The Guardians

By Rilbur Skryler

Jason Bester was your normal, everyday neighbor. Halfway through college, with loving, wonderful parents and a supportive brother. Then he made the mistake of coming out of the closet, and fell into the depths of hell, and chooses suicide. Moments before death, Fate intervenes. And her hand shall guide him through a hell beyond imagining to a fate that will change the foundations of the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rilbur Skryler
• Release date: Nov 7, 2010
• ISBN: 9781458046550

Rilbur Skryler

An avid reader from a young age, I started branching out into writing years ago. I started with several rather ambitious stories that were probably doomed to failure to begin with, above and beyond the personal circumstances that lead to me abandoning writing for years.Due to a chance overheard conversation while on the bus from school, an idea took root and I suddenly had the urge to write again. From there, my work has only grown -- and the future continues to look bright.Currently, I'm getting back into the 'swing' of writing after a long break. After graduating college, I spent a long time as a programmer looking for a job, and in my case, depression and writing don't mix well.

Book preview

Prologue

Stumbling into the church, the youth held his hand close against his side, eyes narrowed against his pain. Looking up at the splendor and beauty around him, the youth wept all the harder for its glory. Finding his way to a pew, he sat and stared up at the face of the man on the cross. Bowing his head before the power he had once so loved, he felt the tears run down his face. A fragment of scripture, unbidden, called itself to him. My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?

Why? he croaked out softly, unable to say more. A half hysterical giggle threatened to climb up out of him, but he kept it under control. Why, why God? Struggling to find some meaning, some hope, he simply raised his head and stared. Why? he whispered once more, the cry of a damned soul looking for hope.

Finding none, he rose. He was not welcome here. How could he be? How could such a... a pervert... ever be welcomed here? Tears falling unabashed, he stumbled from the church, exhausted, dead of hope and spirit, tasting despair for the first time in his twenty year life. Outside the darkness waited.

He knew that darkness would consume him, and he was glad.

* * *

In the shadows, a single figure stirred, walking forward into the light. Glancing up at the cross, he bowed his head with respect to the figure there. Is this why you called? he spoke softly, hesitantly. It had been so very long. I can do so little for him. He is not like me, and I cannot help him grow closer to you, only more distant. No answer came, save the growing certainty that the answer to his question was yes. Turning, he strode purposely into the night. Vaguely, he sensed that this was something more than the usual. That he wasn't simply going to heal the youth he'd encountered, but that there was something more.

Turning his head left and right, he saw no sign of the young man who had just left. Frowning, he swore softly and closed his eyes to concentrate on senses other than sight.

* * *

A fist slammed hard into his side, hard, and Jason bit back another yelp of pain. He would not -- would not! -- give them that satisfaction. The fire burned inside him, fighting the pain, yielding to the pain; feeding it and being fed in turn; calling it and becoming one with it. He might break soon, but he had yet to do so. Another blow slammed into his face, sending him flying as yet more hands grabbed him, spun him around, and struck him again.

And again.

And again!

And again!

Suddenly he slumped against a wall, half fallen, half standing, as his tormentors, or perhaps executioners were distracted by someone at the head of the alley. Breathing shallow breaths, he waited for them to finish him, hoping God would do him one last favor and let this end quickly. What happened reminded him of one of his father's favorite sayings.

A sudden blur of motion at the head of the alley defied description, moving with a speed and ferocity that blinded the eye and staggered the mind. First one figure then another simply flew away, crumpling around attacks of such force and power that the blow simply blasted through any attempts at a defense, striking gut when his assailants blocked high, face when they blocked low, attacking another when they guarded against both and then struck back when they moved to try and stop the shadowy figure. New screams of terror, agony, and pain breached the night's still calm, as his assailants were met with what they had dealt out.

Soon, the shadowy figure knelt over him, and his blurry vision finally managed to resolve a few details. A simple face, rough-hewn but strangely unscarred for all the violence that danced in the eyes of his rescuer. Dark hair drifted above the face, framing a visage that screamed into the darkest corners of his mind. He'd never met this man before, but in that one instant he knew him. God had sent him the angel of death... if not quite the one he'd expected. Jason's mind drifted on the haze of agony that enveloped him, and he barely heard the strangers questioning tone.

Whah- he croaked. Swallowing, he tried again. What did you say?

I was going to ask if you're all right, but I suppose that's a fairly stupid question, the humor stood out in the grim, if somewhat nasal, voice, and a ghost of a smile drifted across both their lips for a moment. My name is Ronan Koken, and yours might be?

I'm Jason Bester, barely constrained hysteria danced in his voice. He was beaten, bloody, probably had a concussion, and this guy was fucking trading names? What a stitch! Ronan's hands danced over Jason's body, checking his injuries. In his struggle to control his hysteria, Jason barely even noticed.

You'll be fine. They didn't break anything, and the head injury isn't serious. Ronan looked Jason in the eyes. If you wish to go to the hospital, I will see to it.

I can't afford- Jason began, and was interrupted by Ronan before he was halfway through. The rough face led him to expect a lecture on the importance of medical insurance, but what he got was stranger still.

"I said, if you wish to go to the hospital, I will see to it." The voice was stern, hard as rock yet warm and caring.

And I said- Jason started to snap. Real heat rose up in Ronan's voice.

I will make allowances for the situation. Hear me, Jason Bester! Hear me well! The tone of command in Ronan's voice grabbed Jason's attention with hands of stone. If you wish to go to the hospital, I will see to it that it happens. Do not worry of cost, or time, or effort. The question is, simply, do you so wish?

No! I don't want them to know! a cry filled with pain burst from his lips.

Then it shall not be. Ronan's voice thundered between Jason's ears, behind his eyes, pain rising in a torrent of agony that coursed briefly through his body. Strangely, he felt better for the pain, his thoughts clearer and body lighter.

Since you don't want 'them' -- I shall not now ask who -- to know, I'm going to guess you don't wish to call the police. Ronan's voice held threat, and Jason knew full well the operative word of that sentence.

No. Jason whispered, exhausted. Catching his eyes falling closed, he tried to force himself to his feet.

Gently, now, young one, Ronan grabbed Jason by the arm and helped him rise, then brought the arm over his shoulder and held him up. Now, where do you wish to go?

I- Jason hadn't thought that part through. Dimly he heard his rescuer speak to him thoughtfully.

Home? No, I think not... Since hospital and police are out, perhaps the nearby church- ah, I see not. So where shall I take you? a moments thoughtful pause before he continued, I'll put you up at my house tonight- what's wrong? he ended sharply.

A memory shook Jason to his core, of a body resting on his back, and a sharp pain. He forced it away, thinking to himself, Not now!

No- a ghostly whisper breathed in his ear, filled with shock and pain. Never. The simple force of it turned it into an oath, a vow that shook Jason to his core and forced him to believe. There was no volume to that whisper, but the tone and cadence of the utterance burned through his mind. Ronan meant it.

Jason nodded his head, muttering simply, Thank you.

As darkness overtook him at last, two things drifted through Jason's mind. Firstly, how did Ronan know? And, in his ear a simple whisper -- a memory: God always answers, just not the way we expect.

Chapter One

When Jason opened his eyes the next morning, he just about screamed in pain and agony -- such abuse was unthinkable! Groaning as he threw the covers off his body he slipped his legs over the bed, and froze suddenly. Firstly, where was he? This wasn't one of his friend's houses, or his neighbors house either -- and of course, not his own bedroom, he'd hardly expect that at this point. The bigger problem was what was under the covers. He did not own these boxers -- he'd never wear something so tacky (if, he had to admit, funny)! Oh, and he was clean. He could feel it, from head to toe, he'd been washed of the dirt and grime of the last couple of days. Which taken together, could only mean... he blushed. Strangely, though, he didn't feel violated at all. Only cared for. Kneeling, he took a moment to pray. Rising, he looked around for some more clothes to wear. Seeing none, he walked over the closet and yanked it open -- empty. Swearing, he stared at the door. He couldn't go out like this. And that... that... it was on the other side of the door. Opening it...

Seeing no choice, he opened the door and walked through the looking glass. Naked except for a blindfold, his rescuer from last night danced to that awful god-be-damned noise, limbs moving with grace and poise from position to position. Except within seconds Jason realized it was no dance. It was some form of martial arts, and his rescuer was running through what had to be a training kata of some kind. But like nothing he'd ever seen before. Still, he might be a guest but he had some rights. Could you please -- please! -- turn that music off?

Ronan barely even paused before replying It is nearly finished.

So's my sanity. Bagpipes aren't good for it. Jason was almost aghast with his behavior -- he was a guest! his mother's voice screamed in his mind -- but strangely Ronan only smiled.

I'm glad you are better, Ronan's voice seemed amused. At the very least, you are taking me at my word -- no neat trick when you were asleep when I told you feel at home.

Was this before, or after, you undressed me? Jason asked with a raised eyebrow. What the hell am I doing? he thought nervously to himself. This isn't anything like me! was followed quickly by the correction, Well, it's exactly like me... when I'm with friends. Friends who aren't naked, anyway. Realizing he'd forgotten his host's nakedness, he blinked. The stereo set chose that moment to swap to another song. "Oh. My. God. Queen? What, are you stuck in the stone age or something?"

Given my actions last night, you must admit, the song holds a certain degree of irony, Ronan smiled back. Jason couldn't see his face, but he could hear the smile clearly, and responded with his own.

Yeah, a lot of people bit the dust, and if you don't turn that stereo off I'll be one of them -- from terminal culture shock!

Ronan laughed, a deep hearty laugh that sounded strange given his nasal voice. Very well. Walking over, he turned the stereo off.

Um, would you mind telling me- Jason began, feeling a little nervous all of a sudden. Ronan still hadn't taken the blindfold off, or made any move to grab clothes of his own.

Your clothes are being washed. I will return them when they are clean, and dry. For the moment, let us see what will fit you. Taking his blindfold off, Ronan simply walked over to a bookcase filled with storage bins and pulled one out. Opening it, he waved the rather surprised Jason over. How did Ronan know exactly what he was going to ask?

I hate to point it out man, but... Jason briefly flicked his eyes over Ronan's body. Looking down, Ronan paused. Jason hid his amusement at Ronan's embarrassment.

* * *

Choosing his words carefully, Ronan answered Jason's unspoken point. You awoke earlier than I expected. I... am accustomed to starting my day like this, and without someone to be shocked by it. I did not desire for you to be shocked. Pointing at the bin, he continued, These should fit, or come close. Find out what does, leave the rest. For the moment, the room you awoke in is yours to use, place the excess clothing in the desk and closet.

Thank you- Jason began.

There is no need to thank me. I do what I must. Ronan closed his mind to that subject, and continued on another. Your injuries were severe. While I know you feel better, the effects of such injuries, and their healing, can be quite... Ronan found himself at a loss for words -- or at least, the right words. Well, you may find yourself behaving, and thinking, in ways you would not for the next few hours or days. Do not be disturbed by this.

Jason nodded his head, clearly confused. Alright...

Good, now if you'll excuse me, I need a shower. Oh, and clothes. Ronan walked into the master bedroom of the apartment, and closed the door. Closing his eyes, he allowed his mind to dance over the image of the beautiful young man in his living room, and his body to react. This... was not going to be fun. Then again, it wasn't supposed to be fun, only good. Good for him, but more good for the... the kid, he forced himself to think. He wouldn't do anything to harm the kid. Walking into the restroom, he turned the water to cold and stepped into the shower.

* * *

Jason stared aimlessly at the wall. He'd gotten the clothing that fit -- most of the container, as it turned out -- put away, and then sat on the bed. He began to understand what his rescuer -- friend? -- had told him. His behavior -- inexcusable! How could he possibly have treated this... this stranger that way! The irony of thinking of Ronan as a near-friend one moment and stranger the next struck Jason, and set him giggling. Calming down, he tried to think his way through the situation a little more clearly. And couldn't. His mind kept getting caught up on his problem. And how Ronan was likely to react when he found out.

Softly, a tear fell down his cheek as he already kissed this new home -- for somehow, he knew that's what was being offered -- goodbye. He'd stay, for now -- he had nowhere else to go! -- but sooner or later he'd lose it too. It was as inevitable as the travel of gossip down the grapevine. Grabbing some clothes, he dressed himself -- getting rid of the loaded weapon inside boxers as quickly as he could. Feeling an urgent need, he poked his head into a couple of doors to find the restroom. Feeling much relieved, he walked out and stretched a little, enjoying the unexpected freedom of movement until a few of his muscles twinged warnings that they might be in pretty good shape, considering the severity of lasts night's beating, but he'd taken quite a beating and should take it slow for a while!

Prowling the living room, he waited for Ronan to show his head. He sure had a lot of books! In fact... Jason blinked. Authors like David Eddings and Robert Jordan sat side-by-side with Alan Dean Foster and JRR Tolkein, with selections of Issac Asimov and Anne McCaffrey. It was a well-organized library, and carried just about every one of his favorite books. There wasn't any of Diane Duane, but some author name Tamora Pierce had a large section of her own. Reaching out, he pulled one of her books down carefully, just to look at its back.

Feel free to read some of those -- just return them in the same condition as you found them, or as close as you can, anyway. Ronan commented lightly. Jason froze.

I didn't mean to-

Don't worry about it, Ronan laughed. Given the way you reacted when you started looking at the books rather than just seeing them, it's clear you're a bibliophile as well. Enjoy yourself. I'll let you know if the book you've grabbed is one I feel like reading.

I... thank you. Thank you very much. Jason smiled. Still, for all that Ronan was doing there was a discussion that needed to happen pretty soon...

There is no need to thank me. Sit, we have much to discuss. Ronan suited actions to words, and sat in a nearby chair. Jason put the book back before following.

You were attacked. This will have many consequences on you. You will feel many things. Set them aside. It was not your fault. You did nothing to deserve it. Ronan stated flatly.

Jason knew that Ronan wouldn't say that if he knew about his problem. God, how he deserved that -- how he deserved for Ronan to have simply never shown up, and let them--

Do. Not. Think. That. It. Was. Your. Fault. Ronan snarled, driving his point home with a forceful tone. You did not deserve it, snapping the 'not's as he continued. It is not your fault. You did not deserve it. It will not happen again. You will not let it happen again.

But- Jason half-said, half-thought.

I have said what I have to say. It is the truth. Believe it. Ronan's voice partook of the cold, eternal deliberation of a glaciers stately movement across the land, a thing of slow, stubborn, impossible strength that shaped the land around it. Almost against his will, Jason started to believe. I will repeat it as necessary -- this type of injury is not quickly or easily healed. Jason simply sat there for a moment, letting the words roll across his soul. It couldn't be, Ronan wouldn't say it if he knew, but somehow...

We will speak more on this later. For now, we will discuss other matters that must weigh heavy on you. Your stay here will be for as long as needed, so long as you follow three rules. Jason froze for a second, then nodded swiftly for Ronan to continue. Firstly, do not lie. Do not lie to me, do not lie to yourself. I will tolerate the occasional lapse, but only for so long.

I... Jason paused, choosing his words carefully. I do not make a habit of lying.

Nor did I state that you did so. But do not lie. It is... dangerous. Ronan shook his head. We will discuss that when you are ready, but for now just trust me: humans lie. You cannot afford that luxury if you live here. Deal with it, or not. I will help, as best I can. The second rule is both more important, and less. Do your best. Whatever you put your hand to, give it your best effort. You may fail, you may succeed. It does not matter. Only that you tried, and did your best. This rule is less important than the first one in that a violation will not be as dangerous, nor anger me as much -- such is to be human, all of us need a break, or get lazy, or have troubles. It is more important in that it modifies the first. Do your best to tell the truth, and all will be well for the first. Do your best with the second, and the occasional lapse is covered by having assayed the attempt. Jason blinked. That sounded rather... philosophical?

Are you starting in on philosophy now? Jason jested.

Not yet. That is to come some other day. Ronan said, making Jason blink some more. The final rule will probably surprise you the most. While you dwell beneath my roof, you will train in self defense of some sort. Jason frowned.

OK, you got me. I understand the first two, but... Jason broke off as Ronan scowled, his voice grinding out.

Be careful with your words, Jason. They have more power than you know. You understand all three -- or at the least I should hope so, they are simple enough -- you simply do not understand the reason behind the third.

His voice uncertain, Jason muttered a simple Oh... kay...

Past these, there are some things I expect of you, but these are the core. I will expect you to help keep this place clean, to help cook and to clean after the meals. While you search for a job, of such will be your upkeep; afterwords, we shall split the labor, each cleaning up after ourselves. You will keep yourself and your clothes clean -- reasonably so, at any rate. You'll hunt for a job to help pay for groceries and rent -- don't worry if you can't afford everything, we'll work it out. If you don't already have a college degree, you get to start working on one. You'll talk to me if there is a problem, ask me for help if you need it, and don't be embarrassed about living your life -- and the needs that come of that. Now, any questions? Ronan smiled a wry little smile.

Plenty. Starting with... why? Jason asked.

Why what? Help you? Ronan snorted. Because you're a human being who needs help. You have no place to go -- that was clear last night. So, I will provide. As far as why... Ronan looked into the distance. Duty. Honor. Virtue. He looked directly into Jason's eyes and whispered simply, You need help. You have done nothing wrong. You will get help. If no one else will, I will give it. With a smile and a gesture, Ronan closed the book on that subject. Now, what else?

I... need to think on that. Jason admitted.

Good. Take all the time you need -- you'll find that the events that are about to overtake you will change or answer several of the questions you have yet to ask. Now, let us begin with you learning how to defend yourself.

Alright. Do I have to strip nekkid to do this part?

Ronan roared out his laughter. Hardly! For now, you don't even need to get up out of your seat! We're going to start by going over last night.

What? Jason blurted.

You need to think through the events of last evening. Starting with why you were where you were. Jason didn't notice the hawk-eyed look Ronan gave him as he uttered these words.

No. Jason whispered. I... I can't...

You must. You can. You will. Ronan stated firmly. If you do not wish to discuss it with me, fine. For now, you need not do so. But think on it. Do I have your word you will do so?

Yeah... Jason murmured, looking Ronan in the eyes. He had the distinct feeling this was an important thing to Ronan. Why, he didn't know. Again, he didn't miss the operative word of now.

A vow is a sacred thing. Do not break it lightly -- but do not be afraid to break one should the time come, and the spirit and letter violate each other. Come. Ronan stood abruptly, and Jason began to wonder if he always talked like something out of a book. Come on, chow's on me! Ronan shouted from the kitchen. Smiling, Jason stood up and walked over to the table. Ronan had a frying pan out and on the stove already and was beating some eggs and milk and some other stuff together in a bowel. You like french toast, I trust? I'll add some bacon to the mix, if you want it, or sausage if you prefer.

Either will do me just fine, Jason replied, and before you ask how much, I feel like I could eat a horse.

Good! Ronan snapped back. I like a healthy appetite! I'll make sure to have one when it comes time to cook dinner!

Jason started to smile. Whoever this guy was... he was really starting to like him. Perhaps a little too much...

* * *

Having been fed and watered, and forced to walk through most of last night, Jason took a moment to think about some of the conversation. The word now sure seemed to be the operative word in a lot of sentences. He wasn't ready to talk to Ronan about some things, and Ronan accepted that because in turn...

In turn, Ronan had things he wasn't ready to talk about. Oh, he phrased it like Jason was the one who wasn't ready -- but that was one of the most obvious evasions Jason had ever encountered. A little too obvious, really, but the guy really was being nice, so why push it? Of course, all things are subject to change...

What?! Jason screeched.

As part of learning to defend yourself, you are going to listen to some of my music. Ronan wasn't smiling, at all, but Jason could almost see the shit-faced grin on his face anyway -- something in his eyes. A song or two a day, perhaps, and we'll discuss why the song is important. What you can learn, what you shouldn't miss.

You have got to be joking! Jason couldn't believe this. He thought he was going to be taught martial arts, and now he had a music appreciation class?!

Ronan's voice was terrible, but the song he sang quickly had Jason's blood pumping, even though he cut it short after one verse. No, I'm not joking.

Jason's mouth opened and closed for a moment. Say that again?

No, I'm not joking. Ronan repeated.

Not that, the other part. Jason refused to smile at Ronan's little joke. Ronan repeated it for him. Um, I think...

I know you don't care for bagpipes, but try setting aside the fact that you 'know' they're horrible, and just listen to this song. Ronan walked over to the stereo slowly, as if savoring every movement. Turning it on, he knelt over the computer next to it to pull up the right song. This is the March of Cambreadth, by Heather Alexander. And it embodies the first half of your lesson, a fragment of how to approach a fight.

Setting aside his dislike of the song, Jason blinked as the torture piece from this morning came back on. But this time... he had to admit, it was a rather catchy tune. And the lyrics... Yes, Ronan whispered, this song has power, if you let it. As the song finished, Jason just sat there, stunned. He'd heard... but he hadn't listened, not really. Looking over at Ronan, he understood.

I'd read a bit... that song... it's talking about total war... Have you ever read the Sword of Truth series? Jason's eyes sparkled as Ronan grinned at him.

The bit about 'cutting', I assume? Ronan asked. Yes, that embodies it as well. The author had many things right -- I'm glad you've read him. I think you understand the first point... now hear the next. Ronan turned on a second song, and Jason understood. This song held more than one meaning to it... but he understood the one Ronan wanted.

Cost, he murmured as the song ended, much to Ronan's delighted surprise. Sacrifice, and its joy, yes, but you want me to understand the cost. If I choose to fight, I might die.

Ronan simply smiled. "Close enough for today. Now that we've done that, I'll go ahead and teach you a few of the moves. Remember what else I've taught -- if you use these, use them. Avoid it if you can, but do not be afraid when the time comes. Suiting action to words, Ronan spent the rest of the morning teaching Jason the physical aspect of fighting. By the time they were done, Jason was well ready to take a shower -- a nice, cold one by preference, to bring certain body parts back under control before they got noticed. At least the sweat hid the wet spot on his shorts rather effectively! Ronan also departed to take a shower and change his clothes -- though Jason certainly hadn't made him sweat very much! Jason wondered about that, but figured it was some of Ronan's odd... politeness wasn't the right word, but it was all he could come up with. Jason laughed at the idea of calling Ronan polite". No, not a very good word at all...

As he stepped out of the bathroom, there was a loud knocking at the front door. Tossing his dirty clothes into his room and closing the door on it -- note to self: talk to Ronan about dirty clothes hamper Jason murmured -- he opened the door to Ronan's room and shouted, Someone's at the door!

Well then, Ronan shouted back dryly, why don't you go answer it since I'm still... ah, yes, 'nekkid'?

Laughing, Jason went ahead and did so. What he got... was unexpected.

A rather buxom redhead stormed through the door like she owned the place, and after a moment Jason remembered that for all he knew she did! After nearly running him down, she looked him over before introducing herself. Hello, I'm Lara Murphy, and you are? She started normally enough, but barely waited for a reply before continuing on. Oh, good, glad to meet you Jason, I'm just here to talk to Ronan about some stuff going on downstairs, nothing you need to concern yourself with -- well, not unless you happen to know a good janitorial service that isn't going to do second rate work with our equipment -- and I'm sure you'll know all about it soon enough, because Ronan will fill you in if he wants to let you know, which I'm sure he will since you're in his apartment and don't happen to be related to him -- I mean, you aren't, right? Different last names and all -- which can only mean one of a few things that I can think of, and since I don't think you'd be an old friend since I don't already know you -- oh, and I doubt you'd have that black eye -- so that almost leaves-

Jason gave up on even trying to get a word in edgewise and just smiled as this bundle of energy bounced around, straightening the pillows on the couch, neatening a few things that weren't perfectly aligned with some imaginary grid she could see, and otherwise proceeded to try and drive him mad. Finally, much to his relief, Ronan got around to making an appearance. Lara, don't drive him mad this quickly! he growled lightly as he stepped out the door. Squealing in joy -- no other word could possibly fit the noise she made -- Lara bounced onto Ronan and gave him a very... energetic... hug. Jason thought that energetic was a very good word for her. The site of Ronan's new clothing, very tight fitting, especially in places Jason was now very glad his clothing was loose in, drew his eyes for a few moments before he yanked them back to Lara out of habit.

Can't show that I'm such a pervert, some dark corner of Jason's mind reminded him.

So, what makes you disturb me on my day off? Ronan asked wryly. As if I don't already know!

DBM didn't get to us -- again -- yet still expects to be paid, yeah. Lara replied. Why you haven't already given those idiots the shove off I can't even begin to guess, I mean they've defaulted on the contract enough that we should just take them to court already and-

Lara! Ronan snapped. Did you remember to document this incident properly?

Yes, yes! I still don't know what the point is if you aren't ever going to get around to- Jason was beginning to get bemused. Even Ronan had to fight to get a word in edgewise -- and given what he'd seen of Ronan, Jason was willing to bet that was an unusual occurrence.

The point is, once we have enough documentation -- which I do believe we now have -- we can take them to court for breach of contract and not only get all our money back, but get them to pay for someone else to do the work they should have done in the first place. I am now prepared to take them to court, which should make you happy, and... Hey, Jason, you need a job don't you?

Jason shot a look at Ronan and realized suddenly just how carefully Ronan had been phrasing his sentences. Which I do believe we now have and this new bit of documentation is enough were two totally separate statements. Jason smiled, and wondered just how long Ronan had been planning this. Something to take up later... at the same time he would aske Ronan about how many people he'd rescued so that Jason was yet another rescue effort in progress. The answer should be... interesting. As should some other things.

Of course, some other comments of Lara's gave him a very good idea of how to repay Ronan for his... friendship... At least this time he knew what was coming. And, hell, the second time shouldn't hurt half as much as the first... and if it was a piece with everything else Ronan did, it might not be half bad as... To himself he finally admitted it: being raped. And for a moment, he was lost in memory...

* * *

The bed beneath him was comfortable enough, but it wasn't his own. He punched his pillow for a moment as a surge of anger tore through him, before collapsing again into despondent exhaustion. How could he have been so stupid as to tell his family! He'd had to... but it was stupid! At least Mr. Carpenter has given him a bed for the night. You'll pay me back later, kid, rang in his ears. Yes, he would! He would repay Mr. Carpenter in full, as soon as he figured out how. Slowly he slipped into sleep, and rolled up on his side, legs curling around.

A slight draft woke him up as someone crawled into bed with him. Confused, he softly murmured some nonsense as he tried to shake himself awake, even as rough hands pulled his briefs off in one sudden motion, and forced him on his stomach. Two legs locked in place on either side of his own, and a finger started pushing at his rear-

Ouch! he snapped fully awake as something was thrust deep inside of his most private place. What the hell-

Shhhh, Henry Carpenter whispered above him. It's all right, you're just going to pay me back for this bed now by letting me use it too.

Ow, stop it! Jason began to wriggle and try to get out from under his assailant, but to no avail. Oh god no, no oh god no no no no NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! he screamed, shaking and sobbing. Shame and horror wracked his body, and he could have screamed, but was too busy sobbing in pain and humiliation. Behind him, Mr. Carpenter shifted and placed his weight fully on Jason. Jason's thoughts scrambled as he sobbed, this couldn't be happening, this wasn't right, God save me oh god it hurts please God make him stop oh it hurts...

Jason just slowly tuned everything out. This wasn't happening, the pain was just a bad dream, this couldn't be happening, he'd never 'come out' to his family, he'd never been that stupid, and he wasn't getting raped -- boys don't get raped, some betrayed corner of his mind whispered, we're not supposed to be raped! -- and he barely even noticed as the pain mounted and built but now he was in agony and knew exactly what was happening as Mr. Carpenter finished deep inside him, filling Jason with his poison

With a wet plop Mr. Carpenter pulled out suddenly, leaving behind an aching, empty pain to go with the torn mind and soul. Mr. Carpenter... Jason whispered.

Henry, boy, Henry. Can't call me Mr. Carpenter after I just fucked ya! Mr. Carpenter just walked right out to wash up and go to his own bed, simply not caring about Jason's pain. Behind him, Jason writhed in shame and pain, as he tried to get up and crawl to the restroom, but his body betrayed him, shaking in shock instead, forcing him to remain in the bed as wet liquid oozed down the inside of his legs. Finally, blackness began to fill his vision as exhaustion pulled him under, and he pulled that blackness up over his head like a blanket.

* * *

Earth to Jason, earth to Jason, please come in, Ronan begged softly, holding his hands over Jason's.

What the- Jason started in surprise.

Ronan looked down for a moment, then looked back into Jason's eyes. Either your mind just went on a grand safari, or you had a flashback. And judging from this- he raised a hand to pick up a tear from Jason's cheek -this tells me that it wasn't a pleasant journey, either way.

I- I... Jason stammered.

There is no shame in needing help, Jason, only in needing it and not asking. If you choose, we will not speak of this now. But... any trauma great enough to cause a flashback must be talked over, if ever it is to be set to rest. Jason had the feeling that Ronan knew more than what he was saying, but was holding back out of courtesy. But for the moment something else intruded as his body suddenly remembered the aches and pains of what had happened as something more immediate than memory.

Throwing Ronan aside he sprinted for the restroom, where he promptly lost every single meal he'd ever eaten. Behind him, Ronan simply sighed, then leaned over and rubbed his back, murmuring things like I'm sorry... and It's not your fault into Jason's unhearing ears. Jason felt tired, so tired...

Chapter Two

Getting up from his 'worship' of the porcelain god, Jason stumbled out of the bathroom with Ronan's help the whole way, dropping by the sink to rinse his mouth out quickly on the way. Lara was sitting in one of the chairs, looking concerned, but remained uncharacteristically silent, anger rising in her eyes as she looked at Jason. I'm sorry... he apologized in a whisper.

Sorry? the heat in her voice could boil lava, and as she continued the derision could have stripped paint from the walls. You're... sorry?!

Lara! Ronan snapped.

No, on this subject I know better Ronan, you know that as well as I do! Standing up, she walked over to Jason and grabbed him by the jaw. You have nothing -- nothing! -- to be sorry about. What happened to you was not your fault!

How could you know, you... you! Jason lashed out, voice strengthening.

I know what I know, Lara met his venom with her own. I know trauma such as yours -- I know it all too well! -- and I recognize it. Whatever you may have done -- whatever mistakes you may have made -- it is not your fault. I'm quite sure Ronan has told you that already. Both he and I, and others, will tell you it as often as it takes until you thrice-damned well believe us!

How dare you assume you know what happened to me! Jason raged, muscles trembling as anger lent them sudden strength. "How dare you come into my life and make judgments!"

Because it's what you need! she shot back, her tone verbally batting aside his attack as beneath contempt.

Ronan stood back and watched, shocked. Lara, he still hasn't-

It doesn't matter Ronan, trust me on this, Lara said hotly. I know, as always.

You know nothing! Jason raged, pointing at her -- the first physical emphasis he'd used in this conflict. Anger began to redden his vision.

I know more than you think, young man, and if you happen to be wise you'll listen to me!

Oh really, bitch? You think you know so much, what do you think happened to me, hmm?

Nothing you deserved, nothing you caused, nothing your fault! she prodded back. Ronan got a suddenly thoughtful look on his face, and shot her a look she couldn't miss. She acknowledged it with a quick, shallow nod -- more of a subtle twitch -- as Jason rebutted.

Oh, you know so little. I was fucking raped, and you think you know what happened to me?! Jason paused, startled.

"And no rape victim has ever deserved that. It's not the victims fault, it's the attackers. Always." Lara's voice was suddenly absent all the heat, but lost none of its power.

I... I... Jason stuttered. I didn't mean that! he croaked out hastily. I wasn't... I couldn't have been!

You could. And clearly, you were. Lara advanced inexorably. I won't push you on this for now, but you need to talk. You need to admit what happened -- to yourself as much as anyone else, it would seem -- before you can begin healing. Part of that will be facing down your attacker. Not in real life, though that couldn't hurt, but in your own mind. That helps, believe me it-

What the fuck do you know about it! Jason snapped. I'm the one that was fucking raped!

So was she, Ronan ground out. And this has gone on long enough. You will keep a civil tongue in your mouth when you address her, do you-

Lara wheeled on him. Shut. Up. Now. Her voice held such venom it forced Ronan back a step. Might I suggest you leave us be while we finish this?

Looking between the two of them, Ronan shook his head. He might attack you.

Do you really think I need your protection, Ronan? Her voice just dripped scorn, and Jason snapped his eyes back to her. He had to weigh at least twice what she did, so for her to be so sure...

No, I'm quite sure you don't need protection from him. The reverse... Lara simply smiled, and laughed.

Ronan, after all this time you still-

Your control is... far from perfect. Jason didn't miss the barest flicker of Ronan's eyes towards him. Even if you don't mean to...

He hardly needs your protection, she emphasized the word 'your' oh so slightly, but Jason still caught it, and the undercurrents were pretty unmistakable. If completely enigmatic, still, he knew the solution to Gordian's Knot!

What the hell are you two talking about?

Both of them paused, before Ronan said very carefully, subtly emphasizing one particular word. I don't know what you mean.

Oh, yes you do! Jason spat back.

It would be most unwise to call me a liar, Ronan grumbled.

Fine. Don't give me cause to!

Ronan stalked out, slamming the front door, and Lara rounded on Jason, even as he followed suite and slammed the door to his bedroom.

Lara glanced between the two doors and sighed. Men! Pounding on Jason's door first, she opened it to find him curled up in bed, shaking. Sighing again, she pulled the covers up from his feet, and lying down beside him, covered them both. Holding him tight, she stroked his hair softly. It'll be fine, Jason, everything will be fine... Straightening out a little, Jason rolled over into her embrace, and wept.

How could I do that? How could I let that happen? he just kept muttering things in the same vein, and she didn't bother to alter her reply as she repeated again and again that all was fine, all would be fine. Eventually, he stopped shaking and could actually talk. How could I do that to him?

How could he do that to you! she replied back.

What? Jason spluttered. I'm not talking about the rape, I'm talking about Ronan!

So am I, my dear, so am I, Lara smiled. Simply put, Ronan should have kept his nose out of our business. Interrupting the way he did was a mistake. And both of us screwed up, carrying on with our argument in front of you when we really didn't want to discuss its meaning with you.

You both have secrets, I shouldn't have- Jason began.

You had every right to be curious! Lara cut him off. It's human.

He was so angry... Jason shivered, clutching tight to her.

The hot fire burns fast. He'll calm down, Lara answered his unspoken fear, just give him a little while. Jason sighed, and suddenly realized his position. Jerking away, he opened his mouth to apologize. Lara beat him to the punch, Feeling better? Everyone needs a cuddle now and then, and I don't mind. Jason shut his mouth with a clop, and met her sudden grin with a tenuous smile. Now, I believe Ronan said you needed to find a job?

I- Jason began, then simply nodded as she stood up.

Good. From what Ronan said, I think he was thinking of hiring you as a janitor. Not the best of jobs -- pay won't be great -- but you can get away with being surly and emotional by the simple expedient of refusing to talk to anyone. And before you ask, yes, I speak from experience, Lara led him out of the apartment, into a simple hall with a few doors here and there, gesturing at one. If you ever feel like talking, there's my apartment. My husband won't mind your showing up at odd hours, so feel free to knock.

Husband? Jason asked, startled. Not five minutes ago she'd been cuddled up next to him in a situation that... well, he would hardly want to explain to her husband!

Oh, yes, Nicky and I have been married for a good, oh, three years now. Her back was towards him as she led him down her stairs, her voice interrupting his train of thought. He's quite used to having people show up out of the blue to talk to me -- and I'm quite used to people showing up to talk to him, too. And sometimes more than talk, of course.

Er- Jason began, freezing on the steps.

Oh, don't be silly! Lara giggled, leading Jason to dark thoughts about women who deliberately played with men's minds. And hormones. And maybe more... Neither of us hid our preferences from the other before we were married, and we still enjoy the occasional threesome... and don't mind when the other is in the mood for a different kind of partner, shall we say? So long as everything is open and aboveboard, well... Lara arched a coy glance over her shoulder at him. I imagine he'd love to get you into his bed, but don't worry, he won't even think of trying until you're ready. Mind you, getting back up on the horse will help, but only when you're ready.

Um... Jason began to blush, and turned his head away. Lara chuckled softly, and he could hear the evil grin on her face in the sound. You're doing this on purpose!

Yes, I am. Aren't I a little devil? Jason felt his pants grow a little tight thinking about the implications, and on impulse didn't try to hide it. Oh my, rising to the challenge are we? Abruptly, the realization that he was flirting, talking about sex and teasing this woman hit him, and he deflated instantly as the smile dropped off his face. Lara sighed, Don't worry about it, Jason -- either the start, or the end. In time you will heal.

I- Jason began, uncertain.

You'll find a lot of people around here can read body language very well. Something crossed your mind, and your entire demeanor changed to one of pain -- you're like a puppy, beaten for no good reason, and now you find yourself cringing when you should just enjoy life. And don't worry -- Ronan wouldn't tolerate anyone here who will give you a hassle for your preferences. Better yet, most will be understanding of any troubles you have as a result of your rape. Jason just nodded, and followed her down the steps. As he walked out the steel fire door at the base, he felt a weight settle on his heart. He wasn't sure but...

Lara, did you just say... I mean, I didn't say I was... he began.

Yes. I know you're gay. Lara smiled.

But I haven't told... Jason mumbled, then anger washed over him. You talked to my family!

Lara just laughed. Let's just say I noticed who you paid attention to when I jumped onto Ronan, and it wasn't me.

Leaning against the wooden wall of the hallway, Jason just stared at her. You... you don't think I'm...

Yes, you're gay -- so what? Didn't I just tell you my husband was bi? Lara almost taunted him.

I think I've had just about enough of amateur psychology hour, Jason muttered under his breath. He didn't mean for her to hear him, but judging from the abruptly raised eyebrow he hadn't quite succeeded.

Speak up, Jason, she spoke in soft, almost musical tones. Tell me what you truly wish to say.

Almost against himself, Jason opened his mouth. I don't appreciate being played with. And you're deliberately manipulating me, playing on my mind and emotions like you would some musical instrument. Lara blinked in surprise.

First off, I'm just naturally provocative -- I've been good at that long before I ever learned to do it deliberately. Second, all human beings manipulate each other. The only difference here is that not only am I good at it, but I'm doing it to try and help you, Lara paused for a bare moment before continuing. The fact that you noticed it is surprising, I must admit. Either I'm growing clumsy in my old age, or you're more than meets the eye. The last few words were lightly sung -- Jason winced at how badly she sang that old melody -- as she pranced around a corner at the end of the hallway and out of site. Poking her head back around the corner, she smiled. Come on! If you don't want me to manipulate you anymore, we might as well get started with work!

Laughing, Jason followed. The new weight on his heart lifted... and turned out to be a truck, trucking away a lot of the weight that had been there earlier. As he turned the corner after her, he realized he hadn't once thought of himself, or her husband, as a pervert.

He wasn't sure if that was a bad thing, or a good thing. He'd have to think about it.

The building he was now living in turned out to be the site for a combined gym, self-defense center, and living quarters for the employees. And after an hour or two of scrubbing gym equipment and polishing floors, he quickly understood why they needed a competent janitorial service. By the time Lara was satisfied with his work, everything in the weight room that could be polished, was polished. The very air seemed to gleam. Seeing that he understood the concept, she left him to his own devices in a second room.

Again he worked around people who happened to be working in there, doing everything that wasn't in use, then asking the few people there to move to new machines so he could do those. It was a bi-sex gym, so he didn't worry about getting a hard-on -- even he could tell the women were hot, and he was hardly the only one sporting a rather full crotch. And at least he'd mastered the art of looking at something other than the object he happened to be staring at, unlike most of the men. And women.

After he had oh-so-politely rebuffed several of the women who came over to flirt with him by asking him to spot them or similar nonsense one of the men wandered over to chat him up. Keeping his eyes strictly in place, he continued to work while he chatted about this and that. Eventually the man wandered away, only to be replaced a few minutes later by one of the hottest men Jason had ever seen. Tall, broad shoulders, sharply defined muscles, and not an ounce of fat. Fit, but not overly so -- the muscles were strongly defined, not large. Not a body builder, just someone who was fit. Really fit. Fit enough to last for hours -- days! -- in the sack. His mouth dried out and pulse raised, but with the ease of long practice he hid both symptoms on autopilot, while his mind focused on trying to keep up with the conversation. The occasional 'oh shit' moment as his rape came back broke his hold on the thread of the conversation, but helped keep the one definitive symptom under control. He was so busy with his tasks he didn't notice the number of smirks and 'gawd, what a waste' looks sent their way. He would have been doubly shocked to know that a good half of those looks were for him, not his new friend.

Eventually he finished -- not all that slowly, either, as he'd refused to allow his chat with Eric to slow him down -- and looking at the clock realized how hungry he was. Just as he realized that, Ronan popped his head in, looked around, then stepped all the way into the room. The entire room shifted, and Jason felt that long before he turned around and saw Ronan. It was as if the room had been spinning, and suddenly the axis had shifted around to center on Ronan. He couldn't describe it, couldn't explain what he was looking at or hearing to let him know, but Ronan was at the center of the room, the core of the situation.

Eventually that might get annoying, but for now Jason was just fascinated with how Ronan so effortlessly dominated the entire room, just as he'd dominated their encounters earlier. He hadn't noticed then -- there was just the two of them, and it was subtle enough that his being a 'good guest' had overwhelmed it -- but he recognized the exact same thing at work again, and knew his mistake. He remembered one of his friends, who'd always been rather odd. He'd spent days trying to convince Jason of strange philosophical points, and his favorite -- and one that Jason liked, but couldn't agree with -- was that like most people work to gain physical fitness and others just 'have' it, most people had to work to gain any kind of power, while others just had it. Power, he'd stressed, came in many forms, but all the same -- you could hold political clout or just have a gun, either way you had power and it wasn't smart to tick you off. And here was a personification of his core point:

I could walk into a room with a god-damned assault rifle and point it at the people there. I'd hold power, and make no mistake. But just one man who holds Power could stop me. Yeah, I could shoot him easily enough -- a gun is a hell of a lot of power -- but unless I was real careful, and did everything just right, Mr. Seal or Mr. Ranger or just Mr. Badass Self-defense Nut would be in my face before I could even hope to bring the weapon to bear. He holds Power in and of himself, and if he wants to use it the entire room will revolve around his Power, not my power.

Ronan was Power.

Ronan was a hell of a lot of Power to produce this kind of effect so effortlessly. He was a leader. All his life Jason had heard tales and read books about powerful leaders, who controlled entire armies through force of personality, who commanded the loyalty of all around them by simple charisma and true will. Even their enemies could not help but be affected by that power -- to speak in his friend's terms, that Power -- though that effect was to hate them all the more. Now he knew the truth. No, he didn't have to follow Ronan, he didn't have to give him his loyalty.

But damn, he wanted to!

Worse yet, he saw Ronan looking at him, and knew that Ronan knew. All Ronan had to do was crook his finger, and Jason would throw himself at Ronan's feet, he thought numbly.

Ronan crooked his finger. Jason blinked, and walked over, careful to control himself because Ronan wouldn't want him to be so obvious. Oh, and he didn't want to totally embarrass himself. Ronan led him out of the room, and Jason waved goodbye to Eric as he followed Ronan to his office on the other side of the building. Ronan waved him into a chair, so he sat down. So, you've worked a good four hours. Two rooms cleaned spic and span. You'll get faster, but very satisfactory for a first day. Lara didn't straighten out pay with you first, you should have insisted on that, but for now... Ronan reached into a drawer and pulled out an envelope, and slid it across the desk. Four hours pay at $10 an hour -- that's your salary, starting now -- plus an eight hour advance for tomorrow's work. One hundred and twenty dollars.

Jason opened the envelope and slipped out two twenties, then slid it back. Too much for work I haven't done.

Ronan slid it right back. Every man should have some pocket money, above and beyond expenses, he explained. You need to be able to buy yourself clothes you like, some music, a meal, a book, stuff like that. I'll house you, feed you, clothe you, entertain you at need, but I prefer that you pay for as much as you can yourself. For now, you need some clothes you bought yourself, a little something to decorate your room -- the shelving is empty for a reason, get a book, a knick-knack, something -- and you need to heal yourself. You need to live.

Jason looked at the envelope. Ronan, about earlier-

Forget it. Ronan said flatly. I have a short temper, and you have your own problems. For now, just try and heal.

I... its cliché, but I can't thank you enough, Ronan. Jason whispered softly, tears rising easily to his eyes. Ronan smiled, and shook his head. No, really, thank you.

You're welcome. Now, let's finish our business out here. Ronan leaned back in his chair, and Jason followed suit. "As an employee of mine, you'll receive the $10 an hour salary I already mentioned, along with free use of the facilities and equipment, and a reduced rate for lessons and training above and beyond the minimum I ask of you as my house guest. You'll also receive health insurance through the Gym's health care provider, so a general physical on a regular basis is required -- I'll give you the contact info when we're done, schedule your first soon. Make sure to mention to him the need to be extra thorough and hit all the STDs and other complications you might have. I recommend telling him about your rape, he won't force you to report it, just try to convince you to, and he'll know better how to handle you if you do tell him. I paid you cash for today and tomorrow because tomorrow is the last day of the pay period, so it simplifies