V

The blog of the author that brought you Horizon. Actually this a place that I can store my notes and ideas and get feedback from people who have read the series. The askbox is open for critics, praise, questions, head!canons, you name it. (Note this is an expeimental blog for my current novel)

[meilinchan]

A scribble of Donnie and Lex.

Lex is twelve and Donnie is thirteen, almost fourteen, hence the size difference. Plus in my head canon Lex is so malnourished he’s small as shit until his growth spurt.

Also, Donnie is pale as fuck like me and got sunburnt. He blames it on Lexie bubbie.

Characters belong to Neenie. I take no credit other than the scribbles.

[njwarden]

Casually reblogging to my own blog. Because adorable.

OH my god grumpy donnie.

[meilinchan]

Some character sketches for Nadine’s upcoming novel “Horizon” .

These were just some preliminary sketches while I was talking to Neenie online. There was a lot of back and forth. This is at the begging of her novel when they are quite young. Donnie looks far too old in this sketch. I have no idea how to make him younger except to think his face and re-draw his features. Which I’m not doing. For the eighth time. I’m putting my foot down on that one…

FAN ART!

[njwarden]

Huzzah, first official..well it's not even fanart, it's illustrations. 

Anyway it looks amazing and I am beyond words. 

[njwarden]

Chapt. 1 (cont)

When Lex asks when Dad will be back, she doesn't give him an answer. She just holds him as he cries into her shoulder, murmuring soft soothing words and rubbing the boys back as his small frame is wracked with sobs. 

As much as she tries, she knows it doesn't help. 

His father doesn't return for over a month. He turns up on the doorstep one morning, a sad smile on his face as he crushes Lex into a hug and lifts him off the floor. His eyes are shiningw ith unshed tears when he puts his boy down and smooths back his hair, telling him he's so sorry and that he's going to fix things. He's going to fix everything.

For the next week or two, things seem to improve. Lex doesn't see Darryl. The bathroom cabinet is suddenly filled with pills and Dad seems to talk on the phone a lot to Carlie, his therapist. Sometimes he'd lock himself in the bathroom and just let the radio play. He'd stay in there for hours. 

[enter scene with the return of Darryl when he grabs and bruises Lex's arm. also lex going to school and getting bullied. too lazy to write this shit now because I want to write Chernobyl scenes damn it!] 

The kid in front of him looked angry. He felt the impact of the kids hands as he pushed him into the wall, the bricks could and rough against his back; the back of his skull ached as his head snapped back and hit the wall. His eyes swam and his heartbeat was thudding in his ears, the sound drowning out whatever the kid in front of him was saying. He felt his head snap to the side as a fist drove itself into his cheekbone, pain blossoming with the promise of more to come. 

He was staggering, hands sliding against the rough stone behind him. The skin was burning and Lex knew he’d torn skin, they already felt tacky with blood. 

The next thing he knew he was on the ground, aching bone deep and world spinning. His vision began to blur as he saw someone make his way towards him, blocking out the light as they leaned over him. 

‘Hey, kid!’

‘Kid?’ Chernobyl frowned as the kid seemed to still. A quick press of fingers to his neck confirmed there was still a pulse, thank God; he didn’t feel like being implicated in a murder. He bit his lip as he studied the kid. He looked to be about his age, 12 or so. Something about him was familiar though, and it itched at the back of his mind begging for an answer. There was a pale, thin scar running through the kid’s eye, obviously old and now healed. Things clicked into place. 

He knew the kid alright. Chernobyl had robbed him a few months back, knife against his throat and gruff voiced. He felt a hot wave of guilt he didn’t know he was still capable of feeling wash through him. This kid had to have the worst luck. 

White teeth tore at an already ragged fingernail as he paced back and forth. He was faced with a dilemma. Normally he wouldn’t give two shits about some kid stupid enough to get knocked out on the street. But, this boy, he’d already had a bad run of luck. Mugged and from the looks of it things hadn’t been too great before Chernobyl had come along to liberate his wallet. Now he was out cold in the middle of the street, and it didn’t look like anyone else would be coming for him. Chernobyl crossed his arms and tapped a foot impatiently against the tarmac before huffing a breath and letting his arms fall to the sides. 

‘Ah, fuck it.’ 

He dug into the blonde’s pockets, desperately searching for his chipcard. A chipcard was something employed by the government so many years ago nobody could remember not having one. It recorded your name, age, place of birth, address and your job. Everyone had one, at least if you were a legal citizen that lived in a home. Chernobyl was neither of these things, so he didn’t. He preferred it that way, much more freedom in sleeping in a gutter. 

His fingers scratched along lacquered plastic and he pulled the card out, squinting to see in the quickly fading light. This time of year it always got dark quickly. The address was printed there in neat letters. 

‘24 Bray Drive, Waken’ he tapped the card thoughtfully against his chin, trying to remember whereabouts it was. One good thing about living on the streets is that you became familiar with all of them. 

Having a good idea of where to go, Chernobyl hefted the boy up. The kid was basically useless; he was going to have to carry the useless shit. Fantastic. 

‘You better be fucking grateful.’ He muttered as he began his trek. Maybe there’d be a meal out of it for him. 

The house didn’t look like much. The liquor bottles littered around the rubbish bins told Chernobyl he’d been right in his original assumption: This kid had really bad luck. 

He lowered the boy to the ground as gently as he could, kneeling before him and trying to wake him up. 

‘Kid?’ he looked at the name on the card. ‘Alexander?’ 

He frowned and looked back at the blonde. He didn’t look like an Alexander.

‘Alex?’ he tried, shaking him roughly. To no avail, the boy seemed out for the count. Growling in frustration, Chernobyl rolled his eyes before backhanding him. The small grunt of pain and flutter of eyelashes was encouraging. He drew his hand back to slap him again when ‘Alex’ seemed to snap out of it on his own, opening doe-like eyes and staring at him. Chernobyl ignored the flinch as he lowered his hand. They stared at each other for a beat before Chernobyl broke the silence. 

‘Alex, right?’

‘Just Lex. Who are you?’ the kid drew up his legs to his chest. Obviously a defensive move.

‘Doesn’t matter. Is this your house?’ he nodded to the practically derelict home behind them. Lex looked over his shoulder before moving his gaze back to Chernobyl, nodding with that wide eyed look. 

‘Are you going to rob the house?’ 

‘No, that would be rude. Besides, I think once robbed is enough don’t you?’

Lex’s eyebrows creased into a frown before realisation dawned on him. 

'You were the kid in the alley. But that was months ago, how do you even remember me?'

'You've got a scar through your eye, moron. It tends to stand out.'

Lex fell silent at that. An awkward pause stretched between them before Chernobyl cleared his throat. 

‘So is anyone home?’

‘You sure you aren’t going to rob the house?’

‘I don’t do houses. Just kids stupid enough to wander down dangerous alleyways.’

It was meant as a joke, but then again a lot of people didn’t seem to get Chernobyl’s humour. Lex however, looked positively hurt, turning his eyes downward and mumbling an apology. Who apologises to their mugger? This kid had more problems than Chernobyl was willing to deal with. 

He pushed himself to his feet and made his way up to the front door, rapping on the wood with his knuckles. Lex’s footsteps behind him were hurried. 

‘Don’t, it might not be…’ he trailed off, again looking at his shoes. 

‘Might not be?’ he looked to the blonde, raising an eyebrow.

‘Locked. The backdoor is usually open.’ Lex stumbled off around the side of the house. Some very small, nearly forgotten part of Chernobyl felt worried for him, his head had taken a pretty bad knock and the kid probably had a concussion. The grass was long and overgrown and brushed against the legs of Donnie’s jeans as they came to the back door. Lex was right; it was unlocked and easily swung open. Once Lex was inside, Chernobyl pushed him down into a chair. This worrisome feeling was starting to piss him off, best to avoid it altogether. 

‘Anyone home?’ he called out. Lex seemed nervous, biting at his lip and squirming in his chair as if he was expecting some kind of beast to lumber out from the living room. 

However, the house seemed oddly empty and quiet apart from the sound of the shower upstairs. 

‘I’m guessing that would be your….?

‘Dad.’ Lex finished for him. Chernobyl nodded as he flicked on the light. The bulb hummed and flickered to life, illuminating the room in a bright glow. 

Now he could see clearly, Chernobyl noticed just how bad the kid had got it. The skin on his hands was ripped to shit, and there was already an angry bruise beginning to shadow the side of Lex's face. That seemed to be the worst of it, although a gaded bruise on Lex's bicep caught his attention. He moved to have a look at it but they boy was quickly defensive, pulling away abruptly and cowering with wide frightened eyes. 

Chernobyl sat back, Lex's reaction told him more than looking at the bruise would have. 

'Your Dad grab you?' he asked quietly. The kid merely drew his knees up to his check and mumbled something into the fabric of his jeans. 

The Russian was tempted to push further for a moment before he caught himself. He didn't know this kid, nor should he care about his situation. The fuck did he care about some kid for?

He glanced at Lex and decided that the appearance of a kicked puppy may have something to do with it. It was pathetic. 

He sighed and slumped in a chair across the table from Lex. 

'You got a first aid kit? I can fix up your hands and be on my way.'

'Why do you want to help?'

'Consider it both an apology and my good deed for the day.' he smiled lopsidedly. 'the saviour of a tortured soul'

The kid merely blinked before getting to his feet and mumuring something about getting the first aid kit from the bathroom. 

[njwarden]

Chapt 1

In a neighbourhood like Waken, people didn't talk. There were no gossiping housewives; people kept to themselves while eyeing everyone shiftily. 

Maybe that was why no-one noticed the decline of the Rune household.

The neighbours had ignored the ambulance that came to take the mother away, lifeless with glassy eyes. 

They appeared oblivious to the growing collection of liquor bottles that littered the front yard over the years. 

They took no notice of how the small boy, once so friendly, slowly withdrew into himself as bruises and cuts decorated his skin.

The indifference of a human being can be the most destructive thing to another person. 

Apathy is a disease that has long plagued humanity since the 20th century and as time has gone on it has only gotten worse.

Now in the year of 2112, the world was not clean and electronically controlled, like the movies of old had proclaimed. Instead, the streets were littered with antique junk from earlier decades and the world had plunged into a technological dark age.

Of course, none of this mattered to the small boy in the Rune house as he curled up in his bed and listened to the drunken commotion downstairs. Lex was 12 years old, and his greatest want in the world was to read. His mother had told him when he was younger and he was nestled in her lap, pudgy fingers grasping at the worn pages

'Reading is the world’s greatest escape. There are worlds in between the pages that you can’t even imagine, Lexie.'

He wanted to escape so badly on nights like these. When his fathers voice became rough and slurred from the whiskey and he seemed to turn into someone else. A monster of a man with heavy footsteps and a quick temper. Lex’s fingers curled into the worn cotton of the blanket and pulled it tighter around him as there was a loud crash of breaking glass downstairs.

He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed deeply, hoping if he pretended to sleep for long enough that eventually it would claim him. 

~

When Lex made his way downstairs the next morning, his father was lying slouched against the wall; an empty bottle that stank of whiskey was clasped loosely in the man’s hand. Lex crouched in front of him and gently shook his shoulder. 

Darryl’s vacant eyes surveyed the wreckage of glass shards and liqor stains around him.  A chair had been smashed against the wall, his hand throbbed and his knuckles were scraped raw. Blinking away the haze, he could see his son’s socked feet in front of him. Darryl raised his gaze to meet Lex’s; his heart clenched tightly as he saw nothing but open forgiveness in his boy's eyes. He tried to speak but his voice caught in his throat and instead he gave a choked sob, eyes becoming blurry with tears. He could feel a small hand stroke his hair softly and he was about to sob again when his stomach gave a sickening heave and vomit surged up his throat, burning his nose and making him retch as he emptied his stomach into his lap. 

He coughed, spitting at the sour taste that had flooded his mouth. He couldn't see through the tears but he could feel Lex pat his shoulder and tell him

‘It’s okay Dad. ‘

Darryl could feel something inside him break at those words; he curled in on himself while Lex went to get a mop from the kitchen to clean up after him. He felt himself dry heave. The only thing that made him sicker than whiskey was himself. 

‘Fuck, puppy, I’m so sorry.’ he finally choked, his throat raw. He had a feeling Lex didn’t hear him. It wouldn’t matter if he did, Darryl had apologized and promised before. It didn’t change anything.

It was the smell that Lex hated the most. Thick, acrid and sour, it soaked into his skin as he scrubbed at the tacky vomit stains on the balding carpet. His hands were red and cracked from the bleach, the scent burning his nose. His knees ached bone-deep from where they were pressed against the floor.

He could hear the radio blaring over the running water of the shower. His father was probably curled up in the corner, sobbing into his knees. It made Lex’s stomach twist and he wondered if he’d end up spilling his breakfast all over the floor as well. 

It wasn’t like this all days. Sometimes Dad would have breakfast ready for him when he came down. He’d ruffle his hair and ask how school was, walk with him and kiss him goodbye. Lex liked those days.

He glanced at the clock, he was going to be late for school. Lex nibbled at his lip, considering if the carpet was clean enough that it wouldn’t stink by the time he got home. His father would stay in the shower for most of the day. He tended to do that sometimes. 

Lex hurried around the room, washing his hands as best as he can before he grabbed his bag. The sound of knuckles on the bathroom door seemed impossibly quiet over the radio but somehow his father still heard him, turning off the music. 

'Lex?'

‘I’m going to school now.’

‘Okay. Be good, baby.’ 

Lex tried to ignore the way his father’s voice sounds hoarse and feeble, wavering on the words. Instead he steeled his nerves and headed for the door, leaving the chaos of the morning behind him. 

~

School was no better, even on good days. Lex wasn't smart, he couldn't understand big words like Tracey Brodie, or do multiplication without using his fingers like Mark Sylak. 

Lex couldn't even read; he sat at the back of the class and desperately tried to make sense of it all before his teacher would come over to help him. He hated the way his cheeks would burn with embarassment and his skin felt too tight for his body. 

The other kids laughed at him because he had to say the words aloud softly to himself and his eyes burned with tears but he never let them see him cry. Sometimes they would make fun of him for being stupid, other times it was the bruises he had. 

On bad days, they would talk about his father. He hated that the most. Lex hit one of them, once. Then his dad was called and it didn’t make anything better. Lex didn't hit back again.

That was Lex’s life for the most part. Some days when he came home his dad’s friend Anya would be there. Sometimes she’d stay the night, other times she’d let Lex sleep at her house. She was Dad’s sponsor from the Meetings. He didn’t know what the Meetings were exactly, but Dad said that they were going to help him go back to the way he was in the good days. It all sounded nice, and Dad was always in a better mood after coming home, so Lex didn’t give it much more thought. 

Anya sometimes asked about the bruises and where they came from. He could never meet her gaze, instead staring at his feet and fiddling with the hem of his shirt; the fabric worn and soft to the touch.

‘Does your Dad hit you?’ she asked one day. 

‘It’s not Dad at the time.’ 

This is the only answer he could give. It’s true, it isn’t his father. The man who hit him stomped around the house, and yelled. He said he didn't remember moving to that house,didn't remember Lex’s mother. He claimed he was years younger than Lex's father, and that his name was Darryl not Dad now shut up you little snot. He scared Lex, jumping from place to place and moving around jerkily, like a machine that needed oiling. When he smiled it split his face and his eyes burned wild. 

That man was not his father. 

Lex’s father would never have hurt him. 

~~

EDIT

~~

Darryl wasn't the only one that hurt him though. Lex seemed to have a gift for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he paid for it on more than one occassion. 

This particular occassion was in May and he was walking home from school. He'd decided to take a different route, a back alley, to try and avoid the kids from class. It didn't always work but today his classmates had left him alone. 

It was after a few minutes walking he began to understand why. 

The alley was long and winding, and lead to the downtown area. The suburbia home that Lex lived in was far from luxury with it's bottle littered garden and rubbish lining the gutters. But it was better than this:

Children hunched over trash cans where fires burnt to keep warm. Some of the older teenagers walked the corners and climbed into strangers cars, coming back with bruises on their arms and cash clutched in their hands. 

Downtown was where everyone was hungry and cold and desperate. It stank of despair. Kids would fight each other to the death over a slice of bread here. 

His eyes caught on a figure standing seperate to the rest. A boy around his age who seemed to be doing as Lex was, surveying the chaos that was the downtown ruins. 

His gaze locked on to Lex, burning blue eyes and Lex could feel his skin crawl. He felt like he was being hunted. He could feel a shiver travel down his spine as his hurried footsteps travelled back along the alleyway. He froze as a long fingered hand yanked back on his hair and the ice edge of a blade pressed against his throat. 

'Wallet.'

The threat didn't need to be said, Lex fumbled in his pockets with shaking hands and handed him the wallet. The kid was probably around his age, and his voice was thick with a Russian accent, but Lex knew better than to think they were the same. The boy behind him was an adult trapped in a child's body, eyes aged beyond his years and body language screaming hostility and condescension. He stared wide eyed at him and wondered what kind of life you'd have to live to earn so many scars at 11 years old. He smelled of smoke and sweat and cigarettes, and in a moment his gaze became blue fury at Lex's staring. 

Lex crumpled in a heap as a fist connected with the side of his face. His face throbbed and his eye ached as he lay there and the boy just grabbed the fallen wallet and walked away, not even looking back. 

Lex felt too numb to cry. 

~

It was worse when he got home. His father's worry stricken face hurt the most, large heavy hands gently checking his face to see how bad it was and pressing a cool ice pack to the worst of it. His eye had become swollen and bruised on the long walk home. Lex had cried about giving away the money, he knew that they needed it, but Dad had just gathered him up in his arms and hushed away his tears, telling him was just glad he was safe now; Lex cried even harder at that, curling his fingers tight into the fabric of his dad's shirt and sobbing until every breath brought him pain. 

Later on, when Lex was in bed, he could hear Dad talking to Anya downstairs. 

'He was mugged.'

'Is that what he said?'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Darryl, did you never wonder where those bruises came from?'

'The kids at school give him a bit of a rough time-'

Lex pulled his pillow over his head, unable to listen to anymore. He loved his dad and he knew his dad loved him. But he hated Darryl, he wanted him to go away. He wanted Anya to tell his dad about all the things that happened because he never had the words; he just wished he didn't have to break his fathers heart in order to make Darryl go away. 

His pillow is stained with tears by the time he falls asleep, exhausted and aching. 

When he wakes up the next morning, his father is gone. 

[njwarden]

Horizon VII

Living with Lupe was strange. Actually, just living in a house was strange. Lex hadn’t realised how much he’d adjusted to sleeping in a tin shack until he had an actual roof over his head. He and Donnie still shared a room though; Lex didn’t feel right without him nearby.

Lupe was a quiet kind of man, who spent most of him time reading. Sometimes when he disappeared into his room Lex could hear the soft strumming of a guitar. He gave Lex and Donnie their space, let them do things at their own pace but was happy to offer advice if they asked for it. He was nice, for an adult.

Donnie was still suspicious of him though, he was always suspicious; it was the main reason they’d survived for so long. Still, Lex didn’t think Lupe was going to hurt them or do anything horrible to them.  If anything it felt like he really wanted to help them. Of course, Donnie wouldn’t believe that.

Lex shook his head and he awkwardly slipped out of the shower and grabbed at a towel. Running water was something they’d had to get used to. It was nice to not smell like stagnant rain water and city smoke any more.

There were a lot of things to adjust to. It all seemed stupid considering Lex had lived in a house for most of his life, but now it all seemed so alien. Even eating 3 meals a day was strange. Lex could feel flesh over his ribs instead of the thin membrane of skin that had used to be there. Donnie was quiet most of the time, most likely trying to figure out how best to adapt to the situation. He was still so skinny, Lex suspected he was still using. It broke his head to think that Donnie felt like he had to rely on that, to feel safe. Lex could keep him safe. At least Donnie didn’t have to sell his body any more. Lex slept a lot easier at night because of that.

He was relaxed too, when Lupe was out of the house. He smiled and joked. He even laughed, not hollow and mocking like before, but an actual honest laugh. Lex felt a warm feeling slip into his stomach when that happened.

He scrubbed at his hair with his towel and he dug around for his jeans, clothes scattered around the floor. It was hard to tell Donnie’s from his, most of the time they ended up sharing anyway.

The door opened and he gave a loud squeak as he scrabbled for the towel. Donnie’s head popped around the corner of the door. That was something else they’d had to get used to. Privacy.

‘Hey, do you want to head down to the scrap yard? I think I can probably get that old record player working if I find the right parts.’

Lex felt his cheeks heat up and he tried to rearrange the towel so it was actually wrapped around his waist.

‘Umm, Donnie. Can you give me a minute?’ he asked, embarrassed.

Donnie’s telltale grin soon graced his features.

‘For you, Freckles, I’d give 5.’

The door closed with a click and Lex scurried around to get dressed quickly, just in case Donnie decided to pop in again. His heart beat too hard around Donnie these days. He didn’t know what it meant, whether it was how friends were supposed to act or it was just him being strange. Lex wanted to ignore it though, Donnie was his only friend and he didn’t want to ruin things by being weird.

He called out to Donnie that he was ready and they both headed towards the junk yard. It wasn’t until they were halfway there Lex realised he was wearing Donnie’s shirt.

[njwarden]

Okay full edits are done. 

I think I have 3 people reading these, Jade, Croft and Locke.  I mainly want opinions on grammar and how the emotions come through and yeah I'm basically using you three to improve my own writing. :) Suck it.  

[njwarden]

Horizon VI

Some days Lex would wake up and Donnie would already be gone. He never knew where he went and Lex knew better than to ask.

There wasn’t much to do under the bridge.  Some days he would draw on the walls with bits of chalky rock he found, but the skin on his hands was dry and cracked, his bones ached.

So instead he wandered around town.  The streets were littered with all sorts of things, glass beads, paper, once Lex had even found $10. He’d wanted to buy Donnie something nice with it, but he knew he’d just yell at him and tell him that he should have spent it on something they could use. He gave it to Donnie instead.

On this particular day Lex found the library, and old brick building with graffiti all over the steps. He remembered his dad bringing him here once; there had been a reading group. They’d sat around reading Ladybug books. Lex had fallen asleep on Dad’s knee.  It was one of the nice memories.

Curiosity finally getting the better of him, he went inside, overly conscious of how his clothes were dirty and that his skin stank of street smoke. He could see the woman at the desk look over at him with disapproval. Donnie always said fuck anyone that thinks their better than you. Lex tried to, but it just made his stomach squirm. He felt terrible for thinking such mean things about the woman who was probably just doing her job. He felt like he should apologise for it.

Instead, Lex moved through the aisles of shelves, feeling calmer now that a dozen eyes weren’t staring at him. Lex loved the smell of books, it always helped calm him. His dirty fingers skimmed over their spines. He desperately wished he could make sense of the marks inside their pages. He was going to ask Donnie to teach him, but he already did enough for Lex. More than enough.  

He wandered to the children’s section, desperately fighting away the blush that threatened to stain his cheeks. He thumbed through a book that he was sure was only for toddlers. He could make out some of the words.

‘Can I help you?’ the voice next to his ear had startled him so much he dropped the book, the loud clatter causing everyone to look at him. He wanted to huddle up into a ball and die.

‘I’m fine.’ Lex said as felt his face heat up. Where was the exit?

‘Here, you dropped this. For your little...brother or sister?’ the voice belonged to a tall man with shaggy hair. Something about him reminded Lex of his old dog, friendly but watchful.

‘I don’t have a little brother or sister.’ his voice was small, he just wanted to leave.

‘Then who’s it...? Oh.’

Lex was thankful that the man hadn’t needed to spell it out. He felt stupid enough most days, nearly 13 years old and he couldn’t read a book meant for a toddler. But having someone else say it hurt even more.

‘Did you not learn at school?’ the man sat down on one of the armchairs they had nearby. Lex had always wished he could read just so he could curl up in one and get lost in the pages. It seemed like such a nice way to escape things.

‘I don’t go.’

‘What about your parents?’

Lex’s throat tightened painfully. He could feel tears begin to gather in his eyes. He shook his head before choking out a sentence.

‘No they can’t teach me.’

There was silence for a while, and when Lex looked up from his scuffed shoes the man was sitting with his hands clasped, his smile friendly but his eyes were sympathetic.

‘Would you let me teach you how to read?’

Lex’s fingers played with the hem of his shirt nervously. He knew he was shuffling his feet too. Eventually he nods. He’s wanted to read for as long as he can remember and now someone was offering. Someone that wasn’t Donnie.

The man had his hand outstretched.

‘My name’s Mr Bardot. You can call me Lupe, if you want.’

Lex tentatively shook Lupe’s hand. 

‘I’m Lex.’

When he returned to the shack later that day, he could hear Donnie was already there, murmuring in Russian to himself.

‘I’m home.’ It sounded stupid to call the iron shed home, but it felt like home to Lex. He knew Donnie would probably call him an idiot if he said that aloud.

Instead, he saw Donnie’s figure storm out of the shed, muscles taut and a scowl on his face.

‘The fuck were you?’ he barked. Lex bit at his lip.

‘I went to the library.’ The words came out timid. Donnie seemed to back off slightly, instead appearing worried instead of angry.  

‘Tell me next time if you’re planning to go off somewhere. Or at least leave a note. I thought someone had taken you.’

‘Sorry.’

‘It’s fine.’ Donnie busied himself getting things ready for dinner.  ‘So what book did you get?’

Lex could feel his cheeks burn again before he pulled the book out of his jacket pocket. Donnie looked at the cover and nods.

‘Good.’

And that was that. No mocking, no teasing, just...that. Lex wanted to hug him but he had a feeling that wouldn’t go down to well with Donnie. So he just sat there and smiled, thumbing the pages and reading softly under his breath. 

[njwarden]

Horizon V

The shed is dark and musty with flickers of gold filtering through the slats in the roof. Lex can see dust particles floating in the light.

Some days, when there was nothing else to do, the two of them would just sit in the shed. It had taken Donnie a while but sometimes he would let little shards of him slip through the cracks of his words. Little pieces of himself that Lex keeps like treasures.  

He can see Donnie lying in the bed opposite him, eyes closed and chest rising softly with each breath.

‘Donnie, are you asleep?’

An eye cracks open, bright blue studying him sceptically.

‘What do you think?’

Lex rolls on his side, arm tucked under his head.  He considers asking Donnie questions.  Sometimes Donnie answers, sometimes he’s just quiet and eventually they fall asleep.

There is one he had wanted to ask for a while though.

Why do you do it?’

‘Hm?’

‘Let people abuse you, your body.’ his voice is soft in the stuffy heat of the shed. Donnie sits up and moves to the door and for a moment Lex thinks he is going to leave. But instead Donnie just pushes it open, kicking a rock in place to hold it open before lying back down. The breeze is welcome, the silence is not. Lex fiddles with a stray thread from his pillow, wondering if Donnie was actually going to answer him this time.

‘It’s just flesh.’ Donnie answers lamely. Lex sits upright as a wave of irritation sweeps through him, making his skin tingle and itch.

‘You don’t believe that. You’re lying.’

The boy across from him sighs heavily, rolling his eyes exasperated.

‘What do you want me to say? I hate it and I want to stop? Well I can’t.’He snarls, eyes burning with blue fire. Some small part of Lex wants to back away and curl up in a ball. He knows Donnie would never hurt him, but his anger is something to be feared.  The brunette snorts and rolls onto his side, his back towards Lex.  ‘If I could feed us both without doing this, I would Lex. I hate it. I pump my veins with so much shit before it makes it all seem like a bad dream. But all the fucking bruises are still there. All the fucking marks and aches and bites.’ His voice breaks and his tucks his knees up to his chest, looking so small and weak that Lex’s heart aches.

Moving carefully he shifts onto Donnie’s bed, making sure his friend didn’t push him away before he wraps his arms around him, his chin resting on Donnie’s shoulder.

‘Are you mad?’

‘Yes, but not at you. ‘ Donnie squeezes his hand. Lex’s feels his heart pound and he smiles into the sharp angle of Donnie’s shoulder.

‘Can I help so that you don’t have to-‘

‘No. I don’t want you to have to do anything like this. Ever.’ Donnie snaps, but Lex knows it’s not because he’s angry at him. Because he’s worried for him. He hugs Donnie tighter.

‘I would do it.’

‘That’s why I would never ask, Lex.’ Donnie looks over his shoulder.

Up so close he can see the faded scar along Donnie’s cheek, the purpled outline of a black eye. There’s an angry bite above his collarbone, red and fiery against Donnie’s pale skin. Lex feels a sharp spike in his chest, burning hot and he knows its jealousy. He shouldn’t be jealous, but the idea of someone else touching his friend, someone who hadn’t had to wait and earn it like Lex had makes his blood boil. He could never hate Donnie for it though. Because Donnie never wanted it to happen. He knew that was why Donnie sometimes cried at night when he thought Lex was asleep, and why he got angry all the time and yelled at him. He knew Donnie never meant any of those things. The things Donnie meant were always the things he could never show.

‘Lex?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I’ll get us out of here one day, you know that right?’ Donnie has turned away again but his voice sounds tight, like it’s hard to speak. Lex can feel hot tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. He squeezes Donnie to his chest and presses a kiss to Donnie’s cheek. 

‘I know you will Donnie.’

His friend doesn’t say any more, but he doesn’t need to. The way he clutches at Lex’s hand says more than words could. 

[njwarden]

Horizon IV

Lex hated Pit nights. Living with Darryl for so long had already soured him towards violence considerably, but there was something about the fact that people jumped into the pit willingly that made Lex’s gut twist.

                The atmosphere was suffocating and smelled of stale sweat and the sweet copper scent of blood. The air tasted metallic and salty on his tongue, coupled with the acidic burn at the back of his throat. This place always made him sick.

                A loud cheer went up somewhere to his left and through the heaving sea of bodies Lex could see the familiar pale figure of Donnie leap into the Pit. Lex shoved his way through the crowd, shoulder meeting hard flesh. The sour taste of fear crept into his mouth, his stomach lurching painfully. He was going to be sick by the end of this, he knew it.

The wire around the Pit was thick and roped, cold against Lex’s cheek as he peered down with wide eyes. The Pit had sheer stone walls and the bottom was a sandy floor where the opponents danced, fought and screamed until one raised a bloody fist in victory. The only way to get out was to be pulled out by the members of the crowd, whose hungry cries were deafening as they bounced off the concrete walls.

                Donnie’s scarred body twisted and weaved around his opponent, striking out with vicious kicks. Lex can see his teeth are bared savagely, eyes bright with the thrill of the fight. 

[njwarden]

Horizon III

The scene before him is gruesome to say the least. Nix is lying in a pool of blood; he can see it leaking from the corners of her mouth. The sharp curve of bone sticking out of her chest from where her ribs had snapped glares white against the dark gloom.

He can practically hear Lex’s Australian twang in his head asking if she was going to be okay, even though it was pretty obvious the girl was fucked. He shook his head to clear it, Lex was gone now, no point in dwelling over it, especially now.

Donnie’s bare feet are quiet on the cold concrete of the floor as he approaches her. He knows he should probably feel something, some pain in his heart or a twist in his gut to see someone once so important to him dying before him. But he doesn’t. Donnie doesn’t even feel numb or disorientated, like some claim to when they go into shock. He is entirely lucid and unfeeling, and it scares him. It never used to when Lex was around.

Nix’s gaze shifts to him, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. He still feels nothing. That probably makes him a monster

‘Z? That you?’ her voice is small, much like a child’s. Donnie kneels down beside her, warm stains of crimson soaking the knees of his jeans. ‘Yeah it’s me.’ There’s no tremble or even rawness to his tone, just level.  ‘I’m going to die, huh?’  ‘Yes.’ ‘Could you stop it?’ ‘Yes.’ She bites her lip with sharp teeth, a deep red indent left in their place as she opens her mouth to speak again. ‘You won’t though, will you?’ Donnie shakes his head, again surprised at his lack of compassion, his humanity. The one thing he had strived to keep for years had left him in the shape of a dopey blonde Australian. ‘You need to die.’ He murmured eventually. She did though. Too many years spent in this realm meant your mind began to fray, your heart grows twisted and you begin to lose touch.

‘Can I get one more kiss, before I die?’ She smiled when he grimaced. ‘For old times’ sake?’ Donnie can feel the first emotion so far in this sick little charade. He’d hoped it be would sympathy but instead it is disgust, threatening to spill out of his mouth in the form of sour stomach acid. He rolls his eyes and swallows hard, gently pressing his lips to Nix’s. He can taste the copper from the blood as it sticks to his lips.  She opens her mouth and he pulls away abruptly, sitting straight backed and glaring down at her now ghostly pale form. She grins and her teeth are yellow and bloodstained.

                ‘So that’s what death tastes like.’ She laughs. The sound is horrible and gurgling, the blood in her lungs surging up her windpipe. Donnie wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Yeah, yeah, you had the last laugh. Now hurry and die you fuck.’ 

Annoyance is buzzing in his veins now.He wants to leave. He wants to go back to before when he didn’t have the taste of her on his lips. Where he doesn’t feel sick to his stomach, doesn’t feel like a traitor, a cheater. But he can’t. So he sits there until she chokes her last breath before getting to his feet and walking out the door; feeling like a terrible human being because his foremost thoughts are not of grief but brushing his teeth. As if ridding himself of the taste will get rid of the sin.

[njwarden]

Horizon II

It's been 4 months since Lex started living with Donnie under the bridge. He's gotten used to the familiar gnawing of hunger low in his gut and the layer of dirt and grit that has darkened his skin. His ragged nails have muck underneath them; the skin surrounding them is red and cracked. His hair is matted and dirty, his teeth are furry when he runs his tongue over them and grimaces. 

Many people see it as a horrible way to live, but after months of living this way Lex could see what Donnie had meant when he said, 'It's better than living, it’s surviving.' You were grateful for every time you got to eat; drink clean water; sleep with a roof over your head. You were grateful every time you survived another week.

It all meant more when your life depended on it.  It meant more when you depended on each other. Sure, Lex hardly knew anything about Donnie apart from his name and current mood. But he trusted Donnie with his life. And he knew that Donnie cared about him. If he didn't he would have left him long ago.

It was a strange relationship they had but for them it worked. Lex got butterflies when he thought about it. He'd never had a friend before. Donnie would probably cuff him over the head and tell him to stoop being such a sappy twat if Lex had said it aloud. So he kept it a secret instead, just grinning and wriggling his toes when he thought about it too much. Some things didn't need to be said. You just knew.

[njwarden]

Horizon I

Lex stood further back as he watched his friend break apart in front of him.  Muscles taut and throat raw as he screamed at the sky in languages Lex couldn’t understand.

The crash of waves along the pebbled shore seemed to mirror his rage, murky water swirling angrily around Donnie’s ankles.

Then it seemed that all at once, the electrical charge in the air seemed to dissipate. The water stilled and all the fight seemed to leave Donnie in a heavy breath.

His legs gave out from under him and he landed with a wet thud on the slick pebbles.

Lex moved forward cautiously, heart twisting painfully at seeing Donnie in such a tortured state. He stopped when a sleek figure suddenly broke the calm of the water. Donnie raised his head as Lex knelt beside him.

                A seal met their gaze, staring at them with dark liquid eyes.

‘The fuck?’ Donnie’s voice was quiet but it scraped at his vocal chords; like the edge of a rusted knife. The seal ducked under the water again, leaving smooth ripples in its wake.

                It emerged again, closer this time; seeming to hesitate before finally making its way to the shore. All former grace was lost as it waddled over the pebbles towards the two dumbstruck boys, its coat shining in the dim light.

                The seal stopped just in front of Donnie, studying him still with those sad dark eyes. Donnie’s long fingered hand reached out tentatively, fingers shaking weakly and knuckles bloody from his earlier outburst.

                Before either of them could move, there was a sharp snap of wood off to their right. Their gaze swung to see Zus stumbling out of the dense tree line, breaking into a wide grin as soon as he laid eyes on them both.

‘Lexie! Brother!’ his voice is loud and his accent pronounced as he walked towards then, arms outstretched. The two boys exchanged a look before Lex quickly got to his feet, Donnie grumbling and doing the same. They both knew without looking that the seal was already gone; the only sign of it being the gentle ripples and the disturbed pebbles on the shore.