The usual disclaimers apply: don't read if you are prohibited by location, are under legal age, or if you are likely to be offended by explicit descriptions of gay sex. The story is pure fiction and is not based on any actual events. The Story contains fictional representations of real people, the key word here is fictional and the stories are in no way intended to reflect or imply the sexual orientation or any other aspect of the character of any real person.
Author's note: This story is a sequel to my earlier story "The Corps" and features the same characters, including the same celebrities. I have tried to write "Task Force" as a stand-alone story, but you might find it easier going if you have read "The Corps" first. It is assumed that you have at least read the prologue and ealier chapters of "Task Force"
Gymnopedies May 2003 gym@softhome.net
The Corps - Task Force Chapter 4: Trouble at Home ----------------------------------------------------
Tristan turned over irritably, dragging the blankets with him. Yet another night when he couldn't sleep! This seemed to be happening more and more often of late. He'd lay there in the darkness turning things over in his mind; thinking about the past, wondering about the future. He was frightened, he was confused and he was lonely. He thought back to that time just three short months ago, before his parents had both been killed in the car accident. Things had been so different then. He might not have been the happiest fourteen year old in the world, but at least he'd felt safe with no worries about the future. He'd had a family, a home, a life...
A few seconds had completely changed everything. He still had no idea what had caused the accident, this was in spite of the all too frequent flashbacks which plagued his waking hours and invaded his dreams. Over and over he heard his father shout, his mother scream, and then... then there was darkness. He could recall hearing someone say that life wasn't fair. They had been right!
Things could be worse, he told himself. The Corps had taken him in, offering him a family and friendship, but it just wasn't the same, they couldn't replace what he'd lost. Maybe if he'd powers, like the other Corps members things would be different, but as it was, he just felt lonely and left out. Take yesterday for instance. Mark, Dayle, Paul and Zac had gone off on another life or death mission to save the world, or something like that anyway. They'd come back battered, bruised and exhausted, bringing some new kid with them. Zac had instantly been dragged away and put to bed by Nathan, Paul had gone to his own bed and Mark and Dayle had been busy sorting out the new boy. No one had time for Tristan; he just wasn't needed, he wasn't part of the team.
Then there was that other problem that he'd been unable to sort out. He felt like he didn't even know who he was any more. When he'd been younger he'd never given other boys a second look, these days he hardly seemed to think about much else. Yesterday he had come so close to admitting his feelings to Nathan. It was almost uncanny the way the youngster seemed to have been able to see right to the heart of the problem; even without using his telepathic abilities. But the moment had passed, he'd been unable to bring himself to talk about this even to sweet, innocent, understanding Nathan. The teenager gave a soft, bitter laugh.
Lifting himself up on one elbow, Tristan thumped his pillow in an effort to knock some softness into it. He was about to settle back down again when he heard something, or at least he thought he did. It sounded like a faint, muffled laugh in the corridor outside of his door. He listened for moment, but could hear nothing and he dismissed it as just his imagination. However, as shuffled back down beneath the blankets he heard the sound again. It definitely was a laugh! A second later it was followed by a quick "Shh!" Tristan's first thought was that it was probably Zac playing around. Though that didn't really make sense, Zac and Nathan's room wasn't even on this corridor and besides, from the condition Zac had appeared to be in before he was dragged off to bed, the boy wasn't likely to be messing about playing jokes in the middle of the night.
Deciding that since he was awake anyway, he might as well investigate, Tristan climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of shorts; he didn't like the idea of being caught wandering the corridors naked. Cautiously he turned the door handle and opened the door, just a crack, and listened. Nothing. He opened the door a little further and put his head around. The corridor was lit only by the dim glow of the overhead emergency lighting, it was empty and completely silent. Once more convinced that his imagination was playing tricks on him, he was about to close the door and return to his bed when he heard the voice. It was a boy's voice. Not loud enough to for Tristan to make out what was being said, but loud enough to for him recognise that the tone as threatening. It was coming from Ralph's room.
Moving slowly, his bare feet making no sound on the tiled floor, Tristan approached Ralph's door, listening intently to the sounds that were filtering through the hard wood. He still couldn't make out what was being said, but the voice wasn't Ralph's, he was certain of that much. Dayle's words from the day before came back to him. The telepath had said that Ralph had had a hard time recently and asked Tristan to keep an eye on him.
Nervously, Tristan pressed his ear to the door. The voices seemed to have stopped. Then he heard a strange grunting sound as if someone were exerting themselves in some way and the voice came back, harsh and angry. "Bet you're sorry you opened that big fat mouth of yours now, you faggot bastard." This time the words were clear. All too clear.
Bursting into the room, Tristan immediately froze in his tracks. Ralph, totally naked, was thrashing around madly on the bed, the bedclothes strewn around the room. A boy of around Tristan's age was holding a pillow firmly over Ralph's face, muffling his screams, while two other similar aged boys laid into the struggling sixteen year old with their fists, mercilessly pounding his exposed body wherever they could make contact.
Tristan had never been a fighter, always preferring to avoid physical confrontations, but he wasn't about to stand there at let this continue. With a scream of rage he threw himself forwards, grabbing the nearest boy by his shirt collar and yanking him back so violently that the boy ended up on the floor. Tristan immediately moved onto the next assailant, grabbing his arm, but this time wasn't quite so lucky. The boy swung around, his fist catching Tristan on the shoulder, knocking him off balance. The boy on the floor wrapped his arms around Tristan's legs and the fourteen year old went down, hitting the floor hard. He tried to fight his way clear but now it was two against one as both boys piled down on top of him. A fist caught him hard in the stomach, knocking all the air out of his lungs and he lashed out blindly, his own fisting connecting with something hard, probably a face. Blows seemed to be raining down on his body from every direction and he felt a sudden sharp pain in his side as the third boy got in a well aimed kick to his ribs. From the corner of his eye he saw the third boy knocked to the ground, Ralph's naked form sprawled across him, the older boy's fists flailing wildly. Tristan cried out in pain and fury as someone grabbed his hair and slammed the back of his head hard against the floor, bringing tears to his eyes. Everything seemed to be spinning and he knew he couldn't fight much longer. Suddenly, one of the boys above him froze then collapsed forwards, sprawling like a dead weight over Tristan's body. A second later the other boy also froze, his eyes going blank as he fell senseless to the floor.
The next thing Tristan knew, he was staring up into Mark's concerned face. He tried to get to his feet but the older teen pushed him back down.
"Lie still a minute and get your breath back. You don't appear to have any serious damage but you're going to have some terrific bruises." Mark got up and crossed to where Ralph was sitting astride the unmoving body of the third boy, taking his arm and helping the sixteen year old get to his feet before half carrying him to the bed.
"You look like you were giving a good account of yourself." Tristan felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and looked around to see Dayle kneeling next to him.
"What happened to them?" the young teen asked, nodding his head towards the two nearest bodies and immediately regretting making such a sudden movement as a sharp pain shot through his shoulders.
"Oh, I just sort of put them to sleep for a while," Dayle smiled. "I don't suppose you want to tell me what was going on?"
"I don't know," Tristan replied, honestly. "I heard some noises and found these three giving Ralph a good beating."
"So you decided to join in and even the odds a bit."
"Yeah, something like that." In spite of the pain, Tristan found he was mirroring the telepath's smile with one of his own.
Mark squatted down beside them, his face pale with suppressed anger. "He's in shock," he said, nodding towards the bed where Ralph lay curled up and trembling.
"It looked like he'd already taken one hell of a beating before I came in," said Tristan. "But he still managed to take on one of them himself. I'd have been done for if he hadn't."
"Does he know what any of this is about?" asked Dayle.
Mark nodded. "These are the three he was sharing a room with; the ones who gave him those previous beatings. This time they said it was payment for him telling us about what had been going on."
"But how did they manage to get to him," Dayle asked. "They shouldn't even have been able to get down to this level."
"I don't know," said Mark. "But as soon as they wake up I'm damn well going to find out. I told him he would be safe," he said, bitterly, his gaze going back to Ralph.
"It's not your fault, Mark, you can't take the blame for everything that happens."
"So who's fault is it, Dayle?" asked Mark. "It's certainly not his." He nodded towards the bed. "I won't even be able to heal him or Tris until my powers recharge from yesterday."
"Hey, it's no big deal," said Tristan. "We'll live. We'll probably be a bit sore, but you'll be able to heal us in the morning, right?"
"Right," said Mark, managing a smile in spite of his anger. "Tris, I want to ask you a favour. Dayle and I have to get back to Florian, he's still asleep at the moment but we need to be there when he wakes up. I don't want Ralph left on his own. Would you stay with him?"
"Yeah, sure. Though can we go into my room? It's a bit of a mess in here."
"Of course you can. I'm going to get someone from base security to come down and take care of our three friends. They need to be kept locked up until we find out the answers to a few questions."
Tristan climbed somewhat painfully to his feet. It hurt like hell now, and he didn't want to think what he would feel like by morning when his muscles had had chance to tighten up. He really hoped that Mark would have his healing abilities back by then.
Between them, Dayle and Tristan helped Ralph walk the short distance to Tristan's room and laid him down on the fourteen year old's bed while Mark made arrangements for the intruders to be put somewhere secure.
"Right, Tris, as soon as I'm strong enough I'll come back and heal you both. Make sure you just take things easy until then." Mark put his hand on Tristan's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He looked the boy in the eyes. "I've been watching you Tris and I know it's hard for you and that you sometimes feel like an outsider. But there's a lot more to being a member of the Corps than just having powers. When you tackled Circe you more than earned your place as a Task Force member and even though you've lost your powers you've shown again tonight that you have every bit as much right to be here as any of us. Whenever you start to feel left out, come and talk to me, ok? Promise?"
"Yeah, I promise," said Tristan, a strange warm feeling moving through his insides.
Mark and Dayle said goodnight and Tristan closed the door. He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed where Ralph lay, wrapped in a blanket, silent tears running down his face. He put his hand on the boy's arm.
"I'm sorry," Ralph murmured, "you must think I'm a real baby, I just can't stop shaking."
Tristan didn't answer, he just smiled and gently brushed the tears off the older boys cheeks. Then, taking off his shorts, he climbed into the bed. His own nakedness pressed up tightly against Ralph's, Tristan felt more contented than he had in a long time, and in spite of the aches and pains around his body, he felt himself gradually sliding into a relaxed sleep.
Mark sat at his desk fighting back a yawn. He'd had a whole night without sleep and it was beginning to tell, especially on top of the adventures and exertions of the previous day. Just a little longer, he told himself, and then he'd be able to go to his bed for a few hours, leaving Dayle in charge. Before that could happen though there were some things that needed sorting out.
At least the situation with Florian seemed to be under control. The teenager had awoken several hours ago, confused and more than a little frightened. His first action had been to lean over the side of the bed and be violently sick on the floor, a combination of the effects of the remnants of the drugs which were still swimming around in his system and the first stages of what was likely to be a long and very unpleasant withdrawal. Mark had immediately summoned Nathan, who with Dayle's help and instructions had put a temporary block on Florian's abilities. The boy was incredibly powerful but completely untrained in the use and control of those powers. That, combined with the possible recurrence of psychotic episodes as a result of the drugs he'd been given was a recipe for total disaster; Mark had no desire for a recurrence of the events at the school. Florian was now resting fairly peacefully under Nathan's watchful eye.
Mark's next job had been to visit Zac and heal the injury the boy had received from the policeman. Zac's side and lower back had turned a very nasty deep purple colour and Mark knew the youngster must be in a great deal of pain. This was followed by a visit to Tristan's room where he had received a huge surprise on finding the 'straight' Ralph and the 'undecided' Tristan naked and asleep in each others arms. He'd quickly healed them both of the injuries they had received during the earlier disturbance and left them to it, trying not to show too much amusement at their embarrassed blushes.
All that and it wasn't yet 8 am.
He looked up as the office door opened and Dayle entered. He'd been scanning the three boys who had assaulted Ralph. The telepath looked grim, but not especially tired and Mark was glad that he'd made the teenager get a few hours sleep earlier.
"Why do I get the feeling that what you have to tell me won't make me happy?" Mark asked, sitting back in his chair.
Dayle didn't speak, he just shook his head and threw a plastic card down onto the desk.
Leaning forwards to read the card, Mark gave a groan. Across the front of the card were the words "Base Messenger". The messenger was a trusted position and the magnetic strip on the back of the card would provide automatic access to most areas of the base, including the Task Force level. "Please tell me that they somehow stole this," said Mark, the other possibility that was running through his mind being too horrible to contemplate.
"Sorry," said Dayle, once more shaking his head, his lips pressed into a tight line.
"He didn't? Even HE can't be that stupid."
"He did."
Mark put his head in his hands and gave a deep sigh as he remembered a conversation he'd had just under twenty-four hours ago in this very office with Jake, the base leader. Mark had told the man to appoint a new messenger, since Ralph, the previous holder of that position, was now to be Mark's personal assistant. The thought had never crossed Mark's mind that Jake would do something so totally mindless as to give the job to one of the boys who had been victimising Ralph. The messenger would have access to accommodation lists and so be able to find out which room Ralph was in; they'd be able to go straight to him. "I don't know who's the more stupid," Mark muttered, "him for doing it or me for underestimating the level of his stupidity." He looked up. "Did you find out anything from the boys about why they were doing it?"
"Yeah, but this is the bit that you are REALLY not going to like. There's more to it than simple victimisation. These boys have been programmed in some way to do what they are doing. They don't even having anything specifically against Ralph, he just happened to be unlucky enough to be the one they latched onto; maybe because he was sharing a room with them and so they had easy access to him when no one else was around. If it hadn't been him it would have been someone else."
A multitude of questions raced through Mark's mind. "Why?" he asked, this being perhaps the most obvious. "What was the purpose behind it?"
"I haven't really been able to find out," said Dayle. "On the surface it appears that it was merely to cause disruption. It seems they've been speaking to other boys, generally stirring things up. From what I can tell, things were set to get more extreme as time went on. If they hadn't been discovered we might have ended up with a full scale riot on our hands and..." he paused.
"Go on."
Dayle drew in a deep breath and looked Mark directly in the eye. "The attacks on Ralph would have become worse. Eventually they would almost certainly have beaten him to death."
There were several seconds of complete silence. Mark felt suddenly sick at the prospect of what could have happened. "This stays between us, for now anyway," he said. "Ralph must not get to know."
"I agree," said Dayle, nodding.
"Any clues as to who is behind it?"
"I can't tell. It looks to me like the programming is hypnotic rather than telepathic, but they're well and truly walled in. I can't get in deep enough to find anything useful. Also, I can't break the programming. These boys are going to have to stay locked up until we can find a way to get through to them."
"There's something we need to check out," said Mark, his face grave. "Was the choice of one of these boys as base messenger really just a stupid mistake? I want you to scan Jake."
Dayle smiled. "Already done. He's clean. Stupid, but clean."
"I take it he doesn't know about any of this?"
"Nothing at all."
"Well he soon will. I want him out. Today. I'm going to offer the job to Conal."
"Conal? He's barely eighteen. Are you sure he can handle it?" Dayle's surprise at Mark's decision was clear on his face. "Besides, I didn't think you had the power to appoint a new base leader."
"I don't, officially. But I'll make it an emergency appointment and have the council ratify it at their next meeting. There are things going on that I don't like, Dayle, and I want someone in the job who I can trust."
Conal O'Byrne was an eighteen year old Irish boy who had transferred over from the London base a couple of months earlier. Only a moderate strength telepath and telekinetic, he wasn't Task Force material, but he did have a special talent for getting on with people and had soon endeared himself to Corps and Task Force members alike. Also, most of the ordinary boys seemed to like him, which was an important factor in Mark's decision. Dayle was right in that Conal was inexperienced, but Mark was sure that with a bit of guidance and support the teenager would make an excellent base leader.
Dayle nodded. "Well, for what it's worth I think you can definitely trust Conal. I'd better get to work checking out all the other boys and make sure those three that we have locked away are the only ones who have been tampered with. Then I'll get back to our prisoners and see if I can drag anything else out of them. You'd better go get yourself some sleep before you fall over."
"Don't worry," said Mark. "I've just a couple more things to sort out and then I'm going to lock myself away for a few hours."
"Right, I'll see you later," said Dayle as he left the room.
Mark spent the next few minutes going through some papers, but was disturbed in his reading by the sudden appearance of two figures as Paul teleported into the office bringing with him another boy.
"About time," said Mark, giving them smile of welcome.
"Yeah, well, he was still in bed," said Paul. "I had to wait for him to get some clothes on."
The other boy stepped forwards. "Hello, Mark, don't I get a hug?"
"Of course you do," said Mark, his smile broadening as he threw is arms around the newcomer. "It's great to see you again, Taylor."
"Are you mad at me?" Tristan looked up across the table to where Ralph was staring silently into space. The two boys were in the dining hall, supposedly having breakfast, though neither had so far touched the food on the plates in front of them. "Ralph? Are you mad at me?" Tristan asked again, a little louder, after getting no sign of a response the first time.
"What?" Ralph's eyes came slowly back into focus. "Oh, no. Course not. Why should I be mad at you?"
"I thought you might be mad because I got into bed with you last night."
Ralph didn't give any indication that he had heard; he was once again staring in space.
It had been like this between them since Mark had appeared in Tristan's room and caught the two of them in bed together. Mark hadn't made any comment about the situation, he'd just quickly healed them and gone on his way, but Tristan was sure he'd seen an amused twinkle in the nineteen year old's eyes. Since then they had hardly spoken to each other. Well, this wasn't strictly true, Tristan had tried several times to speak to Ralph, but the older boy either ignored him or replied with short, noncommittal answers. Last night shouldn't really be such a big deal. Apart from Tristan putting his arms around the shaking boy to comfort him and the obvious bodily contact that had ensued, nothing had actually happened between the two of them. But this didn't stop Tristan from feeling almost sick with guilt. He'd never done anything like that with a boy before. In fact, he'd never even done anything like that with a girl before. The thing that was worrying him most was the knowledge that laying with Ralph in his arms, their naked bodies pressed together, had felt good. Was this final confirmation of the fact that he really was gay? He needed to talk to someone, badly. If Ralph would speak to him at least that would be a start, he really wanted to know how the older teenager felt about what they had done.
Ralph dropped his gaze and began to swirl the remains of his orange juice around in the bottom of his glass. "Tris, are you gay?" he asked, suddenly, not looking up.
"Erm, I don't know," Tristan answered. He hesitated before adding, "I might be." This was as close as he had ever come to admitting it, even to himself. "What about you?"
"No." Ralph gave an emphatic shake of his head. Finally he raised his eyes. "But I don't feel bad about us sleeping together. And neither should you. I really needed someone to hold me last night, and you were there for me. Just like you were there when those boys were beating the crap out of me. I guess I owe you one."
"You don't owe me anything."
Ralph's attention returned to his drink. "Have you ever had a good friend, Tris?"
"Yeah, of course."
"I don't mean just an ordinary friend. I mean a special friend. The sort you grow up with and you can share all your problems with and who will be there for you whatever happens."
Tristan thought back to the friends he'd had at school before his time with the Corps. He'd known some of them a long time, you could even say that he'd grown up with some of them, but could he really say he'd been that close to any of them? Would any of them be giving him more than a passing thought now that he wasn't there any more? Somehow he doubted it. There was Nathan and Zac, of course, he knew either of the boys would do anything for him. But they had each other; that was a relationship that he could never be part of. "No, I guess not," he said, eventually, sadly.
Without lifting his eyes Ralph gave a sad smile. "Me neither. I guess friends of that sort don't come around very often." He raised the glass to his lips and drained it before bringing it down on the table perhaps a little harder than was necessary. Reaching out, he took Tristan's hand in his own. "Tris, I know we don't really know each other that well, but I was wondering if maybe we could spend a bit of time together, get to know each other better." Then seeing Tristan's slightly worried expression he added, "I'm just talking about being friends, nothing else. But maybe there's a chance that one day we can become best friends, the kind I was talking about."
The words struck a chord with Tristan, he could really use a close friend right at this moment. He smiled. "Yeah, I'd like that." He didn't know whether it was the boy's shy personality or his obvious sensitivity, but he could see something special in Ralph and he really hoped things worked out and that they could indeed become good friends. If nothing else it was a great relief to know that the boy didn't resent what had happened between them. And better than that, maybe at last he'd found someone who he would be able to open up to about his own feelings and confusion.
It was good to be back. As Taylor walked along the corridor of the Corps base he realised just how much he'd missed being around the people who he had come to think of as being his closest friends. This was one of the few places in the world that he could really be himself and not have to worry about what other people would think. Though there was also a touch of sadness. Everything about the base seemed to remind him of William and those few short weeks that they'd had together. He still saw William on a fairly regular basis, thanks to Zac's teleport ability, but it was only for brief visits. When they'd been at the base, training to use their powers, they had been together all the time, spending both the days and the nights together. Eventually, of course, the prince had had to return to his kingdom and that all too brief chapter in their lives was brought to an end. If only... Taylor gave a soft sigh.
Recently, Taylor had been having second thoughts about his decision not to be a member of the new Corps Task Force. He'd turned down the offer mainly because he had felt that it would be too painful to be part of something that reminded him so much of William. But since his return home life somehow wasn't quite the same as it had been before. For one thing, Zac wasn't around much, which meant that everything was so much quieter; too quiet. Also he missed his new friends. But the main reason was his feeling that he was missing out on a chance to do some real good with his life. As a Corps member he would have the opportunity to use his amazing healing abilities to their full; to help people in this way, sometimes even saving lives, was the most wonderful feeling in the world and while he was sitting at home he couldn't help wondering how many people might have been helped if he'd been out there doing something. Mark's call for help had been just what he needed to give him that final push to become involved again. He still wasn't sure whether he wanted to commit himself to full membership of the Task Force, but he decided that provided Mark didn't mind, it might be nice to hang around for a while and see how things went.
Taylor's current task, the reason Mark had asked him to come back, was to try and do something to help Florian. Mark himself had healed the boy of the physical damage caused to his major organs by the massive drug overdose he had been given, but was unable to do anything about the residue of the drugs still floating around in the teen's system or the very unpleasant withdrawal symptoms he was going to be suffering. At this stage Taylor wasn't sure there was anything he could do, first he had to see the boy and properly assess the problem.
As Taylor entered Florian's room, the sixteen year old was sitting on the edge of the bed wearing a dirty white t-shirt and blue shorts and trying to pull a pair of rather scruffy looking trainers onto his bare feet. Even sitting down he was swaying somewhat and his face had that unpleasant grey-green colour of someone who was about to be violently sick. Standing just in front of him and looking far from happy were Nathan and Zac. Nathan was making it quite clear what he thought about the teenager's idea of getting out of bed.
"Tay!" As soon as Nathan noticed the new arrival he was across the room and in Taylor's arms, Zac just a few steps behind. Taylor and Nathan had always been especially close and it was almost two months since Taylor had last seen the youngster.
"Hey, take it easy," Taylor laughed, giving Nathan a hug.
"Oh, Tay, I've missed you."
"Yeah, I've missed you too. Hopefully I'm going to be around for a little while though so we can spend some time together."
"Does that mean you're gonna become a proper Task Force member?" asked Zac, hopefully.
"We'll see," Taylor replied. "Let's take things one step at a time and see how things go."
Florian had been watching this reunion with a slightly bemused expression. He'd finished putting on his footwear and climbed groggily to his feet. He swayed, groaned, put his hand to his mouth and quickly sat down again.
Immediately, Nathan let go of Taylor and rushed back to Florian's side. Grabbing a bowl from a nearby table he held it while the older teen leaned forwards over it, retching. Eventually Florian stopped trying to turn his stomach inside out and Nathan laid the bowl carefully aside before using a cloth to wipe the boy's mouth, at the same time stroking his back.
"Thinking of going somewhere?" asked Taylor, after a moment, putting his hand on Florian's forehead.
"Doesn't look like it. I can't even stand up," Florian replied miserably. "He tilted his head just far enough that he could look up at Taylor. "Just my luck, I'm in the same room as Taylor Hanson and all I feel like doing is throwing up over him."
"You know who I am then? You listen to our music?"
"Not if I can help it." Florian forced a grin. "But I've always thought that you were pretty cute. I hope you've come to rescue me from these two; I've spent the last hour been bullied by your little brother and his bossy friend."
Taylor laughed. He felt he was going to like this boy. "Nathan and Zac are just worried about you, and from the looks of you I don't blame them. You look really rough."
"That's appropriate 'cos I feel like shit."
"Well, lucky for you that I came along, because I can probably help you there." Taylor gave a genuine smile and tugged at Florian's shirt. "You're going to have to take this off to start with. Your shorts as well."
"You've got to be kidding." The sick teenager managed to look incredulous and queasy both at the same time. "You want me to strip naked with the three of you watching?"
"Well, it's really up to you," said Taylor, patiently. "If you do, then there's a good chance I can make you feel better. If you don't then the next the next few days are going to be very unpleasant for you. If you think you feel like shit now, just wait a few more hours until the withdrawal really kicks in."
"It's not like we haven't seen everything already," Nathan pointed out. "You should have been here a few minutes ago when he was trying to get his shorts on," he informed Taylor. "He had to stop half way through to throw up. I told him to stay in bed but he wouldn't listen."
Florian shot the youngster and icy glare.
"Yeah, c'mon Flo, stop pretending to be shy all of a sudden," said Zac. "You've got a really hot bod so where's the harm in letting us get another look at it."
"Thanks, Zac," Taylor sighed, "but I'm not sure you're helping." He sat down on the bed next the stubborn teen. They were close to the same age, Florian probably just a few months older than himself, and even without his empathic abilities Taylor would have been able to make a good guess at what the boy was feeling. "Look, Florian, let's all stop kidding around. You're feeling ill, probably worse than you've ever felt in your life before, and though you're hiding it well, we both know you're also scared half to death because you haven't a clue what's happening. I don't blame you, if I were in your situation I'd be completely terrified. Once you're feeling better we can take the time to explain everything to you, but for now you're just going to have to trust us and let us help you." Getting no apparent response, Taylor took hold of the hem of the boy's shirt and as he lifted it up Florian raised his arms to allow it to be pulled over his head. Then, while Taylor helped the teen to raise himself up off the bed, Nathan pulled off the boy's shorts and Zac removed his trainers. "Let's get you onto the bed," said Taylor, gently. "We'll start off with you face down. You don't need to do anything but lie there and relax."
Once Florian was laid flat on his stomach, Taylor put his knee on the bed and leaned over, placing his hands on the boy's head. He'd never attempted anything like this before and hoped for Florian's sake that it would work. What he was going to try and do was to burn the residue of the drugs out of the boy's system and in doing so, hopefully, remove all the effects of the drug withdrawal. He closed his eyes and concentrated, using a variation of a technique he had learned from the Sentinel, Karl, when the old man had directed Taylor's powers to heal Dayle. Focussing his powers, Taylor began his task, limiting the flow of healing energy to just a slow trickle rather than letting it pour out of him. Slowly he began to slide his hands across Florian's head, keeping his fingers in contact with the teen's scalp.
Florian gave a soft sigh.
"Are you ok?" Taylor asked. "If this works you should start to feel better very soon."
"I don't feel quite as sick now," said Florian, his speech was slow and his voice muffled by having one side of his face pressed against the bedclothes. "I feel drowsy though."
Zac gave a soft chuckle. "Tay has that effect on everybody."
"You can go to sleep if you want," said Taylor, ignoring his brother's comment. Now that he had the process underway he found he didn't have to concentrate quite as hard. He opened his eyes so that he could see what he was doing as he moved his hand's down Florian's neck on and onto his shoulders. The boy was certainly in good shape. Taylor felt firm muscles under his hands as he slowly massaged the teenager's neck and back. It was a long, slow process, but at least it did appear to be working. The young healer could sense the improvement already and Florian's skin didn't seem to be quite a clammy as it had a few moments ago.
Reaching Florian's lower back, Taylor turned his attention to the boys arms and then his legs, sliding his hands over every inch of skin. As he reached the top of Florian's second leg, he moved his hands onto the teen's well shaped arse cheeks, then slid his fingers into the cleft between the pale mounds, through the stands of hair until his fingertips brushed against the boy's tight anal ring.
"Hey, wotcha doin'?" The question was more like an exclamation as Florian immediately tensed up and tried to look back to see what was happening.
"Looks like he's suddenly not sleepy anymore," Zac laughed.
"Don't worry, I'm done back here," Taylor smiled. He gave the teen a gentle slap on one cheek. "Turn yourself over and I'll do the front."
"Do I have to?"
"I thought we'd already covered that one," said Taylor. "You don't have to, but if I stop now we've both been wasting our time.
With a sigh, Florian rolled over onto his back. Taylor noted with some amusement that the sixteen year old was blushing slightly and was also more than half way hard.
"You look like you're not exactly hating this," said Taylor, glancing at the twitching organ. "I guess that proves as much as anything that you're starting to feel better.
Zac, never shy when it came to anything like this, had stepped forwards for a better look. "I sure was right about you having a hot bod, Flo," he said. "I'm dying to see you get really hard."
"Zac! Just try and keep it buttoned for now," said Taylor, amused and trying not to show it. Though he had to agree with his brother that this boy was pretty hot. He'd lost that grey tinge he'd had earlier and got some of his natural colour back and for the first time it was possible to see what he really looked like. Chin length, untidy dirty-blond hair framed a good looking face with striking grey-green eyes and what was at the moment an embarrassed smile. Further down he had a nicely shaped, hairless chest and a flat stomach, with more than a hint of a six pack. His uncut cock lay on his stomach and Taylor guessed that it would be little short of seven inches when hard.
Knowing that the front wouldn't take so long since he'd already completed Florian's arms and legs,, Taylor started work on the teen's chest. Healing always gave him a certain satisfaction, but on this occasion he was also getting a lot of pleasure from the job; Florian's smooth, firm chest felt so good under his fingers. He felt a little guilty when he realised that the teenager wasn't the only one getting hard. "How are you feeling now?" he asked.
"Pretty good," said Florian, with a smile. "I never realised a massage could make you feel so good. It's like a nice tingly feeling everywhere you touch me."
"Well, there's a little bit more to it than a massage," Taylor explained. "But it's nice to hear that you're feeling better. The fact that you're enjoying it is a bonus. Zac is right you know, you have got a great body."
"Yeah, well, if you say so. I'm just lucky I guess. I don't work out or anything like that."
"You got a boyfriend?"
Florian's smile broadened and his face reddened. "Why? Are you looking for one?"
"I'm already taken," Taylor laughed. "I was just interested, that's all."
"Shame." Florian looked disappointed. "No, I don't have a boyfriend. I've messed around a bit with a guy from school, but we never did any serious stuff."
"What do you mean by messing around?" Zac asked, curious.
"Well, you know, just jacking each other off and stuff," said Florian, looking a little uncomfortable.
"You ever had a blow job?" Zac asked, with a grin.
Before Florian had chance to reply, Taylor's hands, which hand been massaging the boy's stomach, moved down that extra few inches and wrapped themselves around his dick.
"Ooh, shit!" Florian groaned and almost immediately became fully hard under Taylor's touch. He opened his legs and groaned again as Taylor's other hand took hold of his balls, squeezing them gently.
"Well, I'm finished with the important part," said Taylor, casually moving his hand up and down the boy's hard dick and watching the foreskin sliding backwards and forwards over the swollen precum covered head.. "But it looks like this is something else that you need pretty badly."
Florian didn't reply, but it was obvious from the look on his face that Taylor was right.
"You never answered my question," said Zac, moving even closer and resting his hand on the older boy's naked thigh. "Did this guy you messed around with ever give you a blow job?"
"What? Erm, no." Florian's attention wavered between responding to Zac and watching Taylor's hand moving firmly up and down his stiff shaft.
"Do you want one?"
Florian appeared shocked by Zac's suggestion, if such a thing were possible given the circumstances. He looked up at Taylor, "He's kidding, right?"
"I don't think so," Taylor laughed shaking his head. "Want me to let him loose on you?"
"Well?" asked Zac, impatiently, his fingertips now trailing seductively through Florian's pubic hair.
"Erm, if you want, I guess. Yeah, go ahead." Florian appeared both a little nervous and excited at the prospect. He watched wide eyed as Taylor stepped back out of the way and Zac climbed up onto the bed, leaned forwards and licked around the head of the teens swollen cock.
"Argh!" Florian gave an exclamation of pure pleasure and lifted his hips, pushing is erection towards Zac's waiting mouth. Zac opened his mouth further and engulfed the entire head, closing his lips around the shaft. Gradually he worked his way down the hard shaft, swallowing it all, until his nose was buried in the boy's pubic hair.
The prolonged physical contact he'd had with the good looking, naked teenager and now watching Zac work his oral magic on the boy had left Taylor with needs of his own. His own erection was poking at the front of his pants and he was aware of a stickiness around the tip. He was wondering how best to solve this problem when he felt a nudge on his arm. It was Nathan.
"Tay, you want me to do you?" the twelve year old asked, shyly, nodding down towards Taylor's bulge.
"You sure?" Taylor asked.
Nathan nodded. Smiling happily he dropped to his knees in front of his friend and unfastening Taylor's pants he tugged them down, quickly doing the same with his shorts.
As soon as Taylor's erection sprang free, Nathan took hold of it and brought it down to his lips. Taylor placed his hands on either side of the boy's sandy coloured head and gave himself over to the feelings of intense pleasure that were coming from the area of his groin. He began to thrust with his hips, literally fucking Nathan's willing mouth as he watched Zac expertly sucking Florian on the bed.
Florian was moaning loudly, his breath coming in short gasps and he was running his hands over his own naked chest and stomach. Zac's complete attention was focused on Florian's aching cock, his tight lips running up and down the full length of the shaft as he took the head all the way into his throat. With a loud groan, Florian tensed and began to thrust erratically. Zac pulled back a little, but kept the head of Florian's dick in his mouth as it began to throb, pumping out its white, sticky load.
The sight of Florian's cum escaping from Zac's lips and running down the boy's cock was enough to push Taylor over the edge. He breathed in sharply and fought to keep his balance as his own hot boy juice began to spurt from his dick, the first bolt firing straight down Nathan's throat and two more splashing across the youngsters lips and nose.
Still smiling in spite of the mess on his face, Nathan ran his hand tightly along the length of Taylor's spent cock, milking out the last of the cum and licking it from the slit with his tongue. Zac was doing something similar with Florian, licking all around the boy's shaft, cleaning up all the juice that hadn't been able to swallow.
"That was fucking unbelievable," Florian gasped, his voice hardly above a whisper.
"You think so?" smiled Taylor. "Stick around for a while and you'll really see something." He pulled Nathan to his feet and hugged the boy tightly to his chest. He certainly planned on sticking around for a while himself. "You'd better rest for a while," he advised Florian. "Maybe even have a short sleep. You need to make up the energy that was used in clearing the drugs out of your system. Later someone, probably Mark or Dayle, will come and have a long talk with you and explain what's going on."
"Yeah, I guess I am feeling a bit tired," Florian admitted. He allowed Zac to help him get under the bedclothes. "Thanks for the blow job Zac, it was Monty!"
"Monty?" Zac looked puzzled. "Does that mean you liked it?"
"I more than liked it, it was awesome."
Taylor pulled up and fastened his pants then gave Nathan a quick kiss on the lips. "Mine was awesome as well," he told the twelve year old. "I need to go talk to Mark, but I'll see you later." He left Zac and Nathan to keep an eye on Florian and headed towards Mark's office to report on a task successfully completed. Burning out the drugs from Florian's body had been easier than he'd expected, though he was going to recommend to Mark that the treatment be repeated in a day or so, just to be on the safe side. He was sure Florian wouldn't object since the teen had definitely enjoyed the session they had just had. Though Taylor did feel a moments pity for the boy; Florian's next session, possibly later that day, was not likely to be so pleasant. One of the telepaths, most likely Dayle, was going to have to go into his head and help recover the suppressed memories of what had happened to him during his short disappearance from the school the previous day. Mark seemed to think that something pretty awful had happened to him during that time and it was necessary to find out exactly what that was so that they could start to deal with the effects. Taylor decided that he was going to sit in on that session himself. He liked Florian and intended to do everything he could to help the boy though this
End of Chapter 4
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