[In Progress]

[smokin_patch]

Title: The sun goes up and the sun goes down
Characters: Badou, Haine and eventually Reno
Location: Halls/Showers
Rating:R just to be safe, lord knows what's going to happen
Summary: Cerebus got pissed and Haine's freaking out. Badou is concerned to say the least.
Day/Time: Day 43/ In the wee small hours of the morning

Comments

[black_mauser]

Haine's eyes, glazed over, staring directly into the water, slowly turned to face the voice speaking to him. He hadn't noticed anyone come in, he wouldn't have noticed if the world ended and hell opened up. His eyes half lidded and glaring lazily.

He shifted uncomfortably against the person pressed to him, he didn't understand it, and he made a small noise in his throat as he recoiled against it, twisting his arm futilely as it was being held away from his body, and away from his neck. His actions were similar to a very sleepy child, slow and confused wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep - wanting nothing more than to die. He twisted in his shirt, the white fabric showing every scar in his torso, every bruise and burn. One more scar wouldn't hurt him, would it?

Suddenly his body went rigid, his eyes snapped open, teeth bared, blood between his teeth, his arm now pulling on Badou's - his body fully prepared to rip the arm off if he needed to - like a coyote in a trap. His voice was harsh and raspy: "Let go of me you whore."

But as quickly as it had come, it left, Haine falling over into Badou, his face buried in Badou's shoulder, every muscle in his body having gone limp. "Make it stop." he said (whimpered - Haine Rammsteiner did not whimper) "Let me, please."

[smokin_patch]

Haine, all scars and bruises bright against his palepalepale skin. Hell Badou even had a handful of stories for some of then, instances of cursing and stupidity and him a graceless heap on asphalt. He'd even stitched a few of those scars together, no ash in the wound asswipe. A story written across flesh, if only you knew how to read it.

It happened faster than he realized(expected), twisting and burning, all-consuming hate. Sharp pain running up through his arm and for a crucial second he froze dead dead dead, acting dead and the stray dogs won't rip you to threads.Whore, whore whore whore whore, gonna sleep with anyone little boy? anybody but him, want him, MINE. Then over before it began and Haine leaning against him, fight gone and broken child remaining. A distant thought heralded relief that it left but the fallout- for a wild instant it was funny. Haine leaning on him when he couldn't give him anything but pain apparently. A tower of broken matchsticks and glue, precarious and rickety. Close to the edge and one more push and they'd both lose everything. Except each other because he wouldn't leave Haine, not again, not ever.

He swallowed his hand coming up and pressing against the back of Haine's head, not moving, not soothing just holding him there. "You know I can't let you." The cig was sodden and limp and he let it drop to the tiles. It didn't matter now. His clothes, hair, himself was slowly getting drenched and fuck, none of it mattered. His moved his other arm around Haine's waist, "But trust in me yeah? We'll make it stop. You and me."

[black_mauser]

In some way he had always been deprived of any kind of maternal safe feeling, his mother abandoned him, and the mother he was told he had at a hospital didn't really love him. She just liked to play games. Games that left Haine tearing at his throat at the earliest hours of the morning in a dirty bathroom in an asylum in Russia. It wasn't that he was paranoid, he didn't think anyone was out to get him personally, he just knew that everyone was full of shit, and it wasn't worth trusting anyone, or anything. He had grown complacent, he let people get close to him, that was why his sister bled to death in his arms. He cared. He had made a horrible mistake.

His shoulder still pressed into Badou's shoulder, enveloped with the smell of soap and stale smoke (he didn't think he would ever forget that smell), he wanted to sleep right there, cold water crashing down on him, blood flowing down his back, he wanted this to stop. Had this all started because of his sister? Seeing her face again? He thought it was likely, but whatever damage he had Badou had endured while he was gone - who knew what that had added to Haine's strained and tired mind.

"Why not?" he asked, his voice almost childish, eyes wide, staring over Badou's shoulder, through his hair which was now dripping wet. "If it goes away, I'll be better. She'll be happy for me." he said absently, desperately. Again he made a feeble grab for his neck, fingers brushing dumbly over the red raw flesh. Growling snarling fuck you tear it out you pussy fucking do it fucking do it kill yourself you useless sack of fucking shit fuck you, he whined quietly. "Make him stop." he whispered into Badou's hair. "Make him shut up, fuck, make him stop." he said, fingers again realizing their purpose on his neck, and trying to pull at the plate.

[smokin_patch]

"Because Haine," He moved his hand down from the back of Haine's head, pulling Haine's hand away roughly and then pressing his own hand tight over that god forsaken piece of metal, that goddamn collar. "You can't die and it's fucking selfish of me I know but you *can't*." His voice was hoarse, he was tired and on edge and close to- fuck no, he didn't cry over shit that was nothing. And this was nothing because Haine was stronger than this dog.

"NO, she wouldn't. She would cry Haine, she doesn't want you dead." There were only a few she's that Badou could think of that Haine could be talking of but no matter who it was he knew they wouldn't want Haine dead. Because he fucking said so. "You make him stop, he's in your head Haine, tell him to fuck off."

And really as much as Badou wanted to do whatever the fuck he could that was it. He couldn't reach into his head and kick the dog's ass nor could he force it out. All he could do was hold onto Haine in the bitter shower and fuck pray or some shit or whatever.

[black_mauser]

"He won't listen. He's always there." he said, looking up at Badou. Hm, that scar on his eye. Haine had seen it before, only a few times though, he'd never bothered to ask how it happened. It was a welcome momentary distraction, as he touched the skin around his eye, as though it was going to have some magic cure to the sufferingyellingscreaming going on in his head. "He doesn't like you." he added, still absently trying to figure what might have done this to Badou's eye (Haine counted himself fortunate to have not lost an eye).

"She wouldn't know." he said, far more lucid than he had been in any of the previous moments, but this time it wasn't the dog taking. "She's dead."

His eyes glazed over again, fingers returning to trying to figure out how in the hell your eye could look that way, he would have rather thought about the pain Badou might have gone through to deal with his own problems. It was easier this way, his problems weren't going away, Badou's probably did, at least he covered them up - with an eyepatch.

"I'm sorry I left Nil, and... you." he said to Badou's eye socket. "I thought maybe I could come back, and you wouldn't have to see this. I - fuck..."

[smokin_patch]

Badou resisted the urge to pull away from Haine's touch. It wasn't- He'd just never bothered before and the feeling of someone other than himself (no one was allowed to touch it, not even the person he was dating) touching it was weird bordering on frightening. But he let him, as long as it wasn't Cerebus trying to claw at him it was fine, it would have to be. "I know, I'm not to fond of him either I must say." Play it cool, flippantly just get Haine calm and okay. That was the top priority. "Gotta make him listen Haine."

"Yeah but- if she were alive she'd be crying." His sister then, never meet her but a quiet evening when Haine spilled, possibly drunk or shit Badou never figured out but he'd opened up and Badou... had never blamed him. Shit happened and quite frankly he didn't exactly care about a little sister. He cared about Haine and that was final. He refrained from saying anything else about his sister though, always a fucking trigger.

"I know, I know man. Missed you too, you know that. Fuck I wouldn't have been upset if I didn't c-ca-" He stumbled over the word and in the end couldn't say it but moved on, hoping Haine hadn't caught it. "Haine it's okay, I've seen it before 'member? And that's fine, really."

[black_mauser]

Why were they so close together? What the fuck personalspacebeinginvaded. Haine scooted back the best he could in his wet pants (they stuck to the chipping tile - snagging on errant corners), eyes still locked on Badou's bad eye. "He won't listen. ...things wouldn't have happened if he listened." he said, not really looking at Badou, mostly looking througharound, fingers still on his face. He wasn't in the presence of mind to think how really damn creepy he was being.

"I don't know what she'd want. She once told me she talked so much to fill up the silences." Haine paused, dare he say - fuck it, he was "Kind of like you." he said, looking back at Badou's bad eye. "How did you get that?" he asked in quick succession, hoping Badou wouldn't respond to what he just said.

That last part, he didn't really have anthing to say, he didn't know how to talk about that. It was hard enough to talk about his sister at length as he was. He didn't know where the change happened, and why He seemed to give a shit about Badou all of a sudden. "Not like this. You didn't see me like this. This is something else. Fuck it, never mind." he was suddenly very aware of how wet he was, the two PKs on his chest shining through his shirt, a patch in his shoulder where the psychopath with Nil busted out a shot gun loaded with buckshot. He remebered lying on the couch, Badou leaning over him pulling out the pellets grumbling at him for his guts getting on the carpet. No ash in the wound, asswipe.

[smokin_patch]

"Fuck Haine, you just can't give up, fight the bastard. Tooth and fucking nail." He kept his voice from getting to worked up, wouldn't help the situation any. But he couldn't not say it, fuck maybe he didn't understand but Cerebus was just in Haine's head and fuck if he was ever going to let just give up. It was- there was to much at stake if he did. First and foremost it'd kill Haine one way or another.

"She loved you didn't she? That's enough for me to know what she would have wanted." Because I love you, because it's you and me bastard to the end, went unsaid. Haine's fingers, still resting on his eye and equally cold and equally hot and somehow he wasn't willing to disconnect just yet. The question was quick but fuck if it didn't resonate. There's a good boy, just stay still and nothin- Hadn't thought of it for years actually but hard to frightened, so scared and fuck it hurts, it hurts so bad that he's probably pissing himself. Where, where is he- he saw it everyday after all. Brother won't let anyone hurt you but Broth-

He closed his working one left, oneoneoneoneoneoneone loneliest number eye and pushed it all back. This wasn't about him, it was Haine and- fuck Haine. Opening his eye again he focused on his torso and PK. The hand not on Haine's neck, wasn't moving that anytime soon, reached out and touched one of them gently. "What's this?" Curiosity or something darker perhaps.

[black_mauser]

Haine hated thinking it, he hated feeling like he was truly useless, that really the Black Dog inside of him had this much control, and that he was really this afraid of Him. Fuck. He understood that Badou was saying all of the things that would make the most sense for anyone to say - as much as it made sense to talk about a dog that was only in your head who was hell bent on controlling your life, but he wondered if Badou really understood how this felt. He didn't think that Badou didn't have his own damage, they all did - but maybe Haine was so deep in his own world that he hadn't bothered to, well, care.

He didn't know what she'd want. She'd been gone so long, she wasn't really a person to Haine anymore, but a symbol to cry over. She never would have wanted him to be sad on her account, she was constantly worrying if she was bothering him, if she was in the way. She might have apologized for bleeding on him had (fuck, why did he even think these things?) she not died.

He pulled his hand away, fingers curling into a fist, feeling suddenly very awkward (the water running on them long forgotten). He looked down where Badou's hand was lightly grazing the pink flesh under the wet fabric. PK. He frowned slightly. He knew what had happened with Cerberus and the King, he had figured it out, and it wasn't all that subtle, but he couldn't bear to tell Badou about it. It was degrading, it was awful. "It's - nothing."

Badou was trying so hard to understand, and Haine was blocking him out. He knew he was, and he wished he could stop, but he just couldn't. Why had it all happened in the first place? What had gotten Him so-Demyx. Haine's eyes went wide, he knew now, he knew what had made him angry, he knew what he didn't want to hear. What a fucking hypocrite he was. What about Reno? Who Haine had all too conveniently failed to mention in any way to Badou.

[smokin_patch]

"It's-" Not the time nor the place and he suddenly become very aware of just how wet they both were. Wet and cold, fuck this wasn't going to do either of them any good. Dragging his hand off of Haine's torso and reaching back, his body moving closer to Haine as he grasped the knob and turned it until the water slackened and then stopped completely.

"C'mon, let's get you warmed up, 'k?" His hand still on the back of Haine's neck and he pulled him forward and towards the towels. A clumsy motion perhaps but the point was to get Haine moving and warm again. He would have pulled him into a hug and for a moment he almost moved forward to do so but it was them and so he didn't.

Had to make do with grabbing a towel and draping it over Haine's head, with one hand rubbing it roughly through his hair. Just move past the awkwardness and the moment and make it better for Haine. "It'll be okay." An urge, an impulse and suddenly he couldn't stop talking. "It'll all be...okay. 'Cause I'll make it okay, got it?" Fuck just, shut up Badou. This wasn't what he needed right now, it was just his mouth running off.

[black_mauser]

Haine's body wasn't responding to anything he really wanted it to do. He couldn't get himself up, only when Badou pulled him up did he manage to stand, he couldn't walk until Badou pulled him. He was light headed, feeling far too dizzy. He stared down at his feet, a pool of water forming around them, as Badou tried drying his hair. Haine made a sort of content noise, it was weird, maybe it was like being petted, maybe he kind of liked that.

"I'm not cold." he mumbled simply with the towel over his head, through Badou's chattering. It was almost comforting, Haine was so used to it, that for the first few weeks he was here, everything seemed like it had the volume turned down on it.

His eyes drooped closed, why wouldn't the floor stay still? It was hard to stand when it kept moving around like that. He swayed in his place before falling over slightly, arms flinging around Badou's shoulders, face pressed into Badou's chest. Badou wasn't moving, maybe the floor could stop moving like Badou. Haine pressed his eyes closed, fuck why wouldn't it stop? Fucking floor.

[smokin_patch]

He was still talking when Haine swayed and then fell into him, the feel of his arm around his neck and his face in his chest being a surprise and yet, not exactly unwelcome. He paused and then fell silent, the heat of Haine's body like a flame against his own. Hot and cold, his clothes heavy with water and dripping into a puddle at their feet. Fuck all he could think was that they'd be lucky if only one of them ended up sick and he didn't want to move, this was Haine and safety and family. It was... okay.

His arm wrapped around Haine's waist, "Alright," He didn't know what was alright but something had to be somewhere in the world. "Lets get you out of those wet clothes alright?" Voice calm and low, soothing even and he started pulling Haine's shirt up, still propping him up with his own body.

[black_mauser]

Haine squeezed his eyes closed, hoping that if he opened them the damn floor will have stopped, and that he would be all better. Sort of a 'there's no place like home' sort of mentality about the whole thing (which was odd, Haine never wanted to see his own home ever again - so wanting that sort of home and safe feeling was very, well, not right), his hands fisted on Badou's shoulders, gripping futilely at the wet shirt underneath.

He was just so useless, a pile of horrible emotions and confusion about a lot of things. And it wasn't as though he never had these moments of weakness, he'd just never had it happened to him in the presence of another person. Haine shook his head when Badou started pulling on his shirt, forehead rubbing against his chest. He didn't know why he didn't want to take off the sticky wet clothing, but he just didn't. He didn't think Badou would pay much attention to whatever he was mumbling about anyway, since that was generally the case when Haine was speaking in full sentences. “Make him shut up…” he muttered, eyes pressed closed so firmly, his temples were hurting.