan, almost pleadingly. "I can't face my parents like this... Maybe I should go to a motel tonight, but I don't want to be alone."

Lachlan gazed at me sadly, and shook his head. "I've gotta see a client tonight... I'm sure Eddie would be more then happy to keep you company."

I looked up at Eddie again, and shook my head. That was impossible. Naturally he had been my first choice but a choice that couldn't possibly work out for the best, considering the circumstances. I moved to get off him, realizing he was still holding me on his lap, but when I pushed away from him, and my legs made the movements to walk away, they ended up folding beneath me, sending me falling to the floor. I was too weak to walk. Cringing, I hit the ground with a frustrated fist.

Denis rushed to help me up, but I shook my head and attempted to do it myself. Maybe it was pathetic, or childishly stubborn, but I didn't want to be taken care of like that. I didn't want to be helpless and vulnerable, but being or facing my parents when I still couldn't stop trembling was an even scarier thing to me. I hated that my life was so dramatic now, but the subject of my immediate despite was my own subconscious self. How could I embarrass myself by having such a dream? What the hell was wrong with me?

"Mace will find out." I whispered toward the floor. With a deep breath, I stood back up, and with a lot of focus, managed to stay standing. Everyone was watching me with deep concern, and I was touched... and yet I was angered by it. "Denis, will you drive me to a motel or something? I need to grow up someday anyway."

"... Certainment..."

Eddie got up from his chair and walked passed, not even sparing me another glance. "I'm sorry I didn't realize your lies had priority over your well-being. I should get going before my baby brother suddenly develops telepathic abilities and discovers that you and I were in the same room together for about 5 minutes. Now that would be a scandal."

"Oh sure," I grimaced and glare after him. "You can crack a joke, but you can't crack a fucking smile. What makes you think it's even my lies I'm talking about? Maybe I didn't ask you because I didn't want to inconvenience you. After all you can't stand my type!"

Before Eddie could respond, Denis put a hand on my shoulder and led me toward the back door where he had his car parked. "Now you two are just making a scene. I will drive you to a motel for the night, as long as you call me in the morning when you're ready to leave. I don't want you wandering around Montreal on your own when you're in such a state."

"I'm 21. I can take care of myself..." When I saw the serious look on Denis' face, I reconsidered my response. With a weak but sincere smile, I nodded. "Ok Maybe this episode today has earned a bit of vigilance. As you wish, old man, I'll give you a call."

--

It was a small room. Just a bed, a tiny TV with only 4 channels, a small table, and a bathroom. Not only that but the lighting wasn't too good either. A person couldn't hope to stay in a place like that for too long without going absolutely crazy. There was nothing to do but lay there trying to sleep, or sitting by the window, watching cars drive by.

After being there for three hours, it was 2 am. There was no way I could fall asleep. The dream - if you could call it a dream - wasn't exactly fresh in my mind; in fact I barely remembered what had happened in it. But what were still fresh in my mind were the emotions associated with whatever happened. I still could feel being hit, and I could feel the fear of being followed and being swallowed by darkness. The feeling of those who could help being just barely beyond my reach was the worst.

And still they were out of sight. Even as I was lying there, I felt as though I didn't have to be alone and yet I was. The stucco ceiling was staring down at me but it was too far beyond my reach. Maybe that was a silly metaphor, but in my insomnia, and self-pity slump, it hardly mattered what stupid analogies or anecdotes my troubled mind thought up.

"I wake in the night," I sang to myself in a whisper, "To find you on my mind... Or maybe I'm losing my mind..." When I realized I had just combined lines from two different songs, I frowned at the stucco ceiling and mutter, "Fuck."

It was times like that when a CD player would have come in handy... And maybe a CD or two. TV was no good either for anyone not interested in infomercials. Nothing was any good but laying there and trying to fall asleep. If only sleep wasn't so elusive.

And then the sound of footsteps moving up the wooden stairs outside my door alerted me. My eyes widened as I listened carefully, wondering if maybe I had ended up falling asleep again. But no... Footsteps were normal. It as silly of me to think otherwise. There were many other people staying at this motel. There was no need to think that they wouldn't be wandering around at 2 in the morning on a Wednesday... No it would be Thursday...

A knock on the door.

I leapt to my feet and stared at the window for a minute before slowly walking over to the door and hesitantly putting my hand on the dead bolt. After a moment of thinking, instead of unlocking the door I peered through the eye hole. All that could be seen was someone's shoulder. They were off to the side a bit it seemed...

So I asked, "Who is it?"

"... A psychotic serial killer. Open the door."

I thought for a moment before deciding that was definitely a cold expressionless voice I recognized. "Eddie?" I unlatched the deadbolt and pulled the door open to find that exact man leaning against the door frame. "What are you doing here? What about -"

"Mace isn't even home right now." He looked past me at the small room, seemingly unimpressed. "As much as you piss me off, I can't stop thinking about you."

"What... What are you saying?" I stepped aside to let him in, a little confused by his words. "Am I supposed to be grateful or offended?"

He walked in, and didn't wait another moment before surprising me and pulling me into a strong hug. "Probably offended. You should get some sleep. You have class in a few hours, don't you? I'll stay with you until then."

"I... I can't sleep. I've been trying and trying, but it's hopeless." My eyes started collecting moisture, but I didn't want any tears to escape. "I'm afraid of what I'll see when I close my eyes."

He closed the door and put the deadbolt back in place. With his arms still around me, he led me to the bed, and let me go there, motioning for me to climb onto it. While I complied he went over to turn on the TV - but muting it - and turning off the light. I slipped under the covers, a little nervous about having the lights off, but too embarrassed to protest such a thing.

When he came back to the bed, he shed his coat, and dropped it on the small table. "Scoot over."

Once again, I obeyed without asking any questions. It was nice of him to do this without asking permission. If he had asked me if he could stay, my pride would get the best of me, and I would have told him that I didn't need his pity. He was kind not to give me that chance.

He got into the bed under the covers right beside me, and propped up the pillows beside him so that he could watch the TV comfortably. As soon as he noticed the perplexed frown he was receiving, he rolls his eyes, slipped an arm under my neck, and pulled my shoulders closer so that I was against him. That man had always been so confident in his indifference. Probably a requirement of being a model.

"Sleep," He ordered.

With how he had me, there wasn't much of a choice for sleeping positions. I hesitantly let my arm rest over his ribs, and my cheek pressed against his chest. I could hear his steady heart beat, and my head rose every time he inhaled. With such a rhythm, I couldn't stop myself from drifting off...

The last thing about that moment I remembered was a kiss to my forehead and him whispering, "I'll never let anyone hurt you again, Ike..."

TBC... ... ... ...


---NEXT CHAPTER---