Debts

By moc.liamg@dniotrecnoc

Published on Oct 3, 2010

Gay

This is a story of fiction, all resemblances (dead or alive) are eerily coincidental. Everything in the story is owned by myself beloved. Contains descriptive sexual scenes between males, if you are not supposed to read it then don't. Feel free to e-mail me.


  • XXIII -

Present day.

Gabriel sighed and looked at the clock. It was nine in the morning, and Gabriel sighed again and got up.

"Let's go," he said to Henry, who let out a deep, desperate sigh and got up as well, knowing that he had no choice right now. "Don't even think of trying to shake me off," Gabriel said quietly. "The minute you try something, I swear to God, I will put you on a leash...!"

Henry blinked at that, and his eyes darted towards gloomy Julian who kept smoking in silence.

"Why is everyone trying to leash me?" he muttered with slight irritation. "I won't run," he looked at Gabriel. "I have no money, no friends, and I don't know where to go... Believe me," he nodded. "I won't run..." He narrowed his eyes. "You seriously going to bring a leash?" he asked in a tight, low voice.

"Not an actual leash," Rayhe answered in absent-minded manner, grabbing his keys off the table. "A magical kind. It will be invisible and it won't let you to get away from me farther than two steps."

"Do it regardless," Julian said shortly, ignoring Henry's helpless, hateful glare. "I don't want to take any chances."

Gabriel looked at Henry for a couple of seconds, and then sighed, deciding not to humiliate the artist unless he absolutely had to.

"Not until we get to the store," he said, figuring that he really didn't feel like arguing with the blond right now. "We'll be back as soon as we get everything he needs."

"Fine," Julian said as shortly as before, without looking at him.

"Let's go," Gabriel looked at Henry, whose expression was darker than before.

The artist gritted his teeth and followed him without saying a single word.

..."I am not going to leash you," Gabriel said after they got into the car. "I don't want to humiliate you; however, the minute you try anything, I won't care about humiliation too much. Are we clear?"

Henry gritted his teeth.

"Yes," he said tightly, and Gabriel nodded and started the car.

"I don't like doing this to you," he said several minutes later after he was driving down the road. "But you are the only one who can get Desmond back, and I will do anything to get him back," he nodded slightly without taking his eyes off the road.

Henry didn't say anything to that; he stared out of the window, his hands clasped in his lap. Gabriel studied him for a few minutes, throwing quick sideways glances in his direction, making sure that he was still keeping an eye on the road. It seemed like the artist was in his late twenties, and he was rather attractive. He wasn't too tall (5'10 at the most), was nicely built even though it was clear that he rarely worked out (if ever), his hair was color of dark chestnut, and his eyes were very light blue, which looked striking against his dark hair. His chin was softly-shaped, making his entire face look helpless somehow; Gabriel thought that his chin made him look weak, which was probably the case; he frowned slightly after remembering about that will-tamer. From what Julian said an hour earlier, it seemed like they were together, and the puppeteer did not sound like someone who would be happy with equality in relationship.

"Not to speak ill of the dead," Gabriel said in a low voice, and Henry's shoulders tensed up a little. "But trying to break someone like Julian was an extremely dumb idea."

Henry's mouth twitched in a dark smile.

"I know that," he said without looking at Gabriel. "I told her that; I never trusted him... Hell," he let out humorless laughter. "I didn't even want to get inside his house...! I told her..." He paused for a second. "Begged her..." he continued slowly. "I begged her to leave him alone; to get that goddamn painting and to leave him alone..." He turned his head and calmly looked at Gabriel. "She didn't listen to me," he nodded with the same dark smile. "She never did," he shrugged and switched his attention to whatever was flying behind the window once again.

Gabriel didn't say anything when Henry fell silent for a few minutes.

"She would always get what she wanted," the artist said suddenly, without taking his eyes away from the window. "It was simple for her... Even with me..." He sighed and looked at Gabriel again. "She liked doing some things that I never cared about..." he frowned a little. "There were a couple of things that I simply hated... However, she liked them," he shrugged again. "And after I told her no'..." He let out another humorless smile. "She wouldn't take it for an answer..." He looked out of the window. "She would always say sorry' afterwards; and I would always know that she didn't really mean it, and that she would definitely do it again, but I would always forgive her... I have always been weak," he said very thoughtfully with a slow nod.

"Did you love her?" Gabriel asked after several minutes of silence and swiftly turned into a parking lot, making Henry grab onto the dashboard.

"Do you always drive like this?" the artist asked with a small frown, never answering Rayhe's question.

"Like what?" Gabriel blinked.

"I swear to God," he thought darkly. "If he says anything about me driving slowly, I am going to..."

"You drive like a maniac!" Henry said angrily and straightened up. "Bloody hell! You were going three times over speed limit...!"

Rayhe blinked again; he never even realized that, he thought with mild amusement.

"No," he said and parked the car. "Not always..."

He pulled the keys out of the ignition and looked at the artist solemnly.

"I am in a hurry right now," he nodded and got out of the car.

...To Gabriel's relief, they found everything Henry needed in the very first store they visited. Turned out that Henry never used anything too fancy – all the colors that he used were rather simple and common, and it took them maybe twenty minutes total to find all of those. Gabriel also grabbed an easel on their way to the register, and Henry's eyes lit up somewhat when he saw that.

"I used a music stand before," he explained when Gabriel gave him a questioning look. "Emma would always say that an easel would take up too much space... So she got me a music stand instead..." He sighed. "It was a pain in the ass," he nodded. "She got the kind that folds easily, so she could shove it into the closet after I was finished with it... It was too small," he shrugged. "I managed though... Used a hell of a lot of clothes-pegs..." He grinned. "So the canvas would stay put," he nodded and looked at the easel again. "That'll be a nice change..."

Gabriel didn't say anything to that; he hated admitting it, but he was actually somewhat glad that Emma was gone for good. Suddenly, Henry smiled.

"Now I definitely won't run away," he said in a low voice, and Gabriel snorted at that.

...When they got back to the house, the couch was empty, and Gabriel frowned at that and put the bag with art supplies on the floor.

"Maybe he figured that killing your mate would automatically bring back his," Henry shrugged and lowered the easel onto the floor.

Gabriel blinked at indifference in his voice, and then immediately frowned deeper. He did *not *think of that. He was about to storm towards the bedroom when he heard Julian's voice.

"The idea has occurred to me, yes," the blond said coolly, appearing in the hallway. "However, I discarded it almost immediately. Killing the dream manipulator while both of them are still trapped in that dream wouldn't be the smartest move to make..." He sighed. "It would probably trap Raven there for good, without any hope of getting out... And he would be alone," he added after a few seconds.

"Where is Raven?" Gabriel asked in the even voice.

"Next to Specter," the blond said, and Rayhe blinked at that. "I figured that if they are together in the labyrinth, it is a good idea to keep them close in reality as well."

Gabriel didn't say anything to that. He grabbed the bag with colors and brushes and looked at Henry, who seemed non-amused.

"Let's get to it," Rayhe said sharper than he intended, and Henry sighed and picked up the easel from the floor.


Half an hour later, the painting was securely pinned to a sheet of thick carton and sat on the easel; several more details changed since the last time Gabriel looked at it. Henry studied the painting for a couple of minutes, his hand absent-mindedly working his palette.

"All right," he finally said slowly without taking his eyes off all those mirrors. "Where do you want it?"

Both men – Gabriel and Julian – stepped closer to the painting, identical frowns on their foreheads. Salamander cursed softly after a minute of him studying the blasted painting.

"I can't see them anymore," he said tightly.

Rayhe leaned closer.

"Bloody hell..." he muttered after several seconds. "They moved out of the view... Shit...!"

"The eyes are gone as well," Henry noted, leaving his palette alone after all the colors mashed together to his satisfaction. "So where do you want it?" he asked again after both men fell silent.

Gabriel bit his lip for a minute.

"Right here," he said finally, pointing to the one of the mirrors on farther right. "This is where they were before..." his finger traveled backwards. "If you put it there, they probably won't find it, because I doubt they will backtrack... Therefore, put it here; hopefully it will be right in front of them."

Henry threw a questioning look at gloomy Julian, and the blond gave him a tight, curt nod without saying anything.

"All right," the artist sighed. "Step away, will you...?" he glanced at both men. "I can't work when someone is breathing down my neck..."

He nodded slightly after they reluctantly obliged and returned his attention to the painting. He remembered that blue glare the ghost told him to put into one of the mirrors in the very beginning, so he knew what to paint. It took him about half an hour to place the final careful stroke; he bit his lip, studying the painting with narrowed eyes, the nodded to himself and took a step backwards.

"Done," he said somewhat shortly. "What do you want me to do now?"

"Wait," Julian said as tightly as before. "That's the only thing we can do now."

Rayhe nodded, agreeing with him. He threw a quick glance at Desmond and Raven lying next to each other on the big bed, their expressions and breathing patterns eerily identical. Gabriel sighed, yanked the window open, and lit a cigarette. The only thing they could do now was to wait.


Behind the glass.

"Wonder why whoever it was, didn't want us to head this direction," Raven said with a small frown, glancing around warily. "I mean, by the way they tried, I would think that the exits would pop up on every single mirror in this particular section..."

"Maybe it had nothing to do with the path," Desmond sighed without slowing down. "Maybe they just wanted to fuck with our heads... For entertainment purposes," he nodded, and suddenly, he threw his arm backwards in the warning gesture, and stopped, listening intently.

Raven stopped immediately without asking any questions. He listened harder, narrowing his eyes, and suddenly, there was that familiar clanking again, except this time, it sounded unbelievably close.

"Shit!" Raven thought wildly, looking around desperately.

There were no alcoves around this time; they stood in the section of the labyrinth that stretched only forward. There was an intersection several feet away from them, but that's where the clanking was coming from, which took that particular intersection out of their non-existing options.

"Shit!" Raven thought again with nauseating desperation and looked at Desmond.

It seemed that Specter's thoughts echoed Raven's perfectly – the ex-assassin had the same trapped, desperate expression on his face as Raven did. The smaller man gritted his teeth and grabbed Desmond's hand, squeezing his fingers in a tight, panicked grasp. They disappeared out of sight, and a second after that, there was the same nightmarish thing appearing from around the corner of the intersection.

Raven bit his lip hard, forcing his breath to lock itself in his throat, watching that dreadful creature walk slowly in their direction.

"I know that it's useless," he thought without blinking, those glowing red eyes mesmerizing him. "It will smell us, I know that... But it was the only thing I could think of, so stand still and don't let go of my hand!"

He knew that Desmond heard him because his fingers wrapped tighter around Raven's in a quick squeeze, as if he was saying `yes.' The nightmarish apparition walked so close to them that Raven could smell its breath – it smelled like dust, he realized with a small frown. He expected to smell something nauseating, but it was just the scent of heavy dust.

The creature stopped frozen in its tracks and slowly turned its head towards both invisible men, who stopped breathing simultaneously. The creature stared at its own reflection for several excruciatingly long seconds, its ears jerking slightly between those black, menacing horns, its eyes blink-free. Then it turned away and continued walking in the same slow manner. Raven stared at it with disbelief and fear, wondering whether it was some sort of a trick, expecting the creature to turn around and lunge at them full speed. It never happened. The apparition slowly walked down the corridor and disappeared in one of the intersections behind them.

Raven dared to draw a very shaky breath and realized that he was shaking and that blood was thudding viciously in his temples. He slowly unwrapped his fingers around Desmond's hand and let go of invisibility. Specter looked as dumbfounded as the other man did right now.

"It doesn't have a sense of smell," Desmond said in a low, breathless voice. "Holy hell, it can see and it can hear, but it can't smell..."

"Thank God for that..." Raven muttered in the same breathless manner. "Let's get the hell out of here!"

Desmond nodded and they started walking forward once again, making sure their footsteps don't create any echoing noise. Half an hour or so later, Raven saw something with the corner of his eye. He turned his head quickly, trying to see what it was – he could've sworn that he saw blue pulsating shimmer.

"What?" Desmond frowned at his expression.

"Nothing," Raven said slowly. "Just seeing things, I suppose..."

Even if there was a blue portal reflecting in the mirrors, it was gone now – there was nothing but flickering reflections. Desmond nodded at that and they resumed their quick pace.


Other side of reality.

Gabriel flicked his yet another finished cigarette out of the window, sighed, and turned around. Desmond and Raven looked exactly the same as they did when Henry finished painting that exit – nothing changed.

"Umm..." the artist said suddenly, and Julian immediately got off the edge of the bed where he was sitting for the last hour or so, running his fingers through Raven's hair.

"What?" he asked sharply, walking closer to the puzzled-looking man.

Gabriel did the same without saying anything.

"The exit is gone," Henry said slowly, staring at the painting.

He was right – the portal that he painted an hour ago, has disappeared as if it never existed.

"Goddammit..." the blond squeezed his eyes shut for several seconds. "Paint another one," he ordered after he opened his eyes. "That one will probably disappear as well, but you will keep on painting them."

"For how long?" the artist blinked rather rapidly.

"For as long as it takes," Gabriel said quietly, and Henry let out a deep, defeated sigh.

"Fine..." he muttered and picked up his palette and brush once again. "What about night-time though?" He looked at both men gloomily. "You are not going to let me sleep?"

Julian looked like he was about to confirm Henry's wary suspicion, but Gabriel interrupted him.

"You will sleep," Rayhe said tightly. "Not for longer than four hours in a row, however," he nodded firmly. "That will be enough for you to be able to function somewhat well; you will catch up on your sleep after they are out," he glanced at the unconscious men on the bed. "Paint," he said shortly after Henry stared at him with helpless look in his eyes.

The artist closed his eyes for a couple of seconds and gritted his teeth. Finally, he let out another sigh, opened his eyes, and turned towards the painting without saying anything.


A little of shameless self-advertising: you can find all my stories, including The Dreamtrap herehttp://stores.lulu.com/store.php?fAcctID=3895328

Next: Chapter 52: The Dreamtrap 24


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