6 posts tagged “tyler”

so, i've decided to call a certain collection of stories "The Forever-Man", since they're all centered around my lovely Al, who, unfortunately for him, is immortal. Though, this one doesn't exactly have him in it.

and i'm playing around with names for certain characters.

as always, enjoy.

NOTE: these sort of take place AFTER all of the major action and plot type of stuff.

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"No... No no no no!" he screamed. "NO!" It was that darkness, that empty place between realms to which he had returned once again. The burning in his flesh was not real, insofar as he knew that his body was only thoughts manifested. Feelings and emotions brought into a familiar illusion so that his sanity may remain intact, for a time.

Quickly, he recalled his final moments before opening his eyes to the darkness of Purgatory once again. He could still feel those hellfire limbs holding him, and see those dimmed green eyes staring down at him in confusion and uncertainty. And the tears...

And the joy. But that joy he felt so strongly inside his heart, burning to his very core was gone now. Replaced with comfort, and a faint sound. Distant, irregular, and somehow peaceful. A heartbeat unlike any other, and after some time, the length of which he was not privy to know, he recognized it to be that of the green-eyed Forever Man.

"He is here."

He turned towards the voice, his ears perked up as he strained to listen again.

"You can sense him, in your own fashion. In mine I can smell whisky in the air. Such a... unique human creation."

He turned a circle, trying to find the source of such a soft, gentle voice. "Where are you?"

"I am everywhere."

"Show yourself!" he demanded, clenching his fists as the heartbeat, that once distant drumming in his thoughts grew stronger, faster.

There was a chuckle. "Calm yourself, child," the voice said in a soothing tone. And upon hearing it, the blue-eyed soul did begin to calm. And the heartbeat began to fade back into a steady hum in the back of his thoughts. It did not dissapear, but remained as a gentle lullabye.

"I am Azrael."

He felt a pull, a panic in his heart. Such a simple statement, a mere name, set into him an instinctual fear. He felt a chill throughout his being, and came to realize a hand was touching him. Clammy, cold. Cold as...

"Yes. And you know why I have come, Aaron."

"That is not my name," he said boldly. "I despise it, just as I despise-"

"God, for having punished you so unjustly."

"Stop doing that!"

He could hear the smile in the voice of Azrael. "I apologize. I do not mean to offend, child. It is merely a... what is that word you mortals are so fond of using? Personality trait? Habit?.... No. Ah, yes. Quirk. I am quite fond of that one myself." He chuckled, and drew his hand away.

The warmth that followed caught the mortal soul by suprise. As he grew accustomed to the feeling once again, he chewed his lip, a nervous tick he supposed. An involuntary response when he would fall into deep thought. Which life had it been when he had last done such a thing?... It was so long ago. It was hazy at best... He spoke, knowing the other already knew his mind, and had read it like an open book.

"You can take me, but you can't have him. Not after what you bastards have put him through."

He could hear Azrael's voice as he spoke quietly to himself. The words he did not understand, but the tone spoke for the meaning well enough.

"I've been prepared for this too many times. Go ahead and take me. I'm ready. I'm done. Just leave him to try again, new and-"

"I have an idea," Azrael interrupted. "If you are up for it."

Once more he felt that cold chill. This time, he braced himself for the quickness with which it spread. He focused on its path, comitting to memory the places where Death would always strike first. "Up for what?" he asked, unable to stop himself from saying them. Were those his words? Or did they belong to the ever growing hellfire burning in the place where he knew his heart should rightly be, if in this place he could claim to have one.

"I am tired of talking to a shadow," Azrael said suddenly. His voice became soft once more as those words which seemed nonsensical to the mortal's ears were spoken.

It was faint, the light. He could not pin down from which direction it had crept upon them from. But he was grateful for such a light in this place of eternal darkness. This waiting room of the damned.

His eyes caught movement, and followed it to see an arm. Fragile, yet he knew it to be quite strong despite. That arm spanned the distance between the hand caressing his own cheek and the lean figure standing in front of him. Such wild hair, and a face that smiled down at him.

He knew that smile. And somehow, he believed, such a smile was shared amongst the hosts of the divine. He had seen it coupled not with sombre grey eyes which looked upon him now, but rather with eyes that shined brilliantly with laughter and excitement; sparkling emerald gems from a face far more handsome than that which belonged to the angel Azrael.

At least, this mortal soul believed it to be far more handsome.

That smile was disarming. Unexpected. And oh so mischevious.

"I was never here," Azrael said carefully.

"What?"

"Simply stated, child," he said. "The angel of death never came to collect you, nor the one you carry inside your heart."

"Can you do that?"

He nodded, his voice taking on a false innocence. "There were so many deaths in that last battle. I may have.... overlooked a few by accident. Working with numbers that large, it can happen." He laughed, and it was a lighthearted sound. "And it's not my fault if those few happen to be a certain four that can't stay out of trouble."

Tyler stared up at him, and could only blink in confusion.

And Azrael pulled his hand away, allowing the warmth within the one he called child to spread throughout once more. "What?" he asked, his angelic voice filled with so very human sarcasm. "You honestly expected me to send the two of you off alone? Preposterous! Where would be the fun in that for me? Besides, if you want that happy ending, you need to do a little something in return."

"Oh no," he replied, shaking his head and holding up his hands to stress his desire to refuse. "I had to sit back and watch the last time someone made a deal with creatures like you. No way. Not going to do it. I have absolutely no intention of living forever, thank you."

"That isn't what I meant," Azrael snapped, slightly offended. But only slightly. He did understand the other's reluctance. "If my records are correct... and they always are, despite the few times I'll accidentally-on purpose overlook little indiscretions, there are two pages of the book in desperate need of repair and revision."

He tried to keep his mouth shut. He tried to understand the subtlties of what Azrael was proposing. However, he found he could not control his mouth and voice, and for a second time words that were not his own erupted forth before considerations could be made. "Where are you going with this, jackass?" Immediately, he clamped a hand over his mouth, and stopped the diarreah of words from going further. After a few moments, and a rather amused chuckle from the angel of death, he sighed. "Sorry. I don't understand what's going on. Something-"

"It appears someone cannot wait his turn to speak."

"Sorry," he repeated.

"Not you," Azrael said, a slender finger prodded his chest, over where his heart should rightly be. Where the warmth had grown and settled into a comfortable, disjointed pulsing sensation. "Him. Please, do try to keep him from forcing you to say stupid things. It is most unbecomming of you."

And Tyler smiled quietly to himself, reaching up to hold his hand against his chest fondly. "I... We'll do it, that is, as long as it does not turn into another of your divine scavenger hunts."

Azrael nodded and held up a hair. "On my honor, you won't have to go hunting for them. They will, in fact, find their own ways to you. Where you will look after them until Raz has finished making the apropriate changes."

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 "Alejandro," he said, sitting up in the bed. "We should move in together."
 "What?"
 "You've been here more than you've been at your own place. It makes

sense."
 "But what about-"
 Kallen cut him off with a laugh. "Don't start. You know I'm right."
 "I don't think we're ready for that."
 "You can't be serious. We've known each other since the school yard days.

And honestly, how often are you actually at your own appartment in any given month?"
 "Well-"
 "And how do you expect to raise up Damien when you're not home half the

time?"
 "My mom helps."
 "You mean your mom is doing your job for you." Kallen shook his head,

throwing back the covers and climbing out of the bed. "You and Damien are moving in

with me and Erick. And you're not going to argue. Besides, it'll be good for the boys to

have someone to play with, and a nice, stable family enviroment."
 Alejandro sighed, nodding. He couldn't argue with Kal. After all, the man

was brutally honest. He pulled the blankets up further, wrapping it around himself to

keep warm in his lover's absence. "Kal, what will I do for work?"
 "You've always wanted to work in a museum, right?" he replied, asking as

he buttoned up his uniform shirt. "You have a doctorate in paleoanthropology. And

you're squandering it away working as a secretary in a... what's that place do again?...."

Kallen turned his head to smile at him. "Ah! That critter cloning place, where they make

the ones we can eat. Never did quite understand that..." It was a goofy, awkward smile,

almost as if it didn't quite belong on his face. "I'll put in a good word for you with the

curator when I see him."
 "Kal, really, you don't have to."
 He strapped on his belt, checking to make sure his flashlight and mace were

in their compartments. "No, but I want to. You deserve it, and it's what you've always

wanted since we were kids." He laughed, going back to the bed to lean in and kiss his

cheek. "When I get back, you'd better be home with Damien and packing your things."
 He felt his face burning, and his mouth a little dry. "This is just so much so

fast. I mean, are you sure? There's barely enough space for you and Erick here. I don't

want to-"
 The taller blond laughed. "I told you, don't start. And stop worrying about

everything."
 "Well excuse me if I can't be as carefree as you are. My brain is fully

functional."
 "Hey!" he laughed, ruffling his lover's hair before stealing another kiss. "You

can mock my off-key singing, and even my creepy late-night muffin baking binges. But

never mock my brain." He smiled that awkward smile again. "It can't understand the

subtle bits."

So, it's another Alabaster dribble. But it's a fresh one. That I wrote this morning/afternoon. It still has that new car smell.

Mmmm.... New Car.....

Anyway, they are a bit... sad. meh, more like bittersweet, i think.

They were all inspired by the following images:

Meh. Enjoy. n.n

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 "I... I can feel you," he whispered, timidly stroking his jet black cheek. "Everything you felt. The pain... the loss... and the little moments of joy. Hope, faith, doubts... Love. I can feel it all, inside my heart, and burning into my soul."
 The demon stared at him. But what Ty saw in his eyes were a mere moment of recognition. He only saw the animal, the beast now unchained, and wholly a creature of instinct.
 He felt a pang of loss weaving through the waves of joy. His best friend, the man he loved enough to suffer time and again the pain of death and rebirth, had given his life. No, more than that even. He had sacrificed his very soul for the sake of the human race...
 For him.
 He felt shame then. Washing over him abruptly. "I'm so sorry..." he said, his voice cracking as his hand slipped away and  his head dropped to stare down at the blood drenched clothes that clung to him. Tears, warm and bitter rolled down his cheeks. But he could not will them to stop.
 All of the knowledge, wisdom, and power of God at his command. And he could not keep from crying.
 There was a slight stinging at his chin, as a razor sharp claw tried gently to urge him to look upwards. Slight pressure. Barely a cut, barely a scratch. It felt more like a papercut. He knew, despite the irritation it caused him when it touched his skin that it was meant to be a kind, careful gesture.
 When his head lifted, and his eyes trailed up to meet the green gaze staring back at him in confusion, he noticed a thick, dark liquid forming along the bottom lids, building up at the corners and trickling oh so slowly down the hellfire heated cheeks. Crimson trails with crimson droplets were the only sign of this demon, this monster's sadness.
 And then, the monster, despite their shared tears, broke into a smile. And that smile gradually became a smirk as the demon reached up to try and stroke his hair, only to stop before he touched the golden locks and shake his head as if in laughter at his near-mistake.
 The soft flicker in the green eyes brought to mind a laugh. Sinister and amused at once. And though the demon did not speak, Tycen realized what the other had already known. That pull of emotion, tugging at his senses and his thoughts was a reminder. The realization that the man who had caused him so much heartache, and had made life worth living every time was not lost.
 He was still there, held within himself. No longer the shining knight he had strived so hard to be. No. Now, it was the Forever Man who needed protecting. He had become Tycen's secret treasure.
 Belial's smirk faded, and a frown came to his hideous features as he tilted his head. Green eyes stared at him in confusion. He did not understand what was happening to the human in his lap.
 It was the human's turn to smile, and give what small comfort he could as the familiar darkness began to settle in. The void between one world and the next that he knew so well beckoned to him.
 And for the first time, that blue-eyed soul knew that he wasn't going to be there alone.

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He didn't look at him as he tightened his belt, though he longed to burn the scene into his mind. The blond had not only reached 30, he had surpassed it by four years. And now lay stretched out on a pile of rags beside the dying fire. Thought it should have been a happy occasion, their union would not last. The morning brought with it a truth bittersweet.

"No matter what happens," he started, dropping down to fasten the buckles on his boots. "I'll will always love you. Have always loved you."

"Al, what are you saying?"

"I'm going to do it. I'm going to face them, and-"

"You don't know what will happen." He sat up, letting the thin blanket fall to his waist as he watched the relic of a man. "That much power... you know you can't handle it. You can barely keep a balance with yourself. It would kill you."

"I have to. I'm the only one that can," he said, about to rise to his feet again. But a gentle hand stopped him with a touch to his elbow.

"You said there's others like you. And then there's the angels. They could help us find another way. A way that doesn't involve you going on a suicide mission, and leaves us to run off together."

He smiled, turning his head at last to look at him. After a moment, he gave a soft chuckle. "That's a load of bullshit and you know it. We've exhausted all other options, Ty," he said. "For once, please just admit that I'm right."

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"I... have this gift, you see. I used to think it was a curse, but I know different now. It was my salvation."

"I don't understand."

"I can, I have saved damned souls by taking their sins away, taking them into myself. I used to have an actual system in place. Lots of paperwork. You should know, you were there. But then... there were others. More complex that required more... personal means of conduct."

He narrowed his eyes, puzzling it out before turning a faint shade of red. "Oh... So that's what you were calling it."

He nodded, his own cheeks turning a little pink. "It sustains me, the power of sin. It's what makes me immortal. Allows me to survive. The more I take in, the more I devour, the stronger I become. But I change," he said, casting his eyes away. "There's something inside me that grows powerful, too. Each time I take in more, the hunger grows. And now, it's unbearable. I lose myself, and it consumes me."

"You're becomming like them. One of those... creatures. The Legion."

Al sighed, propping himself up on his elbows as he let his head fall back to stare up at the stars. He had forgotten how beautiful such a sight was. It was calming, serene. But such emotions did not comfort him now. There were things he needed to say, to explain, just in case when the deeds were done, and the dustclouds settled... Tycen would understand what had happened to him, and why he may have to do the unthinkable.

"Al?" he asked, shifting to lay on his side, a nimble hand sliding across the immortal's exposed abdomen. Fingertips tracing scars over a lifetime old. "You know how to stop it, right? You've gone for 2000 years keeping it under control. Why can't you-"

"In the past, I've had friends, even a family. They gave me hope, and strength. And I could keep the balance, knowing that they believed in me, and cared for me. I wanted more than anything to keep them safe. They gave me a reason to keep the demon chained."

He leaned in close, pressing his lips against Al's shoulder with a sigh. "What about me?"

He smiled, turning his head and returning the affection with a light kiss to the younger's forhead. "Strawberries," he said, shifting his weight so that he too was on his side, facing the 34 year old.

"What?"

"You taste like strawberries."

"That's hardly the thing to say at a serious time like this."

"Is it?" he said, smirking and draping an arm over Tycen's side, pulling the mortal against him. "I crossed radioactive continents. Eight different wars, five of them with only one eye and a chunk of shrapnel in my lung. I've had people standing right next to me one minute, and the next they've got a bullet in their brain. Vampires have tried to use me as their never-ending food source. And I've taken a walk around the moon without a space suit." Al smiled, and it was a mischevious one. "And all the while, the one thing that kept me going was that maybe, just maybe, I might find that person that always made me think of strawberries every time I was lucky enough to get a taste."

Tycen laughed, pressing his forhead against the other man's shoulder and shaking his head. "You and your stories. You always have to make things sound so dramatic. News Flash Al, you're not the center of the universe."

He couldn't help but join his laughter. "But it's true though," he said between breaths. "You do taste like strawberries."

As the pair fell into another fit of laughs, the darkness of Al's thoughts receeded. Replaced by the smile on his lover's lips and the warmth found in his large blue eyes as he took him again beside the fire.

The grim discussion was put off in favor of comfort and solace in one another's arms. But as he listened to the blond's breathing later in the night, he knew the dawn would find them, and force him to explain himself in full.

so, due to the fact i had nothing better to do while waiting with my mom in the ER, i pulled out my notebook and began to write random dribbles wherein me and my rp friends (some of them whom i no longer rp with at all) ended up being somehow turned into their 11-12 year old selves, and end up at Hogwarts as first years, while Harry Potter and the gang are in their 5th year.

this is what came of it...

enjoy.

also, this will not make ANY sense whatsoever.

oh! and ALSO..... there is no specific chronological order here. so don't worry if you get confused. n.n

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things to note: Randy, Tyler, Sam, Ryan, and Al were all turned into younger children, yet retain their adult mindset, which of course will get them into trouble. the corresponding ages are:

Al - real age 33, new age 12

Sam - real age 32 (to start with), new age 11 (to start with)

Tyler - real age NA (died at 29 i believe, but mentally he's around 31?), new age 11

Ryan - real age NA (possibly around 30 or 31, but definately younger than Tyler by a bit, and younger than the others), new age 11

Randy - real age 31, new age 11

so, some acts that are not "kosher" for children are alluded to or actually interrupted (most likely by Ginny or Hermione) are in the opinion of the author perfectly fine as long as they happen amongst Al, Sam, Tyler, Randy, and Ryan since technically all five of them are over the legal age of consent... just putting that out there.

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 What did he ever do to deserve this? He asked himself that numerous times over the last few weeks. At least he could see again. That was a positive sign, so they told him. But judging by what he saw, he doubted that.
 "Al! Stop running around naked!" Randy shouted, grabbing him by his shaggy black hair long enough to force a robe on him at least.
 Sam muttered under his breath as he smacked his head against the table with a loud crack. And Tyler... Well... He seemed to be coping with their unusual situation rather well, all things considered.
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 "...This is not what I had in mind when I decided to go through my mid-life crisis early..." Sam muttered as Al finally settled down. Bribed with cake and bacon of course.
 Zeke smirked. "Finally, I am taller than Sam. This has been an excellent day."
 "How long until this all wears off and we're back to normal?" Tyler muttered.

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 "Samuel Devlin."
 He rolled his eyes and dragged his feet as he went up to sit in the chair. The talking hat dropped on his head, and it began to mutter to him.
 "Hrm... You don't like books so Ravenclaw isn't for you... And what's this?... Odd... You don't like school either, but Gryffindor is definately not for you... You're misunderstood, but you'll try to bite the first Hufflepuff that smiles at you..."
 "Get on with it, asshole," Sam replied darkly.
 "No doubt about this one," the hat replied sarcastically. "Slytherin!"
 "Totally called that one," Tyler said to Randy, who dropped a few gold pieces into his hand.
 "Alabaster Willem."
 "Looks like I'm next," he said with a grin, pinching Tyler's back, then Randy's as he passed by to take his turn in the chair.
 He plopped down, grabbed the hat, and put it on his head. "How do I look?"
 The hat grumbled at him in annoyance as Al adjusted it on his head.
 "Mr. Willem, please put your hands in your lap," McGonagll said insistantly.
 "That's not a good idea!" Sam called from the table of Slytherins.
 The hat continued to grumble. "You like to read trashy novellas," the hat said. "But not anything of use. No Ravenclaw for you, young man... You're too odd even for Hufflepuffs, I hate to admit. Tricky tricky..." it muttered.
 "If you take any longer, I'm gonna 'ave 'ta wear ye 'round school till ye figure this bullshit out."
 "Mr. Willem!" the professor snapped. "You will watch your language."
 "Yeah yeah..." he muttered.
 "You'd make a good Slytherin, that's obvious. But that last one's a trouble maker by himself. Let's not put you in the same house as him."
 "Please? I promise I'll behave."
 "Not likely," the house replied. "Gryffindor!"
 Randy and Tyler both sat with their mouths hanging open. "Well," Ryan chimed. "Nobody saw that comming, did they?"
---------------------------------
 Sam stumbled down the stairs, feeling around with one hand while holding his shorts up with the other. He wasn't keen on how big they were, but this early in the morning, he didn't care. First order of business after the bathroom... food. And coffee. If he could sneak the non-decaf past Al that is.
 Trodding across the hardwood, barefoot of course, his ears perked up at the sound of someone in the livingroom as he passed. "Al, you up?"
 Stupid question. He'd left him curled up naked at the foot of the bed like some kind of dog.
 It couldn't have been the twins. They hardly ever surfaced before 3PM at the earliest. Unless Eli had to work. Nessa then?
 No. He wasn't hearing the constant keyboard typing.
 Didn't matter. Food first. Then he would worry about burglers.
 He pushed his sunglasses up on his face before feeling around on his way to the kitchen.
 What he found was something he hadn't been expecting. The smell of freshly fried bacon. And someone just barely tall enough to work the stove.
 "What the hell?!"
 The boy squeaked, jumping back from the stove and the frying pan as if he'd been burned by grease. Sam got a good view of his face. Which didn't register on him right away. Something else did though...
 "WHAT THE FUCK! YOU'RE DEAD!"
 "OH MY GOD! YOU CAN SEE!"
 They were silent, staring at each other a moment before Sam blinked, and slowly realization hit him. Yes, he really could see.
 "Just what I fucking need. Another goddamn corpse in my kitchen."

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 "Randalph Harrison."
 She had just barely put the hat on his head before it began to speak to him.
 "Oh you're an odd one. Very bright. Booksmart you are. And very loyal... But you're deceptively cunning, too. Where to put you... where to put you..." it said softly, trying to make up it's mind. "Oh, what's this? I see..." it muttered. "HUFFLEPUFF!" 

 "Christopher Sedgwick."
 Tyler pushed his way forward, much to the surprise of his friends. Timidly, he sat in the chair, and the hat was put on his head. It was silent for a long moment before it began to speak.
 "...Oh... You're a strange one... Similar to your friends I see. But different... This isn't your first time being sorted... Another name comes to mind. Another time. Hufflepuff you were sorted into before. But much has changed. You're wiser than you were back then. Driven some could say..."
 His friends looked on, and the two red heads, identical Al noticed, were muttering amongst their friends about how long it was taking.
 "This is the longest I've seen the hat take," one said.
 "Since Harry got sorted his first year," finished the other.
 The hat went silent, considering the revelations it was picking up from the student beneath it. "Now that's interresting... A Gryffindor loyalty. With a splash of Slytherin cunning. No doubt things you've picked up along the way... But I think you'll do your best in... RAVENCLAW!"

 The hat didn't even touch the top of Ryan's head before it was already speaking. "You're completely insane," it said, not even having touched him before it shouted where he was to be sorted. "HUFFLEPUFF!"

 "Well then, guess we're not bunkmates anymore," Al said with a smirk.
------------------------------
 "Ye gods these robes're itchy as hell," Al complained, pulling his off and dropping it on the seat beside him.
 Sam rolled his eyes, staring out the window of their compartment.
 Ryan, who's feet didn't even hope to touch the ground, was kicking said feet in bordem.
 "I think we should be focusing on how to get out of this predicament," Randy suggested, reading through one of the tomes he had picked up in Diagon Alley while Al had been busy arguing with the owner of the shop about the lack of books he had dubbed "Porn Without Pictures."
 "Besides," he continued. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I really don't want to go through puberty again. The first time was embarrasing enough. There were feathers everywhere. So many feathers..."
 Sam laughed, and it was a strange, `squeaky sound. "What the hell are you, a fucking bird?"
 Tyler had been conspicuously quiet since they had boarded the train. Which, wasn't much of a difference to how he had been before. But when the treats cart came by, his eyes lit up and he bought an arm load of enchanted chocolate goodies.
 "Oi! What about the rest of us!" Al exclaimed when Tyler had refused to share.
 Sam gave off that same squeaky laugh. "You don't need any more sweets. Your ass already takes up most of the seat!"
 Al turned and punched him hard in the arm with a growl.
-------------------------
 "I wonder if I'm still undead," he mused, looking up from his potions homework.
 Sam smirked. "We could always test that theory," he said, his pre-teen face giving his wolfish grin a slightly more manic appearance than usual. "I read in one of my DADA books about a killing curse. It sounds promising."
 "I'm in the same class. It's not in the-"
 "I didn't say it was in the text book, jackass. It was in one I swiped from the restricted section."
 Al considered this for a moment. He'd heard rumors about one of his housemates and a killing curse. And he'd asked Tyler about it since he spent most of his time researching and reading anyway. "We gotta be careful though," he said at last. "It's s'posed to be one that'll get us kicked out."
 "Plus, if it works and you die, they'll think it was that Voldy-something or other that did it anyway."
 Al nodded. "Worth a shot. And if it doesn't work, would make for one hell of a practical joke on the guys."
 And that's how Sam and Al received their very first detention after testing out their idea unintentionally during the Halloween Feast five days later.
 It was much to many students', and some of their instructors' suprises that the pair had managed to last a month and a half before landing into detention. However, it was no suprise that the act which had earned it for them was something they had done together.
------------------------------
 "Oh ho. Pureblood. Wouldn't have known that by looking at you boy... Ironic isn't it?... But where to put you? A natural trouble maker. With a touch of hidden loyalty... but you have father issues, that you do. And a pessimist too. SLYTHERIN!"
--------------------------
 "Where have you been? Curfew-"
 "Fuck the curfew," Al said quite happily. "I just had me a good-"
 Randy clamped his hand over Al's mouth with an embarrassed smile. "Don't mind him. We had an accident in Charms today, and he's unable to stop talking before he speaks. Unfortunately, it's so strange and bizzare that we don't know how to cure him of it. So we were told to wait and let it wear off on its own."
----------------------------
 "So..." Al said.
 "We're stuck like this. Indefinately," Sam muttered, letting his head fall forward and smack his forhead on the table with a loud crack. "I hate my life. Again."
 "Look on the bright side," Ryan said dreamily. "At least we're all together and relatively healthy."
 Tyler stared at him a long moment before shaking his head. "Someday, I'm going to obliviate this entire experience from my mind and hide among the muggles again."
------------------------------
 " 'Christopher Sedwick'? " Al asked, giving his oldest friend a strange look.
 Tyler sighed. "Well... technically... yeah. At least, I think. I'm not sure. I've been reading up on the subject of reincarnation recently and-" He cut himself off and sighed. "You must think I'm losing my marbles."
 Al smiled kindly at him, which made him seem even more innocent than he truly was. He put a hand on his arm gently. "Listen mate," he said. "Ye know ye can always talk ta me 'bout crazy shit, yeah. I mean, look at me, I don't even know if I'm ever gonna be older than 12 again. Undead aging problem, remember?"
 He laughed softly to himself, indeed remembering his friend's predicament. "Well," he said. "There's this one concept that seems to get glossed over in all the books I've found. Well, except a few from the mug- I mean, from 'our' proper world. Most of these books here are just on the theory, not the actual... well, reality of it. And they just briefly mention the case of a 'walk-in'. I mean, I died, remember. Not that long ago, right?"
 He nodded. "Round two, three years ago. Yeah," he said.
 "So how can I be here, if I'm dead? This is an 11 year old body, Al. I didn't regress like you guys, but I didn't grow up to match either. I think something might have happened to the real Christopher, and somehow I got mixed up and sort of ended up here by accident."
 "So... lemme follow this," the raven haired boy replied. "What yer sayin is that it's like a revolvin door er a turnstile, right?"
 "What?"
 "Y'know. Like, one person's tryin ta go out the door, yer tryin ta go in. So, one of ye hops in one side of the door thing, the other guy hops in the other side, and ye just kinda push the door in a circle, right. An then yer inside an he's outside."
 It took him a moment to follow the logic. After all, Al tended to have strange analogies in his version of understanding. Which meant his logic wasn't always sound nor made much sense. After a bit, he nodded. "Yes. Something like that. Only in this case it's not a door, it's a body."
 "I think I get it," he said, leaning back in his chair and considering the idea a moment longer. "An ye think this is what happened? Like, ye was reincarnated, but not in the usual fashion of jus bein popped out of some lady's gut?"
 "That's the basic idea." He'd forgotten how dense his friend truly was. For someone who understood life and death in strange ways, Al definately wasn't able to grasp the more outlandish concepts. "But don't tell the others. Not just yet," he said.
 "I swear it, on me honor, yeah."
 This made him laugh quietly again. "Your honor? Since when did you have honor, you crossdressing manwhore," he snickered.
---------------------------
 "They're definately a strange bunch," Hermione commented.
 Ron nodded. "Since when did Slytherins hang out with anyone else but themselves anyway?"
 Ginny smiled. "Does it even matter?"
 "What? You got a crush on that scraggly one?" Ron asked, and he certainly wasn't amused. "I won't allow it."
 Hermione giggled. "I don't think he's your type Ginny," she said. "After all, have you seen the way he leers at that Ravenclaw?"
 "You don't mean..." she said in astonishment. Hermione nodded. And the two girls broke into a gigglefit.
 Ron cast Harry a look of horror and confusion, but mostly horror. "Save me," he said. "These girls won't stop."
 Harry joined in their laughter, not even knowing what it was about. But judging from the look Ron gave him, it must have been really something.
-----------------------------
 Randy sighed, gathering up the feathers tangled up in his bedsheets for the eighth morning in a row. "I can't wait until we get this mess sorted out," he said to Ryan. "I don't think I can take much more of this molting."
 "At least you'll have enough for a pillow soon," he said, kicking his feet as he watched from his bed. "Two in fact. Could you make me one?"
------------------------------
 "Mr. Willem! Mr. Devlin! Stop putting charms on Mr. Potter's robes!"
 "What?" Al whined. "I just wanted to see if all the rumors were true!"
 Sam stifled a snicker. It wasn't the first time he'd let Al's big mouth take the fall for him.
------------------------------
 "Nocturne Alley? You do know what they say about-"
 "Oh shut it," Al said. "They have some kick ass shops down yonder. Like this one place, makes a hell of a lot better wands than that Ollivander bastard."
------------------------------
 Dumbledore's Army. Now that looked promising. Plus, Sam surmised, he really didn't have anything better to do since the others had decided to actually focus on their homework lately.
------------------------------
 "Must you transfigure everything into KFC?"
 "What?" he said, licking his fingers. "Those damn house elves don't make fried chicken with the right signature spices I like. Plus, this is deep fried death and heaven at the same time. I WILL NOT BE DENIED!"
 Al blinked, staring at him before taking his bucket of chicken away. "Oh no ye don't," he said in the slightly mothering tone he had used so often on him. "I'm not goin through all that heart trouble mess with ye again."
 "But Al..." he whined.
 "No."
------------------------------
 He stood back and watched the others practice for a while.
 "Come on, you next Sam," Ginny encouraged, giving him a slight push. It wasn't the first time. She'd been on him all evening about joining in.
 Al strode out from the group across the room, his wand in its holster on his wrist.
 Sam smiled, slightly manic looking before nodding. "I think I will," he said, taking up the opposite end of the hall.
 "This is going to end in tears," Tyler said to himself with a sigh, pinching between his eyes.
 "Oh ho?" Al said, smirking. He looked like a geek when he did that.
 "Prepare to get your ass whipped," Sam said, returning the smirk as he pulled out his basilisk wand.
 "Stupefy!" they shouted at the same time, wands out. Their attack hit in mid air.
 "Stupefy!" they shouted again.
 This went on five more times before finally they both went flying backwards, still shouting and flinging it at each other despite the fact they were flying through the air into a good hard fall.
 "I'm gonna borrow this for a sec." Tyler couldn't take it anymore and grabbed Ryan's wand. Holding out both his and Ryan's he shouted out at them both from the crowd on his side of the room. "Stupefy!"
 The pair of trouble makers landed on the ground with a combined grunt and a whine.
 "Stop having pissing contests before you hurt yourselves! The both of you!" he snapped at them, and when both got to their feet again, they rejoined their respective sides of the room with their heads down.
------------------------------
 "Expecto Petronum!" Sam shouted, flicking his wand. From the stream of light that burst forth, a cat jumped out, chasing a ball of string.
 "Well that's just weird," Ron said. "Who conjours a ball of string with their's?"
 Hermione shrugged. It was the first she had ever heard of it.
 But not to be outdone, Al pulled out his wand.
 "Oh god, here we go again," Tyler intoned, which seemed to have become his mantra whenever the pair were together.
 Swishing his wand about, Al shouted. "Expecto Petronum!"
 And out popped the most adorable chihuahua anyone had ever seen.
 "Awwwww! Look at it! It's so cute!" Ginny cooed.
 Tyler stared at it for a long moment before looking at Al. Now that was a scary thought indeed. Such a tiny little dog for such an imposing person?...
 Then he noticed it was acting a little... odd.
 "No! How do you turn this thing off!" Al shouted, swishing his wand about as his little doggie chased Sam's cat around while yapping loudly.
 "Drop the wand! Drop the wand!" Sam was shouting.
 Tyler stared as Ryan and Randy giggled amonst themselves.
 "Eye bleach! Eye bleach!" Ron shouted, covering his eyes.
 And so it was decided that Sam and Al would never be allowed to cast their Petronums at the same time, or even in the same room. As they tended to... do very rude things to one another.
-------------------------
 "You're so weird," Ginny said, walking with him. "For a first year, I mean."
 He shrugged. He may have been 12, but since he'd never been to Hogwarts, let alone a magic school before, he, like Sam, had been stuck with the younger crowd.
 "Eh. There's always gotta be an odd ball in the house I guess," he replied with a grin, scratching the back of his neck.
 "So is it true? Did you really flirt with Malfoy?"
 He stared at her for a moment before laughing. "Nah. He's not really my type."
 Her eyes widened. "So you really DO like-"
 "Shh..." he said, hushing her. "Don't get too loud. I don't need the whole damn school knowin, alright."
 She nodded, looking around before speaking again, this time in a hushed tone. "So who was it?"
 "What?"
 "Which Slytherin were you flirting with?"
 "Yer gonna laugh," he said.
 "Promise I won't."
 "Yeah ye are."
 "I will not!"
 "Shhh!" he hissed at her.
 "Right," she said, giving a nod. "But you've got to tell me. I promise, not a word to anyone."
 "Especially Ron?"
 She nodded. "Especially Ron."
 "...Sam Devlin."
 "Oh my god," she managed to exclaim quietly. "Really? I didn't think he..."
 "He is. And, tell ye a secret, I know three other blokes too."
 "You don't mean..."
 He nodded. And her suspicions had been confirmed.
-------------------------
 So the story goes...
 Al has a crush on Sam, who's Ryan's older half-brother, who has a crush on Tyler, who's Randy's fraternal twin brother, and the pair of them are second cousins with Al.
 So the story goes.
 But only one man knows the truth.
 And his name is Albus Dumbledore.
-------------------------
 "Well... one year of Hogwarts done, six more to go apparently."
 Tyler sighed. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that. Hearing it out loud is discouraging."
 "I heard they're testing out the co-ed program at the Salem Institute," Al said. "Could always go into the exchange program, even though we're all Americans."
 "Everyone but you," Sam reminded him. "You have to go back to Dublin."
 "Nuh uh. Nessa's living at the Manor now, remember. At least until we get this mess sorted out."
 "You mean until we grow up," Tyler said. "Again."
 "Hey, at least this time you might make it to thirty," Al said cheerfully, which had the opposite effect.
--------------------------
 Tyler and Randy spent much of the summer pouring through volumes upon volumes of various family histories, trying to discover any clue as to what had happened to them and why. Apparently, Sam was a pureblood as far as the wizarding world was concerned, and Al only a half-blood.
 Whereas Tyler "Christopher", Randy, and Ryan were all muggle-born.
---------------------------
 "A plague," Tyler concluded.
 Al's eyes grew wide in panic. Sam chuckled.
 "More specifically," Randy supplied. "A curse. And not a simple one either. This one's old, hundreds of years in fact. Al, you'd know this one. Remember back in highschool in English we were reading Romeo and Juliete?"
 He nodded. "Yeah. But I don't see what this has to do with-"
 " 'A plague o're both your houses.' " Tyler quoted. "Mercutio, Romeo's best friend."
 Again, Al nodded. "But I still don't see-"
 "It's based on a true story. Tristan and Isolde. But... let's put this into terms we'll all recognize. Capulets and Montegues," Tyler said. "Sam and Al, you'll be the basis for this. Sam is the Capulets, while Al, you're the Montegues."
 "So where does that leave you three?"
 "I'm getting to that," he said. "Since we lack a Juliette-"
 "Okay, wait. It'd make more sense if I was Romeo, and Sam was the Prince. See, that would make you Juliete. Cause Romeo stole Juliet from the Prince."
 Tyler blinked, then blushed fiercely at his logical deduction.
 "So where does that leave me and Randy?"
 "Well, if we incorporate Al's oddly timed and rather insightful logic, that would make Randy... hrm... Rosaline. Yes, Rosaline."
 Randy nodded appreciatively. "Since I was in an official relationship with Romeo here first, and in the story, Romeo pines after Rosaline before meeting Juliet."
 Tyler nodded. "So now, we have the problem of Ryan."
 "Hey! I'm not a problem!"
 "Wait wait wait a minute here," Sam interrupted. "Romeo dies in the story. As we can clearly see, Al is very much alive."
 "Not quite," Tyler said. "He's undead. And he died before Juliet. Considering Al's condition when we met him, he is very much dead."
 "Undead," Al corrected him with a grumble.
 Tyler sighed, rubbing his temple. "For the sake of explanation, let's just say you're dead, alright. It'll make this much easier to comprehend."
 "Alright, fine," he said, crossing his arms over his chest with a groan.
 Tyler rolled his eyes. Randy nodded. Ryan wasn't paying attention at this point.
 "Okay, the main characters. So Romeo died first. Al died before all of us. Juliet died second, I was the first to our knowledge to die after Al. Depending on which version you're looking at, the Prince would also die, but he's a minor character so it's a moot point by then. In other versions, he lives. So, Sam's still alive, he's the Prince. Randy's still alive, so he's Rosaline who we never actually see, on account of him officially dating Al first. And since Ryan clung to Al all the time, and was always jealous of the rest of us that makes him..."
 "Tybalt!" Sam shouted cheerfully. "Who gets shot in the head!"
 "No," Al said. "He gets shot in the chest."
 "I thought it was the side," Randy supplied.
 Tyler threw his hands in the air. "I give up. Ryan is Mercutio, alright."
 The three others considered this for a moment, then turned to stare at their fifth wheel. "So... he's to blame?"
 "Maybe. Maybe not. But there's definately a plague, I mean curse, on both your houses."
 "So how did you guys get mixed up in this?"
 "Well..." Tyler began, and Randy jumped in.
 "See, what happened is we traced back as far as we could all of our family trees. Sam's was the worst because we only had his mother's side, and not his real dad's," he said. "But, as far as we can tell, and this is going to sound gross and odd at the same time. Somewhere way back in history, my ancestors and Tyler's original ancestors were related. I came off a branch from a daughter, he came off a branch from a son. Ryan and Sam's ancestors have the same issue. You're suprisingly not related to us in any way. Which is kinda good, I suppose, but not really. See, your line is related to Ryan and Sam's by marraige only, and it was an arranged one too. Thus officially and legally binding your family trees. So, sleeping with Ryan is a very, and I stress this VERY distant form of incest."
 Sam stared at him a moment, then looked at Al. And the pair blinked at each other. "Well," Al said at last. "At least that explains where Eli and Zeke got that gene from."
 "Hey! You're the one that made a move on me!"
 "As if! You drunkard shoved your hand down my trousers!"
 "You shoved my smokes down there!"
----------------------------------------
 "So, now that we kind of maybe have an idea of what caused this mess, is there any way to reverse it?"
 "Unfortunately... we haven't worked that part out yet."
 Randy nodded in agreement.
 "I swear to GOD if I don't finish puberty soon I'm going to kill every one of you! Starting with Ryan and working my way through to Al!"
 "On the plus side," Randy offered. "We can completely embarrass our children by telling them what to do in public."
 "This is true," Sam said, stroking his hairless chin.
-----------------------------------------
 "I heard some kid tell the first years you've got the Dark Mark."
 Al stared at her. "What?"
 "Is it true?"
 "Why do you always ask me that? Is this rumor true? Is that rumor true? Gods Ginny, you sound like a broken record."
 "Well, is it?"
 He sighed, pulling up the sleeves of his robes and showing her his collection of tattoos. "Do you see any of them moving?"
 "Oh my god... there's so many of them..."
 "Not all tattoos are the sign of the Dark Lord," he muttered, letting his sleeves fall back down.
------------------------------------------
 "You're really powerful for firsties," he said. "Probably better than Potter."
 "I wouldn't say that," Sam said. Though, he didn't believe his own words. "We just practice a lot. Picking up bits and pieces here or there."
-----------------------------
 "What are they up to..."
 "Spies maybe?"
 Ron nodded. "I heard Al's got the Mark."
 "He does not," Hermione said, then turned to Ginny. She seemed to be the only one who ever got information out of their housemate. "Does he?"
 She chewed her lip. "Well..." she said. "He's got lots of tattoos..."
 "See! He does!" Rony exclaimed.
 "He does not. He showed them to me himself. None of them are the Dark Mark. Most of them are in latin though. But I couldn't decipher it."
 "Can you remember any of them?" Hermione asked, intrigued. "I might be able to translate-"
 "I promised I wouldn't try. He says they're protection spells his mom put on him when he was a baby. Says that Hogwarts is dangerous, and she wants to make sure he makes it out alive."
 "I don't think he IS alive," Harry said. "He got up after being hit with an AK."
 "Maybe it was his charm things," Hermione said. "Protecting him. After all, your mum's love protected you. Why not him too?"
 "I don't think it works like that, Mione," Ron said.
 "Wow, Ronald Weasley actually had a thought," Hermione teased.
---------------------------------
 "Al, you can't just invite random people over. It's-"
 "Come on Sam! It's the summer! And it's only for a month! You know how horrible Harry's relatives are! And besides, I think Fred and George would have tons of fun here!"
 Sam sighed. When Al was in that mood, he knew it was best to just let him have his way.
 "Alright, but you're explaining why we sleep in the same room on the same bed."
 "Fine fine," he muttered.
-----------------------------------
 "Okay, a few ground rules," Al said. "One, there won't be any wand magic in this house. Or in this area. Despite how open minded we Americans are about that sort of thing, it'd be best not to draw too much attention to ourselves. Anything that doesn't requite wands is perfectly fine," he said, then looked straight at Ginny. "And no sneaking around upstairs with the invisibility cloak."
 "But-"
 "Trust me," Tyler said. "It's REALLY not a good idea."
-------------------------------------
 "Whoa... You all live in this big house by yourselves?" Ron said, looking at the back of the Manor.
 Sam nodded.
 "Yup," Al beamed. "And there's still room enough for more."
--------------------------------------
 "Ezekiel James Devlin! You get your head out of the oven NOW!" Al shouted, causing the young adult to stand upright, despite the fact that the voice yelling at him was in that awkward squeaky pitch of a teen.
 "Whoa..." Ron said, munching on a piece of toast.
 Al grabbed Zeke by the ear and dragged him out of the kitchen, much like Ron's own mother did to him at times.
---------------------------------------
 "Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" Hermione exclaimed, turning and rushing out into the hall as Sam fell onto the floor.
 Sam flailed in a mess of sheets. "Don't you people ever knock!"
 "Fuckin 'ell! I told you to charm the door!" Al shouted at him.

a few more things.

1. matching icons for the last one i posted.

 

2. a matching pin-up.

 

sort-of a dribble reply-ish post for mouse's post here: http://lepetitsouris.vox.com/library/post/runaway-tyler-continued.html

it's sad. it jumps between 2 simultaneous POVs.

enjoy.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

 The feel of his soft lips, tasting of his favorite flavored tea. The feel of

his hair sliding through his fingers as he ran his hand through it. He was careful,

almost awkward as he had moved in for the kiss. His mind was racing, telling him

to stop. Telling him it was wrong. That it would ruin everything.
 But he'd wanted it. Craved it like a hunger that could never be sated.

Had wanted it from the first moment he laid eyes on the blonde, grown now but

still so enticing... And the fact that now he saw him as all the more delicate, all the

more frail only drove him into a more powerful frenzy of brutal self defeat.
 But his body felt so right as it slid into place on top of the blond man.

The senstation of dominance he hadn't felt in years. The rush of doing the taboo,

the forbidden, sent his adrenaline and lust into overdrive.
 He told himself he can't. He shouldn't. But his body screamed he will.

He must. That there was no turning back now.
 His will, strengthened by years of self-dicipline crumbled the moment

his body betrayed his mind and heart.
 There was only the need, the unresolved craving for forbidden flesh

and whispers of taboo in his ear.
----------------
 He woke to the sound of his phone. Slowly he opened his eyes,

rubbing at them with one hand. For a few moments, he didn't know where he was.

An unfamiliar bed, but an all too familiar scent in the air. In his pillow. On his skin.
 A warm body beside him, arms wrapped around his middle with a head

resting on his back. Carefully, he eased out from beneath him and grabbed up his

phone before it could go into a second rendition of the Killers song "Sam's

Town".
 "Hello?" he mumbled sleepily, trying carefully to get out of the bed

without waking the other man. When he realized he only had one sock on, he

about had a stroke.
  "Where the FUCK are you?!"
 Al's voice caught in his throat, and Tyler nuzzled with a soft moan into

the warm spot Al had just vacated.
 "I... uh..." he said, trying to keep quiet as he fumbled about, trying to

find his pants. He knew he'd have to shower, to keep from taking that

unmistakable smell back to the hotel.
  "Alabaster."
 Al cringed as he heard his full name used, and the accusation in the

tone.
 "See, I popped 'round, ta check on him right," he said quietly,

snatching up his discarded shirt and jeans, then searched for his boxers. "An he

was in a awful state. Had ta stick 'round, cheer him up yeah."
 He bit his lip as his heart raced frantically in the silence that followed.
 Could he hear the defensiveness underlying his tone? Did he notice Al

was trying to talk quietly? Could he hear the rustling of fabric as Tyler stirred and

rolled over on the bed with a groan?
 Then, the silence was broken... by Sam.
  "Liar."
 Said deadpan. But Al knew beneath the cold monotone was a building

anger he didn't want to face. He may have been blind, but he was good at picking

out the right moment to throw a punch and land it.
 "Sam, honest," he said, moving to the bathroom in an attempt to keep

from waking up the other. His clothes bunched up and held against his chest, he

glanced back out the bathroom door before nudging it with his foot to close.
 His voice echoed in the small space. He hadn't noticed the door wasn't

closed all the way. He hadn't put enough force behind the nudge to swing it all the

way into the frame. He hadn't noticed when the door didn't click into place like it

was supposed to.
 He put the lid of the toilet down, sitting on top and pulling on his shirt,

switching the phone from one ear to the other.

 Tyler was aware when Al had left his bed. His phone having started off

as background noise to his dreamscape. He hadn't been able to get a decent's

night sleep in so long, that he was reluctant to let the fading dreams pass when he

not longer felt the warmth of another body beside him.
 But he heard, muddled at first, Al's words as he tried to keep his voice

hushed while stumbling around his room.
 He rolled onto his back with a groan, his attempts and failing to wake

up futile.
 Vaguely, he was aware Al was moving further away, his voice getting

softer until at last it was distant and muffled.
 Squeezing his eyes shut, trying to stave off wakefulness just a little

longer, he pulled his blanket tighter around him. Somehow, he drifted back again,

into that state between awake and sleep.
 He stayed this way until he heard Al's voice raise sharply, but still a

little muffled, and all hope of returning to the sleep of the dead he had blissfully

enjoyed was lost.
 Groggily, he sat up, becomming aware of his surroundings gradually

until he heard Al again, angry, irate, but still slightly unintelligable. For as long as

he'd been in Ireland, gaining an understanding of the local language, and

drowinging in the various confusing and overlapping dialects, it was Al's speech

that he both understood best and could not fully comprehend.
 He climbed out of bed, cautiously pulling a sheet with him to wrap

around his lean, sick body as he made his way to the bathroom door.

 "Don't ye fuckin lecture me!" Al had shouted, knowing that just beyond

that wall lay a sleeping dying man. But he was too blinded by anger to realize just

exactly how loud he'd become over the last few minutes.
 "What?! Yer the one that can't keep yer pants on!" Al was irate, but

most of it was denial. Trying to hide his shame with a shield of anger.
 A few moments of silence on the other end of the line as Al tugged on

his pants. He was both anxious and grateful for it. But the anxiety was dragging

out far longer than he had liked, and the other man knew it. Knew just which

buttons to push, when and how to keep quiet in that way which said that Al was

only allowed to _think_ he was in control, and accenting the reality of it.
 But he looked his face in the mirror as suddenly, the silence was

broken again, and he watched his own expression melt from anger and rage into

that of submission and vulnerability.
 "Look, It was just tea." Al said at last, defeated in the end as he knew

he would be. A side of him he never showed, a side of him no one had ever been

allowed to see or hear in all of these long years. "And some movies."
 He sunk down to sit on the toilet again, his head down, arm propped

up on the side of the sink as he rested his forhead against his palm. "Spilled Dr.

Pepper all over me trousers. Ty offered ta wash 'em fer me so they don't stain up

too bad. Fell asleep on the couch 'fore the end of the last movie. "
 He sighed. "Sammy, boyo, stop it." A pause. "Why'd I lie? Ye know I

ain' playin ye." He dropped his hand away from his face and leaned forward, the

phone pressed tightly against his ear as he choked back the bile that was rising in

his throat. Trying his best not to break down, even in the solace of the bathroom.
 "Yeah..." he said, willing his voice not to crack. "Ye take yer medicine

this mornin?... I'll call in a refill when we get home yeah."
 After a few tense moments, Al smiled softly in relief. "You too."
 As he snapped the phone closed and looked up, he saw a pair of blue

eyes peering at him through the crack in the door. He held the gaze for just a few

seconds more before looking away, his shame quickly hidden behind a stony

mask of denial.

 Tyler had cracked the door just a little, just enough to be able to hear

the shouting man more clearly on the other side. Through the sliver between door

and frame, he could see him pacing back and forth as he had shouted.
  "Don't ye fuckin lecture me!"
 He listened to his friend on the other side of that door as he worked

through the day and night before in his mind. Using the snippets he heard on this

side of the door, and trying to piece together what he could about what was going

on at the other end of the phone.
 He knew it had to have been Sam. And he knew Sam. He knew he had

to be angry. Quiet worry laced with jealousy at first, when Al hadn't gone back to

the hotel. Probably figured he was out getting drunk with someone else while he

could. Had probably expected to hear him come stumbling in at 3 in the morning,

waking him up and stinking of beer or worse... And the stabbing thought of what

probably would have happened next...
 But none of that had happened. Because Al had stayed with him after

appearing on his doorstep like a stray dog that would just come and go as he

pleased.
 It hadn't happened as Sam, he knew, expected it probably would.
 Because Al never made it back to the hotel. Al had stayed after the tea

was long gone. Talking. Just talking about things. Work, and the kids. Naturally

avoiding certain subjects save for the generic "How's Sam?" and "Oh? Really? He

clubbed you with a 9 iron last weekend?" and the invitation to have lunch... then

dinner...
 Somehow, during a quiet dinner in, taboo subjects had been brought

up. Tyler had a few questions. Was testing the waters to see how much tight

lipped Al would divuldge. To see how far he could push that conversational

boundary without it seeming too much. He knew Al. He knew Al would let him get

away with a lot... but just how much?...
 And then, he had asked a question that clearly defined the point of no

return... And his friend's strong will and sense of loyalty began to crumble.
 He could still feel his hands as they ran the length of his body time and

again trying to get reaquainted. He could still taste his skin, and the hint of garlic

mixed with strawberry tea on his lips.
 He shook the thoughts of the day and night before from his mind,

pulling the sheet more around him as he ventured to crack the door a little more.
 Al had settled down some. He'd stopped pacing, and was standing in

front of the mirror. From this angle, Tyler couldn't see his reflection clearly. Just a

bit of elbow here, his side there. But he could see well enough his rumpled shirt

riding up in the back exposing his skin just before it was hidden again by his jeans. Then, Al had moved out of his direct sight.
   "Spilled Dr. Pepper all over me trousers. Ty offered ta

wash 'em fer me so they don't stain up too bad. Fell asleep on the couch 'fore the

end of the last movie. "
 Al was lying. Tyler knew his friend well enough that he wouldn't

boldface lie unless he had good reason... which was a practice he rarely used. He

favored the lie by omission aproach. Give just enough details to get someone

jumping to conclusions, but leaving out critical facts...
 Like telling him they're room mates, but leaving out the fact that literally,

they shared a single room together. Telling him that they hated each other, but not

telling him that it was just their way of saying what both men were too proud to

admit... Telling him that they just sort of happened, but leaving out the why and

the how and the reasons behind them...
 In a way, it made him feel positively alive. The thought of getting

caught completely only thrilling him more with each heartbeat. To see the man

who'd put him into that same position years ago now have to deal with his own

problem karma had sent his way. Making an honest man lie through his teeth

about where he'd been last night. About what he'd been doing and with who...
 And then, he peered back into the bathroom, and that smug sense of

self satisfaction, of power began to slide as he watched his friend through the

slowly widening crack in the door. Miserable, on the verge of tears. So soon after

they'd shared one hell of a night, Al had fallen deep in the throes of remorse and

self hatred. A state the blonde hadn't seen him in since they'd come back from

Mexico... without Randy.
 But no... as he watched Al, his oldest friend, he could see him spiralling

further than that, deeper than that period of depression, drugs, and oversexing had

taken him. He was beyond the point of agony and was now in that dark, numb

place where most in his position would probably take a razor to their wrists...
  "Yeah..."
 He could hear the strain in Al's voice as he spoke. And could tell from

the look on his face that he was just barely able to hold himself together.
  "Ye take yer medicine this mornin?... I'll call in a refill when

we get home yeah."
 Tyler's breath caught in his throat as he saw the familiar rush of relief

creep into the Irishman's face, and a small smile replace the look of sheer

desolation and despair.
  "You too."
 He pulled the sheet tighter still, and was about to turn away when Al

looked up, and their eyes met briefly. Staring at one another intently. He wondered

what was going through the other man's mind as he saw the brief flicker of

helplessness and agony before Al looked away quickly, hiding it all once again

behind his stony, serious business face.

 And to think...

 It had all started as a joke that wasn't a joke at all, but a challenge at

dinner...

 "You won't deny a dying man's last wish will you?"

 He'd said it with a small smile, a gentle touch of his hand on his friend's

arm.

the first dribble was inspired by mouse's most recent dribble post. the other two are sort of an aftermath sort of thing via telephone.

enjoy. n.n

--------------------------
 "I'm gonna beat the FUCK outta the prick!"
 "Al, no," Tyler protested, grabbing his friend by the arm, trying to get him to sit back down before he did anything stupid. "You can't just bust in and-"
 "Like hell I can't!" he snapped angrily, pulling his arm away. "Nobody treats one-o my mates like that an gets away with it! I don't care who they think they are!"
 "Al, listen to yourself. I appreciate that you're mad, really I do. But you're going overboard."
 "You want me to send someone 'round? Give him a good proper 'talk' and straighten him out?"
 "NO. I'm old enough to take care of myself. I've been doing that for the last ten years," he snapped. It sounded much harsher out loud than it had in his head, but it didn't mean Tyler wasn't right.
-----------------------
 "I know that you knew where I was. Your spies have a certain look about them," he said flatly. "My suspicions were confirmed when I looked into the personel files."
 "I figured you would."
 Someone shouting in the background. He shouted back, slightly muffled. Tyler figured he had the phone against his shoulder, or covered it sort of with his hand.
 But when the shouting passed, his friend didn't speak again. So he filled the silence himself.
 "I worked with one of them, when I was in the think tank. You knew what we were doing, what the military asked us for, didn't you? She had to have reported back, right?"
 Silence on the other end of the line. Nothing but the sound of breathing, and Sam shouting in the background about food.
 "Al."
 He didn't respond.
 "Were you even paying attention!"
 "Yeah. I was."
 "Then answer me. You knew, didn't you?"
 "I knew."
 Bile rose in his throat. He'd woken up with a headache, and an upset stomach. This wasn't helping him any. If anything, it was making him feel worse. But he was running out of time. He needed answers, honest ones, sraight from the horse's mouth.
 "You weren't going to tell me, were you?"
 "No. I didn't think-"
 "You never think!" Tyler shouted angrily, his fingers curling tighter around his phone. "That's your problem! You always say or do whatever comes to mind, but you don't fucking think about it!"
 "Ty, calm down."
 "No, I won't calm down! Why did you even have anyone there? To keep spying on me?!"
 Al's reply was calm, nonchalant even, despite his friend's obvious agitation. "Financial interests. I sank a lot of money into that venture. I wanted to make sure it was a good investment." Maybe he thought that if he remained calm, it might help calm Tyler down. It wasn't working. It only made him more upset and angry.
---------------------------
 "Why Al? Why, after so much time, didn't you come and get me? Like you always do."
 He heard a sigh. Gentle muttering. Al was thinking. Tying to choose his words carefully, and to put them into order before he spoke again.
 "You needed your space."
 "That never stopped you before," Tyler spat angrily.
 "It did that time," he replied.
 "Why?"
 "What good would it have done if I had? Yeah, I had people trailing you for a while. Yeah, I knew where you were, generally what you were up to. If you'd been in any real trouble, I would have sent someone along t-"
 "But why not you, Al? Why not come yourself?"
 "Again, what good would have come of it?" he said. Tyler imagined him shaking his head, switching his phone to his other ear. He heard the tappings of fingers on keys. It didn't sound like he'd been put on speaker. Was he wearing a headset?
 Part of him wanted to tell him how much he'd wanted to look over his shoulder back then. Look over and see Al and not one of his many henchmen.
 "Besides," he added. "I knew you'd come back to me eventually, when you needed me. When you were ready to come back." He laughed a little. Tyler thought it sounded forced. He imagined, as he sat by his window, trailing his fingers along the sill, that Al's expression must have been a sad one. He heard a pause in the continuous typing. "It's just that the timing was off, that's all," he said finally.
 "Yeah..." he muttered back, hearing the Windows music soundbite that told him Al had just started shutting down his computer.
 "Hey," he said. "Me, Sam, and the boys are all going up to the history museum tomorrow. You should come with us."
 "I don't know... It's still a little awkward," he said.
 "Well, it's up to you," he said.
 Every time Tyler tried to bring the subject back to the why and the why nots, Al easily maneuvered it back away, to other things. It was a back and forth, Tyler trying to get more information, and Al giving as little as possible as he moved to another subject entirely.
 Eventually, he yawned. He hadn't wanted to, but it just came out unexpectedly.
 "It's late," Al said, and Tyler knew what he was going to say next.